34 WILD WINGS 



called Planter on Key Largo, where there was a store at 

 which we hoped to replenish our provisions, the only one in 

 the whole region. I will not dwell upon the efforts of these 

 two days, one of them wet and stormy, spent in scraping 

 over flats and shoals, getting aground, making detours to 

 follow channels, through some of which we had to warp the 

 vessel to windward by poles, skiff, and anchor. Finally, late 

 the second afternoon we came up under Key Largo, about 

 opposite where Planter was supposed to be on the outer 

 shore of the island. Our attempt to tramp across resulted in 

 failure. A creek headed us off, and one of the men got lost 

 in a swamp. It proved that we had landed several miles too 

 far east. Next morning a fisherman came alongside, and 

 told us how to go. 



The ground of this key seemed to consist mostly of a hard 

 broken coral rock, so rough as to be capable of soon wear- 

 ing one's shoes to tatters. What soil there was appeared very 

 scant, yet the settlers had cut away tracts of jungle, and 

 right among the rocks had caused to grow luxuriant groves 

 or fields of tropical fruits, such as oranges, limes, lemons, 

 grape-fruit, figs, cocoanuts, sapodillas, bananas, pineapples, 

 and I know not what else. In some of these rocky fields 

 there were acres of watermelons, unfortunately nearly every 

 melon being bitten into and ruined — by raccoons, it was said. 

 Potatoes, grown in the crevices of the rock, are dug with 

 crowbars, rather than shovels. 



Having now plenty of provisions in stock, fruits galore, 

 and a fine mess of crawfish, we cut loose from the base of 

 supplies and explored a number of the inner keys. On most 

 of them there were no water-birds, save a few straggling 

 herons. On one large key, with lakes in its interior, we spent 

 a profitable day with breeding Least Terns, Laughing Gulls, 

 and shore-birds. 



