Mussels and clams[19] they have all the year long; which, being the meanest of God’s blessings here, and such as these people fat their hogs with at a low water, if ours upon any extremity did enjoy in the South Colony,[20] they would never complain of famine or want, although they wanted bread. (Not but that, by God’s blessing, the South Colony using their industry may in few years attain to that plenty, pleasure and strength as that they shall not need much to envy or fear the proudest nations in Europe.) Oysters there are none, but at Massachusetts, some 20 miles to the north of this place, there are such huge ones, by savages’ report, as I am loth to report. For ordinary ones, of which there be many, they make to be as broad as a bushel, but one among the rest they compared to the great cabin of the _Discovery_, and being sober and well-advised persons, grew very angry when they were laughed at or not believed! I would have had Captain Jones to have tried out the truth of this report. And what was the reason? If, said I, the oysters be so great and have any pearls in them, then must the pearls be answerable in greatness to the oysters, and proving round and orient also, would far exceed all other jewels in the world! Yea, what strange and precious things might be found in so rare a creature! But Captain Jones his employing his pinnace in discovery, his graving of the ship, his haste away about other occasions and business, would not permit him to do that which often since he wished he could have done. From the beginning of September till the end of March, their bay in a manner is covered with all sorts of water fowl, in such sort of swarms and multitudes as is rather admirable than credible. The reasons of their continual plenty for those seven months in the year may be their continual tranquility of the place, being guarded on all sides from the fury of the storms; as also the abundance of food they find at low water, the bottom of the bay then appearing as a green meadow; and lastly, the number of freshets running into the bay, where after their powdered salads, their brackish shellfish and other cates,[21] they may refresh and quench their thirst. And therefore, this bay is such a pond for fowl as in any man’s knowledge of our nation that hath seen it, all America hath not the like. (Thus far I proceeded and dated my letter at Angra,[22] Jan. 13, 1622[/1623].)