[Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
Terms, 84 a Tear. 10 Cts. a Copy. I 
Sue Mo's, S3 , Three Bio's, 81. f 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1879. 
Volume 14—No.lS* 
No. Ill Fulton Street, New York. 
s Winter in £nst Jfiforidx, 
(SIXTH PAPER.) 
ST. JOHNS PRAIRIE—THE NARROWS — FORT CARBON, 
ING and Strobhar having finished hauling their logs 
to the tributary waters of the St, Sebastian, it was 
the intention of Strobhar to drive his oxen home to Eau 
Gallie — some thirty miles by land—on the day following 
our return from the head of the South Prong. Prank and 
I resolved to accompany him, hi order to see something of 
the back country. Accordingly, we built a rack for the 
cart, took a tent and a few supplies, and started soon 
after breakfast on a lovely morning in January. There 
being no roads our rate of travel was necessarily very 
slow, and we were two days in making the Journey, 
though we had a team of four good oxen. 
After leaving camp our course was W. N. W. some six 
miles through the pine woods, and along the borders of 
some long ponds, which were then nearly dry. We 
crossed the big cypress belt, which was parallel with and 
about midway between the Upper St. Johns and the 
Indian rivers. Along this belt we saw large numbers of 
cranes, herons, egrets and ibises, a few flocks of paro¬ 
quets, and an extensive buzzard roost, where there ap¬ 
peared to he thousands of buzzards hovering and 
circling around upon our approach. The cypresses were 
covered with epiphytes, or air plants, whose spikes of 
scarlet bloom appeared in pleasing contrast with the 
light green and feathery foliage. Floundering through 
the saw-grass that skirted the cypress timber, we at 
length came out upon the St. Johns prairie. These 
savannahs stretched away for miles, as far as the eye could 
reach, a sea ol'vivid living green, meeting on the horizon 
the boundless blue sky above. The monotony of the 
scene was somewhat relieved by clumps of palms, long 
distances apart, like oases in a desert. Here and there 
could be descried a stork or a wliito heron standing soli¬ 
tary and motionless, like silent sentinels .guarding the 
emerald wastes. A mysterious silence akin to awe op¬ 
pressed the sense painfully, and produced upon one the 
impression of a consciousness of immeasurable distances 
and solitude. 
Proceeding along the prairie a few miles in a northerly 
direction, we made for a narrow pine ridge, and camped 
for the night. Here we found a few mosquitos, hut 
they were not very troublesome. During the day I had 
procured a number of specimens of fresh water fishes 
from the small ponds about the head waters of the St. 
Sebastian. Some of them were new, among which were 
two varieties of Zygoneetes or top-minnows, that have 
since been named Z. sanguinlfrons and Z. henskalli, by 
Prof, D. S. Jordan. There was also a new genus, but it 
had been anticipated a short time previously by Prof. G. 
Brown Goode in his 11 Fishes of the St. Johns,” and which 
he had called Jordanella Floridana. In scooping out 
the specimens with a dip net, I found the moccasin 
snakes a little troublesome, and on one occasion I stirred 
up a huge alligator that had at some period in his early 
life lost his caudal appendage. He was an odd-looking 
customer, with an immense head and body and a bob- 
tail, and was unusually ferocious and remarkably active 
with his legs and jaws. On another occasion, while 
euttingaway the brash from around a small spring stream 
to allow the oxen to drink, a very bold 'gator seemed bent 
on having a taste of fresh beef, and came within an ace 
of seizing one of the oxen by the leg, but Strobhar gave 
him his quietus by burying the hatchet in his brain. 
Leaving the prairie we again struck into the flat woods 
on our right, and for a few miles followed the old mili¬ 
tary trail running from St. Augustine to Fort Capron. 
All that now remains of the trail are the old blazes on the 
trees. We killed a buck at the head of Turkey Creek, and 
a fawn near the head of Crane Creek. The balance of 
the journey was through the dense palmetto-scrub, 
whose imm ense roots, lying above ground like 
railway ties, made our progress exceedingly slow, and 
was the roughest bit of travel I ever experienced. We 
were not sorry when we at length reached the mouth of 
Elbow Creek, which we crossed, and soon arrived at Eau 
Gallie, where we found King waiting for us with his 
boat. The next day we returned to camp, well pleased, 
upon the whole, with our laborious trip. 
On the following morning we broke camp and pro¬ 
ceeded on our way down Indian River with a head wind. 
At the mouth of the St. Sebastian we passed the fine 
hammock of Mr. Gibson, and a few miles below we ar¬ 
rived at Barker’s Bluff, quite an eminence, on which is 
the cabin of Arthur Park. Opposite here is Pelican 
Island, a few acres in extent, and the first of a series of 
islands forming the narrows. The mangroves and water- 
oaks on this island have been all killed by the white ex¬ 
crement of the pelicans which breed there. This guano, 
which lies several inches deep on the ground, is utilized 
by the settlers as au efficient fertilizer. At a distance 
the dead trees and bushes and ground seemed covered 
with frost or snow, and thousands of grey pelicans were 
seen flying and swimming around or perched upon the 
dead branches. As we passed we saw a party of North¬ 
ern tourists at the island, shooting down the harmless 
birds by scores through mere wantonness. As volley 
after volley came booming over the water we l'elt quite 
disgusted at the useless slaughter, and bore away as soon 
as possible and entered the Narrows. Indian River Nar¬ 
rows is some ten miles in length and from an eighth to a 
half-mile in width ; the channel is about a hundred yards 
from the western shore or mainland. There are numer¬ 
ous oyster beds and reefs lying but a few inches below 
the surface of the water, and one must keep his eyes open 
even with a fair wind. As we were beating through, the 
difficulties were correspondingly increased, but we were 
extremely fortunate and merely touched the centre-board 
a few times in our passage through. The sceneiy in the 
Narrows is quite pleasing. On the right the mainland is 
a level bank, clothed with mangroves and water-oaks, 
with occasional patches of rushes and saw-grass, while in 
the background can be seen alternations of pine woods 
and hommocks, which once in a while ran down to the 
river bank. On the left are islands innumerable, with 
tortuous channels between them, and woe betide the un¬ 
lucky boatman who gets lost in the labyrinth of their in¬ 
tricate windings. The islands are green to the water’s 
edge with mangrove bushes, and the scene is enlivened 
by the numerous water-fowl, egrets, herons, pelicans, 
gallinules, water-turiries, cormorants and fish-crows, feed¬ 
ing near the islands, and the gulls, terns, vultures, os¬ 
preys and man-o’-war hawks, swooping, skimming and 
sailing in the air above. 
“ Look, what a queer snake 1” suddenly exclaimed 
Frank, as he seized his gun. 
We saw a snake apparently wiggling out of the water 
several feet into the air near one of the islands. As Frank 
fired, part of the snake dropped on the water, while the 
other part took wing and flew away. 
“ Did the snake drop the bird, or the bird drop the 
snake ?” asked Frank. 
“ Yes, that was about the way of it,” observed Ed. 
The explanation was quite simple. A snake-bird or 
water-turkey (Plotus anhinga), swimming with his long 
neck only out of the water, had the snake in his bill, 
which lie dropped and flew away when Frank fired his 
gun. Sidney Lanier’s description of this bird is cpiite 
characteristic:— 
“The water-turkey is the most preposterous bird within 
the range of ornithology. He is not a bird, he is a neck, 
with such subordinate rights, members, appurtenances, 
and hereditaments thereunto appertaining as seem neces¬ 
sary to that end. He has just enough stomach to arrange 
nourishment for his neck, just enough wings to fly pain¬ 
fully along with his neck, and just big enough legs to 
keep his neck from dragging on the ground : and his neck 
islight colored, while the rest of him is black. When he 
saw us he jumped on a limb and stared. Then suddenly 
he dropped into the water, sank like a leaden ball out of 
sight, and made us think he was drowned, when presently 
the tip of his beak appeared, then the length of his neck 
appeared, then the length of his neck lay along the sur¬ 
face of the water, and in this position, with his body sub¬ 
merged, he shot out his neck, drew it back, wriggled it, 
twisted it, twiddled it, and, spirally poked it into the east, 
the west, the north, the south, with a violence of involu¬ 
tion and a contortionary energy that made one think in 
the same breath of corkscrews and lightnings. But what 
nonsense ! All that labor and perilous asphyxiation, 
for a beggarly sprat or a couple of inches of water- 
snake 1” 
At the lower end of the Narrows is a staked channel 
leading off through the islands on the left, to the United 
States Life Saving Station, No. 1, on sea-beach, in charge 
of Mr. John Houston. Just as we were emerging from 
the Narrows we observed two deer feeding ou the main¬ 
land near the water’s edge, but they scampered away 
before we could obtain a shot. We had now got into the 
broard river again, with more sea-room for tacking, 
making long legs arid short ones ; but the greater number 
of oyster bars required extreme watchfulness and careful 
sail to avoid them. We could now see the stakes of the 
turtle nets with palmetto leaves fastened to their tops, all 
along the river below us ; but with our usual good luck 
we steered clear of all difficulties and arrived at the site 
of old Fort Capron late in the afternoon, where we camped 
hi a grove of bitter sweet orange trees near the mouth of 
a small brook of good, cool water, 
Fort Capron, quite a noted place on Indian River, is 
thirty-eight miles below St. Sebastian River and a hun¬ 
dred from Titusville. Directly opposite is an inlet to the 
sea, through which can be seen the white crests of the 
breakers as they sparkle in the sunlight. The only ves¬ 
tiges of the old military post are a fallen chimney and the 
debris of a brick bake-oven ; but the parade-ground and 
a moat or ditch can still be distinctly traced. There are 
evidences of a good state of cultivation at some remote 
period in the furrowed ground, the groves of sour and 
bitter sweet oranges, limes, lemons and guavas ; in the 
hedges of oleander, Spanish bayonet and Cherokee rose, 
and in the ornamental groups of date palms, century 
plants, cacti and sisal hemp. There are hut two or three 
houses in the vicinity, the principal one belonging to 
Judge Paine, at whose house is the post office, the last on 
the river, and called St. Lucie. Judge Paine is au old 
resident, and is United States revenue officer for this 
locality; he has a comfortable home and keeps a few 
boarders during the winter. There are also the houses of 
Mr. Jones and Mr. Cassidy. Four miles below is the site 
of Fort Pierce where lives Mr. Bell. 
There were several turtling camps scattered along be¬ 
tween the foot of the Narrows and Fort Pierce, the princi¬ 
pal ones belonging to Judge Paine, Martin and Hoke, 
Jim Russell and Jim Bassett and August Park. The green 
turtle is here taken in gill nets with a mesh of eighteen 
inches. The business is quite profitable, there having 
been taken last winter several thousand turtles varying 
in weight from twenty to a hundred pounds. They are 
kept in crowls and shipped North, via., Titusville and 
Jacksonville. The turtlers have many difficulties to con¬ 
tend with, however, not the least among them being the 
numerous saw-fish, sharks and rays which play sad havoc 
with the nests occasionally. The channels and guts 
among the small islands near the inlet abound in oysters 
of a delicious flavor, and the fishing is the best on the river. 
Red fish, sea trout, sheepshead, crevttlli, grouper, black 
fish, drum, snapper, cat fish, and other varieties of the 
finny tribe can he taken by the boat load if necessary. 
The tide rushes through the narrow guts like a mill tail, 
and fishing, even with a hand-line, is exciting sport, en¬ 
hanced once in awhile by fastening to a shark. Wild 
fowl are plentiful enough to afford good sport, and in 
old fields near Capron will be found numerous bevies of 
quail. A mile or two back of the old fort there is superb 
snipe shooting on the savannahs or wet prairies. In 
Taylor Creek and several smaller streams there is fine 
blackbass and bream fishing. One can here live on 
the fat of the land ; green turtle, oysters, crabs, fish, veni¬ 
son, duck, quail, snipe, etc., can be had for the taking, 
without price. 
The day following our arrival at Fort Capron was Sun¬ 
day, and as the hoys could neither fish nor hunt they 
were quite eager to 'go over to the inlet and get on to the 
sea beach, for as yet they had not seen the sea, though 
they had heard the roar and clash of the breakers almost 
daily. As the wind was northwest and rising, and the 
swift-flying scud portended dirty weather, I endeavored 
to dissuade them from the attempt and pokitpcl out the 
danger should a norther set in. But they were impor¬ 
tune u and I at last gave in, though against’ my judgment 
and inclination. After taking everything out of the boat 
we started, leaving Marion in charge of the camp, who 
remarked that he did not want to be drowned on a Sun¬ 
day. We made a quick sail across and anchored under 
the mangroves, where the water was quite deep. Low¬ 
ering the sail the boys struck out for the beach, but I 
deemed it advisable to stay in the boat as the tido was 
running out strongly ; ancl it was well that I did so. I 
had cautioned the boys to be back in an hour, and sat 
smoking my pipe awaiting their return. I soon discov¬ 
ered that the anchor was dragging and that the rash of 
the tide, was tremendous in consequence of the water 
being blown to that side of the river. If the cable had 
parted I should soon have been drifting out to sea with a 
norther coming on. As the bottom seemed to be solid 
rock and the anchor continued to drag, 1 carried a line 
ashore and made it fast to a big mangrove. The wind 
had now increased to a gale ; black, ominous clouds were 
piling up in the northwest and an angry sea was lashing 
the river into a boiling cauldron, while I was completely 
drenched with spray. The boys now returned loaded 
with shells, corals,’ sea-beans, etc., and looked with 
amazement at the wild scene and with evident misgiv¬ 
ings of trouble ahead. 
“Well, boys,” said I, “ make up your minds quickly ; 
we must get’back at once or stay hero without food or 
water. Which horn of the dilemma will you take ?” 
“ How long will this storm last?” anxiously inquired 
Ed. 
“ I can’t tell,” said 1; certainly all night, and probably 
two or three days, as these northers often do. It’s get¬ 
ting worse every .minute.” 
“Do you think we can get hack?” asked Frank, and 
added : “ It looks worse than the sea." 
“ Yes,” I answered, “if you do as I tell you, and the 
rigging and rudder hold. But we will have some trouble 
in getting away from this lee shore.” 
"Well, let's try it,” said Frank; "we may as well 
drown as starve to death !" 
