FOREST AND STREAM 
83 
er a fusilade of small arms is kept up on every living thing, 
from alligators to the useful buzzards that clustered upon 
the floating carrion. Every man and boy feels called upon 
to do some “sporting” in Florida, and all are armed with 
as varied a lot of guns and pistols as would adorn an arse¬ 
nal. The rapid movement of the river boats prevents any 
very serious results to the animals and birds, unless when 
now and then the ricochet of a ball kills a cow in the 
woods; but it amuses all but the timid people, and is a cus¬ 
tom of very great value to the Union Metallic Cartridge 
Company. 
The birds seem well informed as to the range of modern 
arms. The stately and beautiful snowy herons spread their 
white wings only when rifles are raised, and the less 
beautiful alligator seems to know just when to launch him¬ 
self to save his scaly sides from harm. The animal life of 
the lower St. John is not of the simple kind, but the deni¬ 
zens of this Broadway know a thing or two, and are not to 
be taken in by any cheap tricks. Consequently our guns 
were idle, and nothing aroused us from the quiet state of 
enjoyment that is so valuable to the strained minds that 
have been keeping pace with the restlessness of northern 
life. 
Above Palatka the river becomes less lake-like. There 
is more perceptible current, and it bends and drifts by isl¬ 
ands, when the channel being nearer the shore more of the 
forest is seen. Unbroken woods and ranks of tall stems 
come quite to the water’s edge; indeed, the huge cypress 
trees stand in the margin, and surrounded by the pointed 
upward roots, rising from one to four feet high, called 
knees, they give a novel appearance to the ground, while 
overhead the long grey drapery of Spanish moss adds an 
impression that these are bearded woods of unknown age, 
hoary and ancient as Druid oaks. Fresh and bright are 
the grand magnolias, every dark green leaf polished until 
they ere silver in the sunlight, and as a new form to the 
northern eye the tall palmettos raise their tufted crowns of 
huge leaves. On dry ground the live oak assumes superb 
proportions, its low spreading form and broad shade being 
in grateful contrast to the rigid formality and upright lines 
of the southern pines, so abundant and so monotonous. 
Beneath these trees is a varied and interesting growth of 
forms very strange in contrast with the small thin under¬ 
growth of the north. The huge leaves of the cabbage pal¬ 
metto, five or six feet in diameter, are very handsome with 
their crimped fan-like radiating form, and the saw palmetto 
shrub is very similar. A wealth of small growth and vines 
is mingled in the green tangle, while parasitic plants, mis¬ 
tletoe, and air plants form mid air clusters foreign.to any 
our hardwood hills present. 
The evening of this day found us at Lake G-eorge, where 
we anchored far enough from shore to avoid the mosqui¬ 
toes. Rising at early dawn we found ourselves surrounded 
by myriads of ducks, covering the water, and looming up 
in the distance like low islands, ©ur skiffs were launched, 
and various strategy called into play in efforts to reinforce 
our larder with their plump forms; but it was calm and 
clear, and they were not to be caught napping. A few 
were shot from the tug when bearing down at high speed, 
and among the islands smaller flocks were more easily sur¬ 
prised. 
Anchoring in one of the unfrequented channels among 
the islands, part of our company went into the woods, 
while your correspondent took a light skiff and a boatman 
and explored one of the deep dark channels that make far 
into the wilderness. The entrance was among the lilies, 
called bonnets by the natives. Here and there lay alliga¬ 
tors, eyeing us wickedly, and they were far more bold than 
in the main river. On the low points, resembling the spirit- 
uelle as completely as the alligators represent the infernal, 
were stately, snowy herons, the most beautiful feature of 
all this sunny land. Following the dark thread of water 
through a profusion of semi-aquatic growth, we entered 
the forest until it overreached the narrow water, and was, 
in all its beauty, repeated in the calm flood below. The 
long grey moss hung almost to its reflection, and in the 
long vista all mingled into a confusion of waving form and 
shadow that concealed the water line, making a scene as 
indefinite and unreal as a dream. All kinds of birds and 
animals fluttered on before us or stole away into the woods. 
The grotesque snake birds, or water turkeys, wriggled and 
stared, and then tumbled off their perches with a helpless 
splash into the water as if overcome with astonishment, 
and would next be seen with two or three inches of snake¬ 
like head and neck, going rapidly by. Precisely do they 
resemble a small swimming snake, and one can hardly be¬ 
lieve that there is so large a bird under the surface. At the 
end of this stream, in the dim light that found its way 
through the huge leaves, we came upon a congress of owls, 
assembled beyond doubt in the mysteries of some ancient 
order of Minerva, and never was so much wisdom so sol¬ 
emnly arra 3 r ed. Silent, dignified, and conservative, doing 
nothing lightly, committing themselves to no unmatured 
ideas, even and temperate, what body could equal them? 
I had seen less manifest self-respect in the great and august 
men who eat pea nuts in the beautiful chambers at Wash¬ 
ington; and even the negro policemen at Charleston were 
not more staid and haughty. I was awed, and felt myself 
an unwarranted intruder, but longed for the skill of the 
artist Beard to bring from this midwood court a record of 
•age and ancient conclave that, as wigs and ancient digni¬ 
ties become obsolete, we might see what in the evolutions 
and natural selections of a new Darwinian day may give 
us a new and more wise race. Silently we gazed mutually; 
on my part a conviction of trespass became uncomfortable, 
and I was about framing an apology in long words of Greek 
derLation when the grey wings opened and the whole party 
flitted silently away, merging into the smoke colored moss 
like a transformation scene. 
Life abounds in these retreats. Here the wood duck win¬ 
ters in solitude, curlew sweep along in flocks, coot and rail 
run among the sedge, deer come shyly down to drink, or 
frightened by the puma plunge in and seek refuge in swim¬ 
ming. Under the bonnets are voracious, wide mouthed 
bass, called trout by the natives, who know not our clear 
northern waters nor the bright-hued fish that enliven them; 
and when the sun is bright huge gar fish, or alligator gar, 
long nosed fellows, bask near the surface. Hear springs 
where the waters are clear the study of aquatic life is very 
interesting. In one such stream, with a bright sandy bot¬ 
tom I saw more varieties of fish than I can describe or 
name. Among them in groups were fish like pike, from 
one to two and three feet long. The gar were abundant, 
and four to six feet in length, going off like arrows, and 
leaving a swirl like a propeller. In deeper spots clustered 
bass, a spotted fish I could not learn the name of, end fish 
called silver fish, while flitting along like bats, raising little 
clouds of sand with each stroke of their liver colored wings, 
were electric rays, or stingarees. Under our boat, too, un¬ 
dulated the water moccasin, eyeing us angrily, and darting 
out a forked tongue most viciously. At another time, in 
one of these bayous near Enterprise, while paddling along, 
I shot a small alligator, some four feet long. The ball 
tipped and cut his skull, and, as my excellent boatman 
July said, killed him. Poking him up from the bottom we 
took him guardedly aboard. He was seemingly very dead, 
so his shiny form was placed under the bow deck, over 
which I stood shooting at gar fish, hoping to get one. I 
had forgotten the fellow, when I was astonished by a 
smashing under my feet, and with a jump over July made 
my escape into the stern, where a lady was sitting, just in 
time to save my legs from a rasp of his well aimed tail. 
Out he came, smashing and spoiling for a muss, his long 
mouth open, and an unpleasant look of mischief in his 
bloody head and eyes. There were just then some amaz¬ 
ing ideas suggested. Jumping overboard was going from 
the alligator frying pan into a fire of sting rays, electric 
eels, and moccasins. Shooting him was a pleasant and re¬ 
vengeful idea, but it meant blowing a hole in the bottom 
of the boat. The old story of the ‘natural histories re¬ 
minded me that it was the proper thing to jump on his 
back and hold up his fore legs; but I was at the wrong end 
of him, and riding one without a saddle is not a thing to 
do even with the spur of necessity. It was rather close. 
The boat was not as long as we wished it was, and we had 
exhausted our retreat, but, master of the situation, he 
waddled on with an air of conquest and extermination until 
July met him bravely and punished him with the but of an 
oar until he was again stunned. We had lost confidence in 
killing him, and to be safe tied him overboard and towed 
him to a landing, where he recovered his fine disposition 
under a system of annoyance from all the visitors, and fin¬ 
ally gave evidence of it by biting a man. When I heard 
this I said nothing of his being my pet, and due justice 
was meted him. 
Injury from alligators is very uncommon, but they are 
at times very fierce. A gentleman going to recover a duck 
shot on the upper St. John saw an alligator seizing it, and 
poured a charge of shot into his head, when the injured 
and infuriated beast turned and bit a large piece, gunwale 
and all, from the skiff. Their power is very great, and 
when wounded they give evidence of it, thrashing and 
crushing all about them. I shot one through the head on 
Six Mile Creek, and he leaped from the ground until he 
looked as high as a horse. Heavy and awkward as they 
seem, they are not to be approached unguardedly, and al¬ 
though always ready to escape; if prevented they are very 
vicious. 
But I have wandered far from our tug, to which follow 
me back, and listen to the echoes to the long whistle which 
I sound to guide the party in the woods. They soon re¬ 
turn, and nightfall finds us again merry in the little cabin. 
L.W.L. 
---— 
For Forest and Stream. 
THE PIKE-PERCH IN LAKE PEPIN. 
T HE pike-perch, (Stitzosteclion Americanus,) is in this 
lake one of the most noted game fishes, and is infer¬ 
ior to none other for the table. The habits of this fish 
seem to be well known to most writers, but I am persuaded 
that with this as with some others, their habits differ some¬ 
what in different waters. All agree that they spawn in 
April, but I have known them to spawn in this lake as 
early as the 15t,h of March; I think, however, this is not 
always the case. They choose for their beds clean sandy 
(not gravelly) bottoms in shallow water, from two to six 
feet deep. As soon as the lake freezes over they commence 
looking for suitable spawning grounds, and having once 
selected, and “pre-emptied” them there, they reipain until 
the spawning season is over. This is a singular and inter¬ 
esting fact, and one of which I have not the least doubt. 
The pickerel is their great enemy and sometimes succeeds 
in “jumping” their claims. The spawning grounds here 
are as well known to me and other observers as the position 
in the heavens of the north star. These fish are taken very 
late in autumn, but never on the spawning grounds until 
the lake is frozen over. You may visit these grounds one 
day and not discover a single fish, but should the lake freeze 
over the same night, then the next day, if the ice is suffi¬ 
ciently strong to hold you, you may pay these grounds a 
visit and find plenty of pike-perch. This I have known to 
be the case time and again. And I know that they remain 
right here, fighting off every other fish, except the pickerel, 
who is their enemy and master, until the spawn is deposit¬ 
ed in the spring. Hence I conclude that they select their 
spawning grounds as early as November and December. 
This singular fact has interested me very much for years. 
As soon as the young brood is able to take care of itself, it 
strikes for deeper water, remaining together as a family and 
not commingling with others. For weeks they remain so 
closely together that a half bushel would easily cover the 
entire brood. I have seen thousands of these families so 
near together than many would suppose them to be a regu¬ 
lar school, yet every brood separate and distinct from the 
others. I have seen large fish dart at them, when they 
would endeavor to fly away together, no one leaving his 
kindred until the affectionate family !s scattered. Even 
then they will make an effort to re-unite, but no doubt 
some of the little fellows have been forever separated from 
the family circle. They will thus remain together during 
the whole of the first season, unless broken up by their 
enemies. These observations have many times intensely in¬ 
terested me. I am aware however that this is a habit 
characteristic of the young broods of some other fish, es¬ 
pecially of the Lcibracins , or basses. The habitat of the 
adult, or if you please, its accustomed feeding grounds in 
summer, has been a more difficult matter to determine. In 
running water I should look for them exactly where I would 
look for trout; but in lakes they seem to remain in no one 
place any length of time. As long as I have angled for 
these fish here, I can never determine before hand where I 
am going to find them. The same pickerel and bass 
grounds hold good year after year, and we always know 
what to expect when we visit these' places. Hot so with 
the pike-perch. One day you will find them near shore, 
next in deep water, and the next at the mouth of creeks or 
sloughs. The most are caught off the ends of points in ten 
to twenty feet of water. Sometimes they are found very 
near the shore rolling and sporting in the waves. In this 
case the bottom is always gravelly and stoney. They seem 
to abhor an abrupt rocky shore. Once my friend Mr. 
Gibbs struck a large school (they seldom are found in 
schools) sporting in huge waves so near the shore that his 
cast could reach them with ease. The wind was blowing 
(in shore) a regular gale, and the water, when still, could 
not have been more than two feet deep. They seemed to 
be holding a jubilee, but, poor fellows, destruction overtook 
many of them, and those that were left must have mourned 
for their brethern “for they were not.” 
With the brook chub, {Moxastoma oblongum ,) for bait, 
Mr. Gibbs took, in a little over an hour, so many that he 
was obliged to get a wheelbarrow with which to take them 
home. The load was so heavy that he was actually 
obliged to get help before he could reach his house three- 
quarters of a mile distant. When I have heard liim men¬ 
tion this trip he would puff and blow as though he was 
living the scene over again. Frequent and subsequent 
visits under like circumstances, to the same locality, have 
failed to find the fish. Owing to the uncertainty of their 
feeding grounds, not a great many of these fish are usually 
taken in the summer season. Sometimes we take them 
with the spoon trolling, but as they are a bottom feedihg 
fish, they are more generally taken with minnow or piece 
of fish still fishing. 
I have taken a number with the fly; it must be gaudy, 
larger than a bass fly and shotted with a buckshot put on as 
near the head of the fly as possible. As soon as the lake 
freezes over the slaughter of these fish begins right on the 
grounds selected for spawning. They are taken through 
the ice by the thousands, and the slaughter continues until 
the ice is gone; by this time the breeding season is over, 
and what were not taken by the- hook have departed to 
other waters and resumed their roving habits. Live bait 
only will answer for winter fishing. Some of these fish at¬ 
tain a very large size; the largest I ever caught weighed 
fourteen pounds, but 1 have seen them weighing twenty- 
two pounds. I once found a dead one on the shore that 
was a monster, he must have weighed thirty-five or forty 
pounds. As a trophy I dissected out the lower jaw and 
have it now in my cabinet. It is over eight inches long 
and spreads at the angle nearly seven inches. The teeth 
are terrible, quite an inch long, and as sharp as needles. 
Haturalists and anglers examine this specimen with great 
interest; will try and keep it until you visit Lake Pepin. 
D. C. Estes, M. D. 
Lake City, February 28, 1874. 
—The trustees of the Museum of Fine Arts of Boston 
have accepted an offer of the Due de Montpensier to lend 
fifty-five pictures, valued at $500,000, to the Museum for 
one year, from the 1st of May, 1874, to the 1st of May, 
1875. Among them are five of Zurbarrus’ master works, a 
Murillo valued at $100,000, which has never been out of 
Seville excepting for eight years, during which it was in 
the Spanish gallery of King Louis Phillipe at the Louvre; 
a Holy Family, by Sebastian del Piombo; two pictures by 
Velasquez, and other superb examples by such great Span¬ 
ish artists as Herrara, Juan Valdes Leal, Ribalti and Mo¬ 
rales. 
