50 
FOREST AND STREAM 
thunder, invisible but for the fiery shower they raised upon 
leaving the water. 
It was midnight before we reached Harvey’s and an¬ 
chored. It is six miles across to Salt Lake. There is a 
settlement a mile from the river, where also is a small 
boarding house. There is but one building at the landing, 
a store. Here for the first time the visitor from the North 
sees the palmetto, in the long columnar rows, so charac¬ 
teristic of Indian river. Two days we passed here and at 
Titusville, two miles below, awaiting a fair wind. The 
hotel at the latter place is the only one on the river, and is 
said to be well kept; $8 per day is charged for transient 
boarders. Board at the settlement is $1,50 per day. This 
is the northernmost of the four post offices on the river. A 
mail is supposed-to arrive and depart once a week, but it 
really arrives and leaves with the wind. Yery fine speci¬ 
mens of native woods may be procured here, such as the 
crabwood, royal palm, mangrove, palmetto and iron wood,, 
made into canes, etc. 
Titusville owes all of its present prosperity to the inde¬ 
fatigable energy of its proprietor, Col. IT. T. Titus. This 
place is only noteworthy as a point of arrival and departure 
for more interesting points on the river. For ducks one 
must go across the river to Dummitt’s, ten miles, of to 
Banana creek, still further. For deer, to Merritt’s Island, 
or to the prairies bordering Salt or South lakes. Boatmen 
and guides can be hired to any point on the lagoon and in¬ 
terior. James Stewart, captain of the “Blonde,” is per¬ 
fectly trustworthy and reliable. Jim Russell is thoroughly 
posted upon the game and fish of Indian river, and will be 
found of great value to any party contemplating a winter’s 
camp here, Address them at Sand Point, which is the old 
name for Titusville. 
I visited some old acquaintances here, and walked over 
to the store of a man named Joyners. I was much sur¬ 
prised to find him apparently overjoyed to meet me, the 
more so as we had met but once. My heart warmed as he 
poured forth Congratulation and welcome,, and I thought 
here w T as one true friend, if he did have a suspicious squint 
in one eye and never once looked me square in the face. 
What was my disgust to find, upon returning to the boat, 
that he had despatched a “justice” to arrest me for an al¬ 
leged violation of the license law, in giving a man whom I 
had hired an old coat. A friend told the “justice” he 
thought he’d better not trouble me, and the justice depart¬ 
ed, saying he “thought so too.” 
We left Titusville at daybreak one morning. The wind 
gradually increased till at noon it was blowing half a gale, 
and we were, very glad to seek shelter behind “Oleander 
Point,” about twenty-five miles from Sand Point. A gale 
is the specialty in which Indian river excels; either a gale 
or a calm. But then this is a stormy winter, though ’tis 
hard to realize it with the thermometer at shirt-sleeve tem¬ 
perature. Oleander Point is formed of disintegrated shells, 
white as snow, the beach ending in a crescent-shaped bar. 
South of this beach is a coquina formation, extending for 
miles, where the rocks are worn into every shape imagi¬ 
nable. A Mr. Hardee lives here, whose grove of three- 
year-old trees is the finest I have seen. He has splendid 
oranges from trees only three years from the bud. His 
crop brought a dollar per hundred more in Savannah than 
the St. Johns oranges. 
We slept upon the beach that night beneath a lean-to 
tent which my friend, who is an old camper out, had put 
up between two palmettos. The cheerful blaze in front 
made it far preferable to our close quarters aboard the boat. 
The next afternoon, the' wind abating, we set sail, and at 
night, the wind increasing, made a camp on the shores of 
Horse Creek. This is a high coquina bluff of pine land, 
a fine place for camp or residence. Nearly opposite is the 
southern end of Merritt’s Island, whose high, pine-covered 
shores have . been in sight for the last twenty five miles. 
Just south of here, three miles, is Elbow creek, which was 
to be the terminus of a canal to connect Indian river with 
Lake Washington, on the St. Johns. The scheme is now 
“busted,” and Indian river will have to seek connection 
with the outside w r orld elsewhere. At Turkey creek, fif¬ 
teen miles south, is a fine orange ancl banana grove, where 
huge bunches of the latter fruit can be purchased at $1 
per hundred. St. Sebastian is twelve miles from Turkey 
creek. It is a beautiful sheet of water, and the camper 
out will find here secure shelter during gales. From Horse 
creek we were assisted by that veteran guide and boatman, 
Jim Russell. What Jim don’t know about Indian river is 
not worth knowing. He has spent twenty years here and 
can tell to a certainty just where and when the rarest birds 
are to be found, where to go for deer, bear or panther. 
Jim, then, took us in charge, and kept us through the Nar¬ 
rows, with a dim vision of Pelican Island north of the en¬ 
trance; by Indian river inlet, old Fort Capron, and anchored 
us at two o’clock one morning just as the moon sank out of 
sight, at Fort Pierce. Here we made our final camp, one 
hundred and thirty miles south of our starting point at v 
New Smyrna. 
Fort Pierce is the name given to this place during the 
Indian war, when there was a military station here. Here 
it was, according to history, that the famous chieftain, 
Wild Cat, or Coacoochee, was captured and sent west. 
The old parade ground made over thirty years ago is still 
in good condition, south of the present site of Fort Pierce, 
or “St. Lucie.” The best turtling and oyster grounds are 
here, and splendid fishing at the inlet, three miles east. 
There is a party of gentlemen camped just north of here. 
They are enthusiastic sportsmen, and have been fishing 
Jupiter Inlet and Indian river inlet with flies. Their suc¬ 
cess was wonderful. They tell me that they caught cre- 
vale, bonefish and bluefish, the bonefish and crcvale mak¬ 
ing hard fight and splendid sport. They had late—late for 
this country—copies of Forest and Stream. Of course 
their encomiums were lavish of its merits. And let me say, 
in passing, that I have not met with a single sportsman 
carrying a fine breech loading rifle or split bamboo, who 
lias not a copy of Forest and Stream, and is ever ready 
to advocate its superiority over all others; they caunot 
speak of it without praise. 
I have pliotograped the most noteworthy and picturesque 
features of Indian river and Mosquito lagoon, and the neg 
atives are carefully preserved for future manipulation. 
Within the week that has elapsed since my arrival, I have 
thoroughly explored the country between the river and the 
cypress bordering Lake Okeechobee, walking and riding 
one hundred miles in four days over, or rather through, a 
submerged tract of country, visiting my old friends the In¬ 
dians, and discovering new T facts. In closing I will recapi¬ 
tulate the different camping grounds and haunts of game, 
promising a better list in some future number. 
For fish, go to New Smyrna, Indian river inlet or Jupiter. 
For duck, Mosquito lagoon and Hillsboro’, at the places 
already mentioned, the marshes between Black Point and 
the canal, at Dummitt’s, Pelican Island, near the Narrows, 
and St. Lucie sound. Ten-mile creek, ten miles back of 
Fort Pierce, also abounds in teal and nood'duck. For deer 
and bear, “TurnbuH’s hammock,” near New Smyrna; Mer¬ 
ritt’s Island, and the beach ridge, three miles from the 
southern end; the Narrows; St. John’s prairie, five miles 
west of Capron and beyond. For turkey, St. John’s prairie 
and about St. Lucie sound. 
There are good camping sites at Indian river canal, Jones’ 
Point, Addison Point, Horse Creek, Turkey Creek, Mer¬ 
ritt’s Island, south end; St. Sebastian, Barker’s Bluff, Fort 
Capron, Fort Pierce, and at various points along St. Lucie 
sound. Water may be procured almost anywhere by dig¬ 
ging a shallow pit in the sand. For other information upon 
Indian river I refer the reader to my article in a November 
number. A parly of four could enjoy the pleasures of 
sporting here to best advantage. Let them come as I have, 
with everything necessary for the winter, prepared to 
“rough it,” if need be, and my word for it they will de¬ 
part with a desire to come again. A friend of mine pur¬ 
poses erecting a commodious hotel near St. Lucie, where 
everything needful to the perfect enjoyment of this region 
of game and health will be at command. 
The guides to Indian river are few, but I can recommend 
James Stewart, Charles Stewart, John Houston, Rufus 
Stewart, and Burton Williams. There are yet two months 
in which the balmy breezes of Indian river blow soft and 
pleasant. Perhaps some of the readers of Forest and 
Stream may avail themselves of the information I have 
gathered for theii benefit. Should it reach them too late 
to be of any use, they must remember that the mail here 
comes and goes at the option of the “clerk of (lie weather,” 
and that he not always purposes to blow fair. 
NATURAL HISTORY. 
It is a fact beyond doubt that the whooping crane (grus 
Americanus) is a resident of Florida. There has been seen 
for many years, upon “Alligator Flats,” aboutjtwenty miles 
from Fort Capron, Indian river, a large white bird, “as tall 
as a man,” which the native Floridians called a “stork.” 
Last year the young of this bird was taken from a nest and 
brought to Fort Capron, where it was kept till over six 
months old. The plumage of this bird was white from the 
first. It-was a whooping crane, if the description of its 
possessors was correct, as it agreed exactly in specific char¬ 
acteristics with the description of the whooping crane. 
For many years these birds have roamed over the Alligator 
flats and about the prairies of the headwaters of the St. 
Johns. Their large size and loud cry have always made 
them conspicuous, and the “cow hunters” of the back- 
woods, not knowing any other bird so large have given 
them the name of “stork.” The sand-hill crane is very 
plentiful here, and there is no cause for the belief that the 
two species are confounded. The great white heron, the 
Audubonia occidentalism is the only other bird approaching 
the whooping crane in size, and likely to be mistaken by 
ignorant people for it, and the supposition that it may be 
this species is precluded by the habits and habitat of that 
bird. We think this the first recorded instance of the dis¬ 
covery of this species in Florida, though we may be mis¬ 
taken. 
The Everglade kite {rostrhamus sociabilis) has been shot 
upon the St. Johns prairies by your correspondent, and he 
believes that he will find the eggs of that bird this season. 
The specimens procured were in the adult and young 
plumage. 
Authentic information of the discovery of the eggs of the 
paroquet (conurus caroUnenm) has been obtained, and it is 
confidently expected that they will be secured the coming 
season. Fred. Beverly. 
—-< 4 *^- 
—“If I had a mince pie, and should give two-twelftlis to 
Harry, two-twelfths to John, two twelfths to Isaac and 
should keep half the pie myself, what would be left?” 
There was a profound study among the scholars, but finally 
one lad held up his hand as a signal that he was ready to 
answer. “Well, sir, what would there be left? Speak up 
so loud that all can hear,” said the committeeman. “The 
plate !” shouted the hopeful youth. 
i ^ 
—Smith and Brown had been rowing on the Hudson. 
Relating their adventures, Smith said that while on shore 
taking a quiet glass of lager Brown remained in the boat 
and lay on his oars. “Poor Brown,” remarked a lady, 
“what a hard bed he had.” “Not so,” replied Jones, “he 
‘feathered’ his oars.” 
tor Forest and Stream 
A WINTER CAMP ON THE MAGAT 
LOWAY. 
I T was at Island Pond, on the Grand Trunk Railroad 
that N. and I struck off from the confines of civili za ’ 
tion en route for the head waters of the Connecticut River 
to hunt moose in winter. We had never explored tiffs 
region and had only a vague idea of the locality in which to 
find our game, intending to cross from the lakes that feed 
the Connecticut to the Magalloway and trusting to chance 
to obtain a guide from among the hunters or settlers there¬ 
abouts. With our Indian snow shoes and a blanket, wo 
were prepared to enter the woods, taking only such provi- 
sions and clothing as could be carried in a pack, a hatchet 
in the waist belt, a pistol and rifle. The common racketts 
used by the natives are not to be compared with Indian 
snow shoes, w T hich are woven with fine strings of carribon 
or moose hide. Carribon strings are best, as they shrink 
and become tightened by wetting while moose hide loosens 
We were assured that we should find a cabin used by 
hunters on the shore of First Lake, one of the two in which 
the Connecticut takes_ its rise. Our guide -was a certain 
Bill Lewis, wdiom we found at his log cabin, and who was 
induced to go with us for a money consideration and a share 
of our provisions. About noon we started into the woods 
for the camp with no misgivings about reaching it before 
dark, as the road we were to follow had'been “blazed.” 
Four miles we sped along without snow shoes on a firm 
crust. The afternoon was waning, dusk coining on, but 
still no signs of the camp; and stranger y^et, the blazes were 
so indistinct that it required very close inspection to find 
them. In fact we had not gone far before all traces of a 
road ware gone. Still no camp, and the sky overcast with 
rain ! Yes, -we were lost, that was sure, when we could 
find no more blazed trees. As darkness approached, it was 
a question of a few minutes either to find the cabin or to 
sleep where w T e were in the snow. None but a hunter’s ex¬ 
pedients "were of use. So w r e looked about for sleeping 
quarters; the rain made it useless to attempt to build a fire, 
but shelter at least must be had. No friendly-pine tree 
spread its sheltering arms for us, but a huge tree trunk, 
fallen and heaped with snow, under which it was possible 
to dig a hole and burrow after the manner of liybernating 
bears, was the only lodging that offered. So thus we 
snatched a few hours of sleep. I shall never complain of a 
hard bed again if it he under a roof and dry. 
The dog contributed some warmth, but of a shivery, 
moist, doggy nature. 
With the morning light we set off again, not much re¬ 
freshed by our night’s lodging in the snow; and not relying 
on blazed trees, we soon reached First Lake, 'where we 
built a fire and dried our clothing. Though somewhat dis¬ 
couraged by the follies of a night, we were bound to find a 
moose. Our guide exerted himself. The ice was several 
feet in thickness, but he cut a hole and caught some trout, 
which were soon done brown and served on spruce chips, 
and garnished with frizzled bacon. A flock of snowbirds or 
crossbills of brilliant hue twittered about our camp, regard¬ 
ing us perhaps as a second edition of the “Babes in the 
Wood.” On our way from First and Second Lakes to the 
Magalloway we met two moose hunters, natives, going out 
to the clearing after a successful hunt. They had killed a 
moose and left the meat covered with snow, which infor¬ 
mation was encouraging. Bill Lewis was a poor guide, as 
we had already discovered, but he proved to be a worse 
hunter; in fact we preferred that he should tend camp while 
we hunted. 
Stalking the moose is uncertain business, and requires all 
one’s patience and skill to be successful. Many a moose 
we tracked through the snow for miles only to hear the 
animal break away amongst the spruces when within half 
shooting distance. These cunning animals often make a 
circle and approach their own back track, where they await 
the hunter’s appearance in safety. 
Our snow shoes were bound with flannel on the wooden 
frames to muffle the sound. Signs of moose are found on 
the trees and shrubs where they browse, or where the bark 
is worn off by the rubbing of the antlers while in the 
velvet. Their tracks in snow can be detected even after 
they have been filled up with fresh snow, and when care¬ 
fully cleared out with the hand the hunter feels the direc¬ 
tion in which the game was moving by the shape of the 
holes made by their cloven feet. When near the game, 
only whispers or signs are used, and each footstep must be 
carefully considered. The moose may be behind the neai- 
est snow covered spruce, or lying under a thick pine. 1 
not wounded when he starts, he will plunge away and soon 
put miles between you. The Indians rarely abandon the 
chase, although it may take several days to run down a 
moose. We found tracks plenty, but soon discovered tha 
other hunters had been after them. The next day we too 
a course towards Camel’s Hump Mountain, near the Maga 
loway, where we built a good brush camp, and after a hai 
chase killed a young bull moose. N. was off alone the nex 
day, but I decided to rest in camp. During the day I V1 ® ! ^ 
ed a small pond with an outlet near the river, and. caug 1 
some brook trout through the ice, using pork for bait. ' 
were now well supplied with provisions; moose meat an 
trout were a welcome change after a diet of bacon, ani 
biscuit. 
We followed down the Magalloway stream on the m 
until we came to Parmacliene Lake, where we weredehg 
ed to meet some lumbermen fishing on the lake, which 
crossed, and arrived at the lumber camp before dark, w e 
a bountiful supply 7, of bread, hot biscuit, baked beans a 
