[Entered According to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1679, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
T *SEV& ,%£hroe So'g) Sl!’ y ’ f NEW YORK, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1879. 
Volume 13—No. 14. 
No. Ill Fulton Street, New York. 
Original. 
IN MY SANCTUM. 
BY KED BtlSTTINE. 
TN my sanctum, never lonely, 
-*■ Books and papers all around— 
Rods and guns and trophies many 
In each nook and corner found— 
Here I love to sit and listen 
To the pelting of the rain. 
To the war of Autumn's tempests 
Smiting on the window pane. 
Closing eyes and waking, dreaming, 
Hunt X over many a field. 
See again the elk and bison 
To my searching bullet yield— 
See the Red-Skin look amazement 
As the prairie monarchs fall 
So fast and surely, deadly stricken 
By the swift repeating ball 
Hear the bull moose sound his trumpet 
In the marsh of Tamarack- 
Through my horn of birch-bark quickly 
Flies the tempting answer back, 
Soon I hear him madly crashing 
Through the tangled underwood— 
Be cool 1 A wound will only madden. 
Let him have it—Sure and good! 
Crack 1 old Teoumseh tells no falsehood: 
See the monster reel and fall. 
Spouts the red froth from his muzzle— 
Quick! Your knife and end it all. 
Not even Bergh at this could cavil, 
'Twas so quickly, neatly done! 
Hail- all hail the sturdy heroes 
Of Forest, Stream and Rod and Gun, 
In my sanctum oft I converse 
Cheer'ly with my well-worn pen— 
Getting answers fond and faithful 
From the truest, best of men— 
Those who love the Stream and Forest, 
Good of heart and noblest are, 
They’re the friends I love to know, 
Friends to keep and friends to wear! 
S in <§nst florid*. 
(SEVENTH PAPER.) 
ST. LUCIE RIVER—JUPITER NARROWS—JUPITER INLET, 
T HE '‘norther” mentioned in the preceding paper 
lasted two days, and was followed by a slight frost, 
the only one experienced by us in Florida. Our sojourn 
at Fort Capron was passed very agreeably in hunting, 
fishing and beach-combing. At the inlet I procured some 
rare and interesting specimens of marine fishes, among 
them a Mexican star-gazer (Astroscopus y grcecum), which 
possessed decided electric powers. We obtained some 
lumber aud built a dingy, or tender for the Blue Wing, 
which was in constant requisition by the boys in rowing 
to the various camps of the turtlers and oystermen, and to 
the fishing-grounds and sea-beach. They had an object 
of special interest in a huge loggerhead turtle, which was 
moored to a stake in shallow water at the camp of Jim 
Russell. They went up daily to feed him oysters in the 
shell, and took great delight in seeing him crunch the 
bivalves like wafers, swallowing shells and all. 
About sundown one warm and muggy evening the 
sand-flies put in an appearance and worried the boys con¬ 
siderably, as it was their first experience with these pests. 
They were soon enveloped in clouds of smoke from a 
hastily-built smudge, which seemed to only add to their 
torments. I know of nothing so aggravating and exas¬ 
perating as sand-flies when one undertakes to “fight” 
them, for one is sure to lose his temper in the operation, 
and this seems to increase the ferocity of the insects. 
While one is vainly brushing, slapping and striking at 
them, they will crowd into his ears, nostrils and hair in 
constantly increasing swarms, seeming to be attracted by 
the violent flourishing of the sufferer’s arms. The best 
plan is to heroically endure the burning, stinging and 
creeping torments for a few minutes, making no effort to 
drive them off, when in a short time one will get used to 
them, and will be surprised to find how little they will 
annoy him; though it will require the resolution of a 
martyr and the stoicism of an Indian to do this. It is 
only about the inlets and on the sea-beach that sand-flies 
are found, and they are only troublesome on still, sultry 
days about sunrise and sunset, seldom continuing their 
annoying visitations longer than an hour. 
We finally set sail from Capron and went boundingalong 
down river with a fresh breeze, soon passing Taylor 
Creek, some three miles below. A mile further on we 
were abreast of the site of Fort Pierce, on a high com¬ 
manding bluff, where the fine parade-ground can still be 
seen sloping towards the river. We were now below the 
oyster-beds, and the river opened into a broad sheet of 
water called St. Lucie Sound, extending from Indian 
River Inlet to Jupiter Narrows. The mainland was now 
a succession of bluffs and hills well wooded with pines, 
and now and then expensive hammocks of hard wood and 
palmettoes, while on the level beach strip on the left 
were long rows of cabbage trees, with a dense under¬ 
growth of scrub and sea-grape. Passing Bird Island we 
soon discovered the bay at the mouth of St. Lucie River, 
and just ahead of us on the beach side was the palmetto 
hut of “ Old Cuba,” nestling in an exceedingly rich ham¬ 
mock some twenty miles below Fort Capron. " 
“Old Cuba,” as he is called on the river, “lives all 
alone in the little log hut,” and is the only settler between 
Fort Pierce and Jupiter Inlet. As we put in and made 
fast to the end of his wharf he welcomed us heartily. He 
was a little, dried-up old fellow about five feet high, with 
a machete half as long as himself hanging to his belt. On 
his head he wore a broad-brimmed palmetto hat turned 
up in front, under which was tucked a banana leaf to 
shade his sparkling black eyes from the noonday sun. A 
pair of sail-duck pants and a white cotton shirt com¬ 
pleted his attire. 
“ Mr. Cuba, have you any sweet potatoes to spare?” I 
asked. 
“Sweet-a potato!” exclaimed he. “Y-e-s, plen-ty 
sweet potato. Plen-ty punkin’, Plen-ty banana. Plen-ty 
cassava. Tomat—garlic—plen-ty.” 
In a clearing of a few acres in the centre of the ham¬ 
mock, well sheltered from the winds, he raised a pro¬ 
fusion of tropical fruits, vegetables, sugar cane and to¬ 
bacco. He is a Cuban refugee, and while digging the 
potatoes he gave us a history of his exploits in the liber¬ 
ating army of Cuba, where he was known by the 
sobriquet of the “Sand-fly.” 
After putting aboard a barrel of sweet potatoes, a bunch 
of bananas and some pumpkins, we bore away for the 
mouth of the St. Lucie River, some five miles below, op¬ 
posite to which could be seen U. S. Life Saving Station 
No. 3 on the beach ridge, and five miles below that a gap 
in the line of trees marks the location of Gilbert’s Bar— 
formerly an inlet, but now closed. In the broad bay at 
the mouth of the St. Lucie we saw growing great quan¬ 
tities of a grass-like plant resembling wild celery 
(valisneria), upon which were feeding thousands of coots 
and ducks. We entered the river with the wind behind 
us, and went dashing along at a spanking rate. Suddenly 
I felt a severe shock, as the boat struck somethingbeneath 
the surface of the water, which seemed to lift her up as 
she glided over it. Then there was a violent commotion 
in the water at our stern, which nearly capsized the 
dingy in tow, and we saw at the same time a curiously 
shaped head and a flipper lifted above the surface, which 
instantly disappeared, followed by a glimpse of a queer¬ 
looking tail, broad, flat and rounded. Ed sprang up, 
looking quite pale about the gills, and seemed inclined to 
“get out.” 
“Sit down, Ed," said I, “ ’tis only a sea cow, and it's 
more scared than you are.” 
“ I thought it was a water quake,” exclaimed Frank. 
The St. Lucie is the largest stream emptying into 
Indian River, and its waters, including those of the bay 
at its mouth, are quite fresh. It is here that the sea cow, 
or manatee, flourishes, feeding on the aquatic grass in 
the river and bay. There have been several captured 
alive with immense rope nets within the past few years, 
one being caught in this manner by Old Cuba, which was 
kept in a crawl that still stands at the mouth of the 
river. It was shipped North during the Centennial year 
by Jim Russell, who reported to Cuba that it died in 
transit. 
On the north bank of the St. Lucie are a number of 
high ridges sloping to the river, and well timbered. We 
saw several prehistoric mounds along that side of the 
river, some of which were on top of the ridges, and had, 
no doubt, been used by the Indians as signal stations, as 
they were quite bare of trees. The south bank is a suc¬ 
cession of level pine forests, with a heavy undergrowth 
of palmetto scrub. We sailed up the river some ten 
miles to the main fork, where it divides into a north and 
a south branch. We camped on a burn in the open pine 
woods at the confluence of the two streams. 
In this secluded spot we found game in abundance. 
The nearest human habitations were Cuba’s and the 
station, some fifteen miles down stream, and across 
Indian River. Lake Okechobee was thirty miles due 
west. The North Branch some ten miles above separates 
into a number of streams, among which are Five and 
Ten-Mile Creeks, the latter approaching within ten miles 
of Fort Capron. The South Branch runs away down to 
the westward of Jupiter lighthouse, and has its origin iu 
the Everglades. One small creek emptying into the South 
Branch just above our camp, I traced to its source in the 
saw-grass a few miles above. It was thronged with 
'gators of assorted sizes, and I could have shot them by 
scores as they lay asleep on the banks; as it was, I as¬ 
tonished a few by prodding them with the boat-hook. As 
I quietly paddled along in the dingy I surprised many 
aquatic birds of various kinds—waders, swimmers aud 
divers. Among the number the beautiful roseate spoon, 
bill (Platalea ajaja ), called by Floridians the “pink cur¬ 
lew.” 
The black bass fishing in the South Branch was 
really too much of a good thing. On favorable days, 
even with the fly, one soon tired of the sport, for it re¬ 
quired no skill whatever to lure them from the dark but 
clean water. Those caught averaged four pounds, and 
the largest I took weighed nine pounds, though 1 saw 
some heavier ones in the main river. We caught here 
both mullet and sergeant fish, ten miles from salt water, 
though, on the other hand, I had previously taken black 
bass and bream in the brackish water near the mouth of 
the St. Sebastian. 
One night the boys went out for a fire-hunt, and as I 
had a prejudice against that style of sport, I volunteered 
to keep the camp during their absence. They fixed tho 
lantern on a pole, with a bright tin pan behind it for a 
reflector, which answered admirably. In an hour, ail 
but Frank and Ben came in, bringing a fine buck ; though 
it was not long before they, too, came back in great haste 
and quite blown. It seemed that after shooting the 
buck, Frank and Ben, being the only ones who wished to 
continue the sport, proceeded for a mile or more through 
the pine woods to a thicket near the North Branch, 
where they caught a glimpse of a flashing eye. While 
cautiously advancing, endeavoring to “shine the eye” of 
the supposed deer, they were startled and terrified" by an 
unearthly, and, as Frank said, a “blood-curdling" yell 
proceeding from the thicket. Frank, in a tremulous 
voice, cried “Indians !” whereupon they beat a hasty re¬ 
treat toward camp, to which they were guided by the 
lire of pine logs which I had kept blazing vigorously. A 
panther had been the cause of their alarm, and we heard 
him again during the night. The next day Frank brought 
in what he termed a young panther, but it proved to be a 
full-grown wild cat, which had run up a tree near the 
river where Frank was shooting ‘gators. We saw a num¬ 
ber of deer during our stay, but shot only one more as 
we bad meat in abundance. 
After spending a week in the delightful wilderness up 
the St. Lucie, we broke camp and proceeded down the 
river and across to the Life Saving Station in charge of 
Mr, Malden. It stands on a high ridge that is not more 
than seventy-five yards in width, and which separates 
Indian River from the sea. One can stand on the ve¬ 
randah of the Station and cast a stone into the water on 
either side. Along the beach is a hairier of dark coral¬ 
line roolcs, seamed and fissured, and worn into hollows 
and caves by the ever, restless sea. Beyond is an out¬ 
lying reef, where the rollers break and form long lines of 
foam-crested combers, which chase each other in rapid 
succession and come tumbling and dashing on the rock- 
bound shore, thundering and roaring through the rents 
and caverns with an awful sound, causing the very 
earth to tremble beneath one’s feet. By moonlight the 
scene is singularly beautiful, wild, and impressive. 
We found at the Station a Mr. Dye of Lake Worth, and 
a boatman, named Sandlin, who had for a passenger a 
gentleman from New Hampshire, also bound for Lake 
Worth. Sandlin had a fine Boston-built keel yacht called 
the Hero. After supper, a favorable breeze springing up, 
Dye proposed to sail through Jupiter Narrows by motn- 
light, as he wished to leave Jupiter Inlet on the last of 
the ebb-tide on the following morning for Lake Worth. 
As the boys were eager to go on, the Hero and Blue 
Wing started about 9 o’clock and had just entered the 
Narrows about two miles below, when the wind began to 
lull. We proceeded a mile or two further to an expan¬ 
sion of the Narrows known as Peck's Lake, when the 
moon set, and the sky became overcast, threatening rain. 
We then sailed aoross the lake to Peck’s Landing, near 
the sea beach, where we camped for the night. In the 
morning it was quite foggy, having rained heavily while 
we slept, After breakfast we broke camp aud started 
again, the Hero leading with Dye as pilot, for it was im¬ 
possible to see for more than twenty yards ahead. As 
she glided along with a good breeze, she looked like a 
phantom yacht in the thick fog. In a half hour, however, 
the fog lifted, and the sun shone out brightly, driving 
the owls to bed who had beenjiooting at us through the 
heavy mist. 
Jupiter Narrows is about eight miles in length, and, be¬ 
low Peck’s Lake is nowhere more than fifty yards in 
width, often narrowing to as many feet. The water is 
deep all the way through, but the channel is quite tortu¬ 
ous in its windings aud turnings through the mangrove 
