A CANOE TRIP TO OKEECHOBEE. 



339 



hours to pole np it. At last, just before 

 sunset, we emerged into the great, mys- 

 terious Okeechcbze, the dismal lake of 

 swamps and mosquitoes. As far as we 

 could see the coast was a line of low 

 bushes and an occasional stunted cypress, 

 with a fringe of tall grass growing out into 

 the lake. Night was at hand, and we hus- 

 tled for a place to camp. The most prom- 

 ising looking place was a cypress with 

 some bushes around it, but when we got 

 there we found no shore; nothing but a 

 wretched swamp, 2 feet deep in water. 

 We pushed on to other places, but still 

 the same villainous, bushy swamp, with 

 nothing behind it but miles of sawgrass. 

 It was getting dark, the lake was getting 

 rough, and there was no ground to camp 

 on. We had to force the boats as far into 

 the grass and bushes as we could and 

 camp in a foot of water. Cook we must, 

 so we cut a few armfuls of reeds and 

 brush, piled them up on the water and 

 started a fire. There was no chance to 

 cook anything but dog-chokers and bacon, 

 and we came near not getting those, for 

 as night settled down mosquitoes, in num- 

 bers few would believe without seeing, as- 

 sailed us, and it was > with difficulty we 

 finished our meal. The noise of the in- 

 sects was like that of swarming bees. It 

 was not a humming — it was a terrifying 

 roar. I had heard tales of mosquitoes in 

 the 10,000 islands darkening the air, and 

 now I believe them all. We bolted our 

 supper and flew to putting up the boat 

 tents and hanging the bars; but so thick 

 were the insects we could not entirely keep 

 them out, and it was after one o'clock 

 when we got to sleep. 



Early the next morning we continued 

 South, and after some 15 miles sighted a 

 small bay formed by a point of low timber 

 and bushes running out in the lake. As 

 we drew nearer we saw a white speck in- 

 side the point, which proved to be a tent 

 fly. occupied by 3 'gator hunters. They 

 told us that was Sand Point, the only spot 

 of dry ground for many miles up or down 

 the lake. We were much surprised at the 

 absence of bird life on the lake. There 

 was nothing but a few coots and an oc- 

 casional fish hawk. We were wind bound 

 at that place 5 days and learned much 

 about the lake from one of the hunters 

 who had lived years in the everglade coun- 

 try. They were going to Pelican lake. 

 South of Okeechobee. They told me, as 

 did another party I met, that millions of 

 curlew and ibis had rookeries there. 



We spent most of our time under our 

 bars, but sometimes during the dav we 

 climbed the highest cvpress we could find 

 and escaped the insects for a time. From 

 that height we could see miles in every 

 direction, and there is no more God-for- 

 saken place in the United States than 



Okeechobee. On the East and North, the 

 limitless lake; away to the West, over 20 

 miles of sawgrass. There a faint blue line 

 marked the great, unbroken woods, 

 stretching away to the everglades and the 



OLD EVERGLADES. 



Gulf. To the South the sawgrass reaches 

 60 miles. Off in that distant timber were 

 deer, turkeys in plenty, bears, panthers, 

 cats and Florida wolves, but we could as 

 easily have reached them in the moon. 



The hunters took advantage of their en- 

 forced stay at the point to load shells for 

 their hunt. Old Everglades had an old 

 .45-60 Winchester and I watched him run 

 bullets and load. It would have made Mr. 

 Barlow and all the other members of the 

 Ideal Manufacturing Company shudder to 

 see him. He had an old piece of tin for a 

 ladle, bent so it would hold a little lead. 

 That he would hold in the fire till the lead 

 melted, and then pour it into a cold, rusty 

 mould. The result was bullets that looked 

 as if they had smallpox, and no 2 were 

 alike. However, I suppose they answered 

 for killing alligators, which are usually 

 shot at short range. 



When the wind and waves finally calmed 

 down we were quite ready to return. As 

 E. said. Okeechobee was our fighting 

 word. The farther we got from the lake 

 the fewer insects there were. In fact, they 

 troubled us little elsewhere but I believe 

 one night spent on Okeechobee, in the 

 spring or summer, without protection, 

 would kill the toughest man in the world. 



Our voyage down the river was so swift 

 and easy it repaid us for our hard work in 

 getting up. 



