ELEMENTS OF BARTRAM'S LANDSCAPE 95 



vividness with which Bartram saw his snakes and the concen- 

 trated clearness with which he described them is illustrated in 

 such a passage as the following: 



The coach-whip snake is a beautiful creature; when full grown they 

 are six and seven feet in length, and the largest part of their body not 

 so thick as a cane or common stick; its head not larger than the end 

 of a man's finger; their neck is very slender, and from the abdomen 

 tapers away in the manner of a small switch or coach-whip; the top 

 of the head and neck, for three or four inches, is as black and shining 

 as a raven; the throat and belly as white as snow; and the upper side 

 of their body of a chocolate colour, excepting the tail part, almost from 

 the abdomen to the extremity, which is black . . . (p. 219). 



But it is necessary to look into Bartram's waters again. The 

 principal inhabitants of these waters — the fishes — have not yet 

 been noted. Bartram paid a great deal of attention to fish; in the 

 first place, because to a traveler, fish is a means of subsistence; 

 in the second place, because the fishes are a part of the " animal 

 kingdom " he had chosen as his province of study. Early in his 

 travels, as he sails by the islands on the coast of Georgia, he 

 observes that 



The coasts, sounds, and inlets . . . abound with a variety of excellent 

 fish, particularly Rock, Bass, Drum, Mullet, Sheepshead, Whiting, 

 Grooper, Flounder, Sea-Trout (this last seems to be a species of Cod) , 

 Skate, Skipjack, Stingray, the Shark, and great Black Stingray, are 

 insatiable cannibals. The bays and lagoons are stored with oysters and 

 varieties of other shell-fish, crabs, shrimp, &c. The clams, in particular 

 are large, their meat white, tender and delicate (pp. 67-68). 



In the St. Johns River the fish is so numerous that he is anxious 

 to avoid raising suspicion of his veracity. " Should I say," he 

 asks, 



that the river (in this place) from shore to shore, and perhaps near 

 half a mile above and below me, appeared to be one solid bank of fish, 

 of various kinds, pushing through this narrow pass of St. Juans into 

 the lake, on their return down the river . . . (p. 123) ? 



He derives aesthetic delight from watching the " innumerable 

 bands of fish " in the crystal basin near Lake George. Some are 



cloathed in the most brilliant colours; the voracious crocodile stretched 

 along at full length, as the great trunk of a tree in size, the devouring 



