AyiL 



■5H 



TT 



L1>X!j ,11U, 



lidilli 



I low- 

 Ill , but 



at surprised ma by only weighing two pounds. 

 irLly after l>. hada rise near him, and at once ptit jjis 



fifes over the fish, and with a md 'lash li rad was 



in the same condition as mine. He also saved his fish, which 



1 mis. 



Our spare rods being at Monson Fond, there was nothing 



■ li™. After returning wo Btrung new 



Ed. should conirneni e using the fly, 



and finally prevailed upon him to do so, although we thought 



I 1 titti. J everything being 



ready, we shoved from the shore, ami commenced our sport, 



our ideas,, heing jnst right. When perl] 



eighth of a miie from shore the wind ceased instantly, and we 



to start for home at once, when llie air seemed fall of 



ion the surface of the water. Almost 



instantly Lba pond seemed full of flsh, jumping out, in all 



b. a i '"'in I uever expect to see again. 



We struck them right and left, and lauded them as fast as 



1 1 de, and the mouth of eveiy fish was full of these black 



Hie«., about the size of out common hpuse-lly. Our guide caught 



his lirsl fish, and lie will never catch one' that; will give him 



more play, and tax his skill more than that one did. After the 



. , . 11 carefully laid the rod dowu with the re 



murk that, "He would paddle us just where we wanted, as 

 he had had fun enough for one day, and more than iu all the 

 fish lie had ever caught with bait." He has made two hue 

 aombeam Ay rods,'''' and can now hold his own with any one. 

 Within a radius of seventeen miles there are. thirty two 

 ponds all full Of flsh ; and right here I wish to say thai the 

 trout h do 1 darefi Lian any 1 have ever seen. 



The names of the ponds are : Hebron, .Monson. Spectacle, 

 Bunkei (») Bog Stream, Bell (3), McLan, 

 North Moors, Bear. South Seni ir, South Junior, Meadow, 

 Meadow Stream. No. 18, Grindstone, Buttermilk. Benson, 

 gliip 'i 1 ■ Long Hedgehog, Big Indian, Little 



Indian. Herring and Greenleaf. Theeountry is mountainous, 

 affording some of the finest views possible, and anyone loving 

 nature mnol help being pleased by a visit, to that section, 

 especially ii eorhhined with the, ani, ,;.■;, 1, . ot fishing. 



I am informed from perfectly reliable authority that Ship 

 Pond contains land-locked salmon in abundance, but cannot 

 speak from my own knowledge : am reserving that pleasure 

 for my in 



The greatest drawback :l1 Monson is the lack of suitable 

 finals, which difficulty can be readily overcome, and I would 

 recommend any one going there to obtain a birch or a light 

 boat, which, can he had at or near Bangor, or at Moosehead 

 Lake. 



Anyone calling upon B. K. Haynes, postmaster, will derive 

 what information they may require, and make llie acquaint- 

 ance of one of the lust fellows to be found, ready to meet a 

 brother sportsman, and assist him on almost every occasion. 



NliOLAM. 



Bustox, March IT, 1877. 



. .«. — 



!''<■<■ I'.,,, ■ ■ ' n ,■ 1: a -1:1,1 Otui. 



ACROSS COUNTRY IN FLORIDA. 



Maxiiakik, April '-'T, 1S77. 



I SAW Farmer T. ahead in the wood, with a greeting 

 extending around both flanks of his bronzed face, audi 

 reined up for a few minutes' chat. 



inu know bow the roads are between this and St. 

 Augustine?" 



to drive over?" 



T.'s countenance assumes an expression of good-natured, 

 friendly interest, ami he proceeds: 



il Well, the roads are pretty bad, and you'll have to go 



slow, Tiitre has dot lie 

 haVe much trouble at, th 

 though, and you want to 

 When he sal,' 



what bad roadsare in Floi 

 a good h.M'Se and buggy, 1 

 and smash up the'other. 



ain lately, and you won't 

 lords, ik-tler look out 'for bears, 



:i xe along with you." 



,\ere bad, with a full consciousness of 



1 la, I felt a t rifle discouraged, fori had 



ml did not want to wear out the one 



When be spoke of fords I mentally 



forded" and fell chilly ; but when bears were mentioned, it 



1 : question within between inlimidationand unbelief, with 



the chances in favor of the former: for I knew T. was an old 



stager on the route. 



I experienced a partial relief, however, when he advised 

 taking an axe along, and inwardly commended his caution. 

 ■\VhatV-lse could it be for but to kill the bears ? But why not a 



rrmiiusti 1! " It; woukl be much more agreeable, as well 



as more sportsmanlike, to I I I at a convenient distance— 



. , 1 1 : , ad -shoot the bear, than to go up an 



hi'm on the head or chop at him vigorously. Bill then T was 

 no sportsman. 1 doubtfully asked at. length what the axe 

 was for. 



,n want if to chop fallen trees out of the road." 



"Do you always take an axe f" I continued. 

 " Always,"" 



" Ever bad occasion to use it f 



" Well, n no] /haven't yet, but then?/"" may." 



" I see." 



"You want to start about five iu the morning: that's what 



I do," 



-• What time do you get, there?" 



"About, six at night.' 1 



" How far is it?" 



"Thirty-eight miles." 



"Why, confound it, Hint's thirteen leans— only three miles 

 an hour'." 



, friend with a few more questions, and the next 

 morning-, armed with a map of the road, which he kindly 

 fm-nish'ed , ' i' .-I' a seven o'clock start. For ten miles or 

 more the road runs westerly toward the ocean ,- the old King's 

 Koad ! ill" and St. Augustine is then inter- 



sected, aufthereoi thelonj I srapli polesand deeply 



woni n tm 11 eity. The roads 



in Florida, generally, are born, not, made. Human hands 

 have toiled not to smooth their ruggedness or direct their 

 course. In all probability the cattle first surveyed it aud 

 lined it, out, and somebody's cart wheels followed the narrow 

 path, which thenceforth became a settled road. When any 

 part becomes too miry or rough for the native's cart 

 or some fallen tree blocks the way, a .switch-out, is made 

 over more advantageous ground, aud the switch becomes a 

 permanent section of the road. We leave the prosperous 

 farms and groves of Mandarin, plunge into the ever present 

 pine woods, with the trees stalking about, us as if engaged in 

 a huge cotillion. When we slow down to a walk the measure 



ouutry far and near, tl 1 , 



trees are sol ; , , light md then we 



swing down the Inevitable M branch " at 



.-■e again to resume the mazy dance with our high 

 friends, and stop lo view the land once more when we think 

 they have jigged it long enough. 



We pass one farm after another, the distances between 

 gradually increasing, and the rail fences making crazy lines 

 beside us. Often, exiled cattle are staring between the rails 

 with wistful eyes, and undoubtedly empty stomachs, at the 

 us going on within, and'ere the harvest be gathered 

 some of them will softly lift the rails With their horns, throw 

 them uuder foot and skip over lo sample the crop I he farmer so 

 carefully tends. Out then will come the dog, perhaps several 

 of them': angry barks will fill the air; the fight grows hot, 

 but the cattle will hud intervals in it forrefreshing bites at the 

 vegetation, keeping eyes and leans dogward, ami giving fre- 

 quent tierce hinges at the ermines, who' speedily retreat under 

 the charge to return again as soon as safety permits. The 

 farmer's Form appears upon the scene, and the curtain falls on 

 cattle hastily running for the woods, farmer laying up his 

 fence with that complacency born of long endurance- of such 

 intrusions, and discomforted dog. the only angry one iu the 

 party, at, his master's heels, looking sullenly through I he rails 

 towards his retreating foes. Bine orange groves grace many 

 of these farms, and the farmer's humble domicile, with its mot' 

 below the glistening tops of his orange trees, stands in the grate- 

 ful shade. A profusion of rose bushes, flowering pomegranates, 

 oleanders anil crepe myrtles are scattered about, mulberry 

 trees are specked red with their ripening berries, and an air of 

 thrifty, contented indolence pervades the whole scene. The 

 dog fiend, invariably present, arouses at, OUT approach and lifts 

 his miserable howl at US without waiting to see that we shall 

 not enter bis domain. Long alter we are by he keeps up bis 

 noisy racket, which each succeeding moment rentiers fainter 

 as we speed along. 



The sun is half way up the sky when we enter a labyrinth 

 of shade, which marks the approach to our first ford. It is 

 also our worst, one. Densely shaded, inky water, and a 

 varying bottom, over which great roots are stretched, making 

 the jolting most unpleasant. " This is Rooty Ford; probably 

 named after its most obnoxious feature. The waters have 

 laved countless swamp plants into crowded existence by its 

 borders, whose full flowering season has hardly yet arrived. 

 Other eyes than ours must look upon their perfect glory a few 

 weeks hence, when the air becomes less bleak and the waters 

 grow warm. ~\Vo splash into the ford and bump along over 

 the KDOtS, The present, bump is nothing, however ; it is the 

 continual expectation of the one to come that awakens our 

 caution and unstrings our nerves— the dread in wailing and 

 not knowing how formidable will lie the jolt nor what, moment 

 it will arrive. Every moment we brace up our minds for it, 

 hut all in vain; we come upon it. in an interval of involuntary 

 relaxation, and are bouticed over iu a demoralized state of 

 mental unfitness. 



The deepest, part, of the ford is suddenly reached by a short, 

 sharp descent, steep enough for the roof of a house in a very 

 rainy country. The horse stops ; but, not caring to gel out, 

 or to remain long afloat in a craft in which the water comes 

 leaking through the bottom, we spur him along, his head 

 uplifted and the top of our wagon-box within an mch or two 

 of being overflowed. 



From out the black waters the arcs of our wheels rise like four 

 red rainbows, with the improvement on nature's of being neatly 

 lined with black paint. Our wagon seems a li' inting chariot, sur- 

 rounded with its rainbow superfluities, and with a little more 

 imagination we might, fancy our submerged steed a swan. It 

 is only a slight impediment that he is red aud has ears. But 

 shall fancy be put to flight by such trifles? Away with « man 

 (or woman) who can't, fancy a red swan with cars. Let the 

 mind just, grapple first with the redness of the swan, and 

 having successfully digested this peculiarity, the ears will 

 come about with le'-sdilivulh , Trv if. 



The passing glance WC g n about us reveals the embowered 

 stream on either side, stretching away with winding course 

 within its cool retreat, beneath whose vaulted roof of living- 

 green the smooth, ebonylike floor moves softly along iu 

 never-ending continuation. We know not whence it comes, 

 but whither it goes we know, for its name is Julingtou, and 

 it joins the St. Johns near Mandarin. Encouraged to leave 

 the scene, our red swan drops the role imposed upon it, de- 

 velops the quadruped of its nature out, of the- watery depths, 

 and pricks up his ears with lively satisfaction at land travel 

 again. Thus we pass this modern river of Styx (or roots), 

 and rising a slope, cuter a nourishing colored settlement: all 

 South Carolina' darkies, who after the war found things so 

 lively at home that they performed this pilgrimage in colony 

 shape, and gained a peaceful abode by the homestead process. 

 Here, unmolested, they can swing their hoes with all the reck- 

 lessness, if not, the grace, a violinist gives his bow, lure the 

 ,, ,1 irn to fasseled height, grind its gritty grains to 

 hominy, aud then, with nature's grinders, grind again until 

 the whole be bolted. 



We are. eight miles from home, but yet not in a strange 

 land, for do not these dusky denizens come to US for hire, get 

 up in "de cool" of the morning and do the distance in time to 

 begin the working day for those who hire them: shoes carried 

 under their arms, for economy's sake, or in a handkerchief 

 hung to a stick over their shoulders, aud their black skins, 

 hard as :i horse's fetlock, going with the action of a locomo- 

 tive. Here, also, resides the colored preacher-, who makes the 

 journey on Sunday to hear the professor preach to the white 

 people, and goes Home after a vigorous -'cramming" to fill 

 his own pulpit and win mark, d distinction among his own 

 race. We can imagine the unction with which he must hold 

 forth, and the ravs of genius an. I problems ot religious learn- 

 ing, showered too thick and fast, and I fear, also, loo tangled 

 up for comprehension, upon his open mouthed, sable congre- 

 gation. 



But we leave the black settlement.; it is an appropriate 

 background for the black stream on whose bank it stands, 

 and -when a couple of miles away, curve into the old, 

 roughly-worn King's tioad. Until late .years a stage per- 

 formed what passenger traffic there was over it between 

 Jacksonville and St. Augustine, and although the journey 

 over its forty miles must 'have been wearisome, and the jolt- 

 ing something- long to be remembered, it was probably as 

 desirable a trip then as the route, up the river from Jackson- 

 ville, by slow, wheezy boat, to Tocoi, and over the wooden 

 rails on the wretched" truck of those days, drawn by mule 

 power. Now, however, the business of the King's highway 

 is gone, and the fast, comfortable river steamers speed the 

 throng i travelers to where the wooden track and all its 

 appurtenances are supplanted by iron rails and the well 

 appointed trains, and where the steed with coat of mail and 

 lungs oi fire takes the place of the time-dishonored mule. 



From where we strike the King's road then is Sul Dili 

 house to be seen ,,,! thai 



one is but a mile or two away from us. OtU map Baj - 

 Davis, Little Davis, Sam Moran. Now, we looked hard 

 seethe habitation or person of both Big Davis aud Little 

 Davis, the latter being doubtless the sou of the former, but. 

 the dwelling of Sam Moran greeted our view without, our 

 having seen any sign of the Davises, and we concluded they 

 had moved their houses back from the road and were busy out 

 of our range. We found out afterward, though, that two In- 

 significant brooks were denoted by these names, and regri tl 

 that we had already embalmed in our memory the, stalwart, 

 venerable Davis, senior, and his more deminutive descendant. 

 Sam Moran, before alluded to, is a colored man, who has 

 whatever pleasure there is in living miles away from any 

 human being. Doubtless he is contented. Whenever he 

 feels a desire to see others he can go tu them ; and when he 

 wants to be undisturbed and let alone, not a step from boine 

 has he to go to secure these important blessings. The woods 

 teem with game, and he is probably not a stranger to the way 

 of obtaining it. For the rest he can look to his field for 

 lotatoes and hominy, and an occasional tramp to the 

 store will yield bacon. Enclosing his plantation we see a 

 well-developed earthwork, and arc lost for awhile wondering 

 what foe this defence is erected against in a country where 

 peaceful times prevail. Could it be that he has a mother-in- 

 law, from whom he has vainly sought refuge? At length, 

 when we came to where our road is ablaze with burning 

 grass, it dawns upon our understanding that I his embankment 



is to prevent the fires in the woods froin making all of 1-1 



industrious labors end in smoke. 



From Ham's house some twenty-three miles of road lay 

 before us, antl not a sign of human life did we see in all of it, 

 except an humble pedestrian, who, on being hailed, tlew the 

 African flag; was out one day from Jacksonville, bound to 

 St. Augustine; all well, and said nothing about, being re- 

 ported. From a sense of kindness, however, I here report 

 him, and doubt not that at the rate he theu carried sail he 

 made a timely arrival. 



The country seems higher since leaving Rooty Ford, with 

 occasional flat depressions ending in sluggish streams, winch 

 cross our mail, a marked example being the watershed to 

 Durbin Creek, a tributary or fork of Juliugton. Here, for 

 the distance of at least a mile, aud a breadth as far as v, 

 see, the land falls at an angle of about fifteen degrees, with 

 the even flatness of a shingled roof, and terminates in the 

 narrow, deep stream, which offers our only remaining ford of 

 consequence. By the roadside on onr journey we see 

 heather aud blue and pink lubius in bloom;' iu the low pine 

 lands are the paw-paw and carnivorous pitcher plant (sara- 

 c-aiiit), and in the swampy glades are beginners slraighlly 

 climbing the bark of the pine and cypress, yellow jassamines 

 iu a tangled snarl among the azaleas, the bright blooms of the 

 dogwood tree, the shining leaves of the magnolia, and low 

 down ou the ground the pure white petals of the swamp lily 

 and unopened buds of the calla. The sandy road is full of 

 the footprints of animals, some being of the roving cattle and 

 Some of deer, bears and smaller kinds, whose names we are 

 more or less uncertain about, and the wild turkey, with the 

 rest, comes out and puts his foot down iu the sand for the 

 interest of the passer by. "What they all are doing that they 

 do not show bodily form to us we cannot tell, but are after- 

 wards partly compensated for their inattention by the sight of 

 four dollars' worth of dead turkey hung to the saddle of a 

 butternut hunter, whose face is turned toward the city of 

 antiquity aud hotels. 



As we near St. Augustine the cattle have a more thrifty 

 look, doubtless in some measure due to the odor of the salt 

 air which the sea breeze wafts to our nostrils. Four miles 

 away groans old ocean; we can hear his inulllcd roar, and 

 above the sandy ridges soon spy the white shafts of both old 

 and new light houses, whose "pillar of fire by night. dJ 

 cloud by day" we are right glad to see. 'Down from 

 the pine woods we turn on San Sebastian's sandy- beach, 

 where whole armies of "fiddlers" are scurrying to 

 their holes aud marvellously disappear while we are looking 

 at them, vanishing as huge raindrops when they strike the 

 earth. Having only one claw apiece all round, who can 

 blame them for getting away so quickly out of danger. 



When we leave the beach it is after passing two or three 

 line residences and to gain the shell road, where houses are 

 dotted about, and a new palatial structure lowers above them 

 all. The voice of the billows ou the far beach become more 

 sonorous; ocean's expanse, specked with the sails of tiny craft, 

 stretches beyond tbe-light houses as far as eye can see"; Fort 

 Marion's dark outline is on the left, aud straight befon 

 stand the isolated coquiua gate-posts Of the ancient city. 

 Many approach its strange old precincts by rail, some by 

 billowy sea, and but few come dowu upon it as we did— by 

 the old highway. 0. D, D. ' 



Fur Forest and Stream aud Hod and ( 

 HISTORICAL SCENES AND PLACES AT 



flAGARA. 



ALL around Niagara are grounds historical, some of which 

 are but seldom visited by the tourist, and stranger, aud yet 

 which are quaiutand beautiful places. The traveler who only 

 looks upon and is absorbed by the mighty falling of the water, 

 and theu turns away and retraces his steps homeward, has left 

 many scenes behind which would have charmed him, scenes 

 too, very familiar to every angler in the neighborhood. I 

 intend to snow file reader these places and pub I out favorite 

 spots for angling, well knowing 1 am guiding only sportsmen, 

 and that they will enjoy the scenery aud be thankful for the 

 information. 



Coming out, from either the Cataract or International Hotel 

 we turn to the right. Wc keep the margin of the river .•mi 

 beat up against the stream, for our way lies east. We pass 

 the rapids and the head of Goat's Island, leaving the, turbulence 

 and noise of the rushing waters behind us. The river ahead 

 of us is running smoothly on. Sail boats are skimming the 

 waters. Not yet a hall" mile from the hotel, and opposite to 

 us across the river is one of Gen. Scott's battle grounds — 

 Chippewa. Here within ten minutes of the Falls is a favorite 

 fishing place, in May aud June black buss and pike are 

 abundant, and standing here on these canal piers the lover of 

 this Sport , may enjoy himself. This is the "Old French land- 

 ing." Just above us is a little island called "Grass Island," 

 whose green shows bright in its home of blue. 



Still keeping by the margin of the river, about a mile farther 

 on, and we are on the grounds of old Fort Schlosser. Built 



