Rambles of a Naturalist in Southern Florida. 161 



The word Cambrian, therefore, so far as it has been attempted to 

 apply it to a geological formation, is a synonym for part of the Lower 

 Silurian. It has not, however, been used in the geological nomencla- 

 ture of America, for which we may thank the paleontologists connected 

 with the State and Government surveys, nor is there any likelihood 

 that it will ever come into use, either as a substitute for Silurian or 

 in a word compounded with it. 



Rambles of a Naturalist in Southern Florida. By W. "W. Calkins. 



The " Land of Flowers," where Ponce de Leon sought for the 

 '* fountain of perpetual youth," first dawned upon my vision from the 

 deck of a steamer off Cedar Keys, wliere we arrived January 23d, 

 after a stormy voyage from New Orleans of five hundred miles. We 

 were on this beautiful moniing suddenly made aware of our entrance 

 into more genial climes than those of the frozen north, or damp and 

 foggy Louisiana. While we lay at anclior, seven miles from the shore, 

 I made my first essay at collecting shells, in five fathoms of water. 

 For the purpose, I used a small, light dredge, that at home I had 

 fixed up with a wooden handle, but now I substituted a small rope. 

 My success was beyond my expectations, and embraced the following 

 species : Marghiella apicina, Chem. gracilis, Cerith. nigrum, Derdalium 

 entalis, a few Crustacea and star-fish. Having exchanged mails, we 

 left Cedar Keys and steered southwai-d. The sea was as quiet as a 

 mill-pond the rest of the way to Key West. We saw numerous 

 Phijsalia with their .purple blue barques floating on Uie waves, and 

 captured specimens of the gulf-weed (Sargasso baccifera), on this we 

 found crustaceans and shrimps that are peculiar to the gulf-weed. 

 The auguries were propitious, the weather fine. The heavens and 

 earth seemed to blend as one, resting on the calm, blue sea. We 

 forgot our own dear, frozen North, and reveled in dreams of eternal 

 summer, and things too impossible to be real. But this is the nectar — 

 the sentiment that makes life sweet, cheers- the heart, and fills us with 

 new and noble ambitions. Well, we steamed on past Tampa, that 

 rich ground for collectors, and the Espiritu Santo of De Soto, who 

 arrived there in 1539. Reaching Key West on the twenty-fifth 

 parallel, we began to realize that old things are passed away. I sur- 

 veyed with some interest the people — a heterogenous mass of Ameri- 

 cans, Africans, Spaniards, et cetera — dressed in linen or cotton, and 



