MACCAULEY. | ARCHITECTURE. 499 
SEMINOLE DWELLINGS —I-FUL-LO-HA-TCO'S HOUSE. 
Now that we have seen the Seminole family formed, let us look at its 
home. The Florida Indians are not nomads. They have fixed habita- 
tions: settlements in well defined districts, permanent camps, houses 
or wigwams which remain from year to year the abiding places of their 
families, and gardens and fields which for indefinite periods are used by 
the same owners. There are times during the year when parties gather 
into temporary camps for a few weeks. Now perhaps they gather upon 
some rich Koonti ground, that they may dig an extra quantity of this 
root and make flour from it; now, that they may have a sirup making 
festival, they go to some fertile sugar cane hammock ; or again, that they 
may have a hunt, they camp where a certain kind of game has been 
discovered in abundance. And they all, as a rule, go to a central point 
once a year and share there their great feast, the Green Corn Dance. 
Besides, as I was told, these Indians are frequent visitors to one another, 
acting in turn as guests and hosts for a few days at atime. But it is 
the fact, nevertheless, that for much the greater part of the year the 
Seminole families are at their homes, occupying houses, surrounded by 
many comforts and living a life of routine industry. 
As one Seminole home is, with but few unimportant differences, like 
nearly all the others, we can get a good idea of what it is by deserib- 
ing here the first one I visited, that of I-ful-lo-ha-teo, or ‘‘ Charlie Osce- 
ola,” in the ‘Bad Country,” on the edge of the Big Cypress Swamp. 
When my guide pointed out to me the locality where “ Charlie” lives, 
I could see nothing but a wide saw-grass marsh surrounding a small 
island. The island seemed covered with a dense growth of palmetto and 
other trees and tangled shrubbery, with a few banana plants rising 
among them. No sign of human habitation was visible. This invis- 
ibility of a Seminole’s house from the vicinity may be taken as a 
marked characteristic of his home. If possible, he hides his house, 
placing it on an island and in a jungle. As we neared the hammock 
we found that approach to it was difficult. On horseback there was no 
trouble in getting through the water and the annoying saw-grass, but I 
found it difficult to reach the island with my vehicle, which was loaded 
with our provisions and myself. On the shore of ‘‘ Charlie’s” island is a 
piece of rich land of probably two acres in extent. At length I landed, 
and soon, to my surprise, entered a small, neat clearing, around which 
were built three houses, excellent of their kind, and one insignificant 
structure. Beyond these, well fenced with palmetto logs, lay a small 
garden. No one of the entire household—father, mother, and child — 
was at home. Where they had gone we did not learn until later. We 
found them next day at a sirup making at “Old Tommy’s” field, six miles 
away. Having, in the absence of the owner, a free range of the camp, 
I busied myself in noting what had been left in it and what were its 
peculiarities. Among the first things I picked up was a “cow’s horn.” 
This, my guide informed me, was used in calling from camp to camp. 
