THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 221 



In fact, many Floridians say they had rather try to keep 

 house without sweet potatoes than without "lightard." 

 Jack tells a story of an old cracker who sold his farm and 

 prepared to move out of a certain township. One of his 

 neighbors came to remonstrate with him^ and asked him 

 what he wanted to leave the neighborhood for; if this were 

 not as good a country to live in as any other. "Yes," said 

 the old man, "this is a good enough country, only there's no 

 lightard here." 



We loaded our "lightard" into the cart and drove on. 

 After going half a mile we emerged upon a beautiful broad 

 prairie some two miles wide. Upon the further side of this 

 we saw a strip of heavy timber through which runs the river. 

 We pushed on across the prairie and at three o'clock entered 

 a grove of tall, stately live-oaks on the bank of the long- 

 looked-for and anxiously-sought Myakka river, and pitched 

 our tent. And what a lovely site for a camp ! It is on a 

 high bank where the river makes a horse-shoe bend, and we 

 are in the toe of the shoe, so to speak. The massive live- 

 oaks stand close together, the limbs of each one intertwining 

 affectionately with those of its neighbor, and the long, gray, 

 Spanish moss hanging to within a few feet of the ground. This 

 moss, together with the leaves of the trees, formed a covering 

 above us so thick as to entirely exclude the rays of the sun by 

 day and to protect us from the dew at night. The river is 

 but a few feet from us in front or on either side, and in the 

 rear are open glades that furnish excellent grazing for our 

 horse. 



Jack staked him out and we took our guns and went up 

 the river for a few hours' shooting before dark. This is in- 

 deed the happy hunting ground the sportsman's paradise. 



As we walked quietly around a bend in the river, just out 

 of sight of our camp, and came upon an open glade or 



