THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 211 



intertwines itself among the scrub palmetto and other vege- 

 tation in the most intricate and provoking manner possible. 

 It is crooked, gnarly, full of knots, thorns, and altogether 

 forms one of the most disagreeable jungles I ever undertook 

 to explore. 



Proceeding farther into the thicket it became denser, and 

 of a larger growth, reaching a height of six to ten feet. I got 

 down on my hands and knees and tried to crawl under it, but 

 it was thicker on the ground than a foot or two above, so I 

 got up again. My flesh crawled, however, as I thought of 

 the chances I incurred of stepping on a rattlesnake, or wak- 

 ing up a panther in this paradise of theirs. I could not see 

 three feet from me in aany direction except straight up, and I 

 verily walked "'by ibdth and not by sight." 



Old Rover, axy oaly companion, who generally kept a few 

 yards ahead of me, BOW came voluntarily to heel, perfectly 

 willing I should break the way for him. By hard work I 

 think I made fully a quarter of a mile an hour for the next 

 two hours, and this with the sun beaming down at a " ninety 

 in the shade" rate. 



Finally, about eleven o'clock A.M., I found myself stand- 

 ing upon the bank of the creek, or perhaps it might more 

 properly be termed a river here, for it is sixty yards wide, 

 with an average depth of three to four feet. I stopped and 

 debated, solus, what I should do next how I could best get 

 out of this jungle. There was scrub oak to the right of me, 

 scrub oak to the left of me, scrub oak in the rear of me, 

 and the river in front of me. This oak grows so close to 

 the water's edge as to leave no room there for a passage way 

 the branches overhanging the water several feet. 



As my original plan was to go up the creek a mile or two 

 after I reached it, I decided to carry it out, and dropping 

 back some ten or twenty yards from the bank of the stream, 



