July, 1889.] 



AND OOLOCrlST. 



103 



shot at some stray rabbit, lie is overtaken by 

 the sliades of night in a hmely place, and with 

 the only alternative to roam the wooils all 

 night or build a fiie and roast a rabbit for 

 supper, and then after a smoke for a night- 

 cap can roll himself in his ulster, and lie down 

 by the side of the fire and comfortably cov- 

 ered can watch the firelight and think over 

 the captures of the day, and finally drop to 

 sleep as peacefully as a child in its mother's 

 arms, to dream of loved ones far away, secure 

 in the thought that there is nothing there to 

 harm him, as he lies in the midst of Dame 

 Nature's works. 



These are experiences which teach us pa- 

 tience and peace in the midst of toil and 

 trouble, and are understood by none but the 

 CKANK. F. A. Bates. 



A Day in the Alpataochee. 



The Ali^ataochee is a wide shallow swamp 

 extending from the Kissimmee Prairie on the 

 west to within about ten miles of Indian Kiver 

 on the east. Its northern border resolves it- 

 self into the "Big Saw-grass," in which the St. 

 John's Kiver takes its rise and its southern edge 

 melts away into the Everglades of the Lake 

 Okeechobee region. Late on a sweltering 

 September night I made my lonely bivouac 

 close to its eastern edge and glad enough was 

 I when I unbuckled my knapsack and started 

 up a cheerful blaze on almost the last spot of 

 dry ground I was to see for nearly three days. 

 Coffee and pipe over, I made myself a luxur- 

 ious palmetto bed, and slept the sleep of the 

 just. 



With the first gray streak in the east the 

 whistling wings of ducks awoke me, and be- 

 fore I could get up I shot a nice little Wood 

 Duck for breakfast. That task disposed of, I 

 donned my knapsack again, and put my best 

 foot foremost. 



It's astonishing how heavy a knapsack gets 

 to be, the second morning out. When I left In- 

 dian River it hardly weighed fifty i)ounds but 

 now as I blundered about searching for the 

 trail, I began to have pretty clear ideas of 

 what a ton might be. It didn't take me long 

 though to get in good trim, and the trail was 

 plain enough till I struck out into the Alpata^ 

 ochee. Here, for a moment, my heai't failed 

 me. A broad expanse of water stretched away 

 west and north as far as I could see, while to 

 the south lay a dense cypress swamp. Here 

 and there patches of weeds grew out of the 



water and occasionally the tops of grass and 

 rushes showed where the ground was a little 

 higher. Upon these spots I soon learned how 

 to pick out the trail that I was following, for 

 the teamsters, having fiour as part of their 

 load, had selected the highest land they could 

 find to drive upon — I am wrong — I should 

 say the shallowest water to drive in. 



As the sun rose and the little silver streams 

 of mist began to curl away and vanish from 

 sight, I approached a sort of island, as I at 

 first thought, but it was an island of trees and 

 bushes only, and no chance to sit down. So, 

 with my back against a sapling and note-book 

 in hand, I began my bird record for the trip. 

 First I had to put down the Wood Duck though 

 I had already put that down another way. If 

 I had that note-book now I could tell a much 

 longer story. A Kingfisher called noisily for 

 recognition, I remember, and close over my 

 head sported a little Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. 

 Both the Vultures too, I remember, were in 

 sight, and six species of Heron, both the Blues, 

 both the Egrets, the Green and the Louisiana. 



The crackers and cowboys of this part of 

 Florida call the Herons, Scoggins. During the 

 day I also saw both the Bitterns, which made 

 a fine showing for the Ardeidaj. But the 

 main feature of bird life through all the wild, 

 fascinating and fatiguing tramp was the song 

 of the Meadow Larks. They were never absent 

 and never still. In the gloomy twilight of 

 the sad cypress islands, among the reedy 

 ponds and even the sloughs of open water 

 where only here and there a bending limb 

 showed above the surface the larks were rip- 

 pling over with music. It seemed to spill out 

 of them wherever they went. 



The sun was hot when I came to the Shilo- 

 hatchee, with its wide fringe of cypress on 

 both sides. Here were Blackbirds and Boat- 

 tails, as well as both species of Crow, and here, 

 too, I first saw the Caracara Eagle. Two or 

 three Wood Ibises surprised me by their tame- 

 ness. Their local name is Flinthead, and they 

 are seldom molested. Coming out on the 

 other side, I caught a glimpse of a Purple Gal- 

 linule, and away oft' — so far that it took the 

 spy-glass to fully identify them — were two 

 Whooping Cranes. These, also, were the first 

 of the species I had ever seen. 



And now, as the sun got still hotter, I was 

 confronted with a very knotty problem, which 

 was, how to get my coat off when there was 

 no place to lay my gun and knapsack down. 

 I did get it off, though, but the way I did it I 

 shall not tell. It was so very ingenious that I 



