194 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Now, this place, in my belief, has a share in the trag¬ 
ical history attending the early settlement of Florida by the 
Spaniards. When Ribaut was wrecked on this coast, and 
fell into the hands of Meneudez in 1565, a part of his force, 
some 200, escaped down the coast. - Soon intelligence came 
to the Spaniards that the French were fortifying themselves 
and building a vessel south of Cape Canaveral. A force 
was despatched, which captured the greater part of the 
French troops, burned their vessel and destroyed their fort. 
The Spaniards then built another fort, which they called 
St. Lucie, and garrisoned it. From many proofs I adduce 
the opinion that this is the site, this bluff or earth mound, 
of that Spanish fort. The road, from sea-beach to river, 
straight and wide, was probably made by the builders of 
the mound many years before the Spanish conquest, but it 
doubtless was in condition then to offer many advantages, 
and not, as now, overgrown with scrub and palmetto. I 
am not aware that the fact of the existence of this old road 
has ever been mentioned before—at least in this connection 
—but, from a careful examination of the ground and a com¬ 
parison of existing proofs with historical description, I am 
convinced that I am correct. Mr. Houston found, some 
years ago, a bolt, evidently a large coupling-bolt, and a 
piece of iron resembling the trunion of a cannon. I am 
convinced'that a series of excavations would reveal further 
proofs of my views. Upon the south end of Merritt’s 
Island, west of the shell bluff just mentioned, lives the 
Crusne of the river.* He has lived there some three or four 
years, cultivating the soil and clearing the scant hammock, 
till he has several acres in a high state of cultivation, with 
abundant crops of squashes and prickly pear. Within a 
year or so this Crusoe has purchased several goats, and lives 
there alone with them and his cat. I went over one day to 
pay him a visit but he was away. His shanty and goats 
were still there, though, and I determined to have a picture 
of them. This shanty was about twenty feet long, five 
high in the middle, and about six feet wide at the base. It 
was made by covering a “Ditch roof” with palmetto leaves, 
and was open at either end. Two boards formed one side 
and end of the bed he slept in, and the side of the shanty 
the other side. There was just room enough to crawl in, 
so filled up was it with old rope, boards, etc. It looked so 
snake-suggestive that none of us entered. There was an 
old broken-legged table, crippled chair, a grind-stone, and 
a smudge-pot outside. . The owner, we afterwards learned, 
was camping out to get rid of the fleas. There are many 
inconveniences attending photographing in Florida, and I 
have had so many amusing and provoking incidents that I 
shall sometime write a chapter of them. I set my compan¬ 
ions to collecting and herding the goats, about fifteen, near 
the shanty, while I set my camera and pitched my develop¬ 
ing tent. When all was ready I looked for my goats and 
saw them not. They soon appeared, however, in hot pur¬ 
suit of my boatman Dan, who just escaped old Billy by 
climbing the fence. We soon got them in position near the 
shanty, with the aid of my friend and the two boatmen, 
and retired to my tent to prepare the negative plate. Upon 
emerging I discovered that the leader of the herd had 
amused himself chasing my friend about the place, causing 
him to sit down in a bed of prickly pear, which hurt his 
feelings very much, and otherwise misbehaving himself. 
After much trouble we got them in order, and I opened the 
slide and congratulated myself upon getting a good picture. 
I hardly counted “two” before a huge old goat, with wide¬ 
spread horns, spied my camera and started on a tour of in¬ 
spection. If he had started leisurely I shouldn’t have cared, 
but he came in a hurry, as though he saw something in my 
direction he desired, and so I concluded to postpone the 
taking of that picture, shouldered my camera and traveled 
among the cacti in a way that brought tears to my eyes and 
tears to the eyes of my friends on the fence. I never did 
love goats; and if that goat had seemed at all open to con¬ 
viction I should have stopped and told him what I thought 
of goats in general, and him in particular. But I didn’t 
stop, but kept right on, leaped the bank and gained the 
boat, just as he struck it with his horns. Then he went 
back and stood peacefully chewing his cud. And I think 
he is still there, for I didn’t go back to alarm him. 
As most of Florida visitors are aware, “Sand Point” is 
the principal place on the river, or lagoon, and about the 
only point the visitor sees—he is so tired and worn by the 
ride there that he goes no further. Nearly every writer 
makes mention of Colonel Titus—“old Titus” he is gen¬ 
erally called—and relates the threadbare story of his life as 
a border ruffian in Kansas. One of his neighbors keeps 
constantly by him a copy of Richardson’s “Beyond the 
Mississippi,” in which is a well-executed engraving, repre¬ 
senting the worthy Colonel as praying for his life, kneeling 
before a band of soldiers. That the Colonel used to “cut 
up rough” is, beyond a doubt, true, as I have seen persons 
who had met him in Arizona and Kansas years ago, when 
he flourished as the green bay tree, and even more so. But 
why repeat the old story when the Colonel is now settled 
at the Point, earnestly at work in the good cause—a cause 
all true southerners are earnest in—of showing the north¬ 
erner how little is here below for liis money. . 
Titusville hotel was closed when I passed it the first week 
in April, and the throng of health-seekers and sportsmen 
who had rendezvoused lliere had departed. It is a strauge 
fact that nearly every visitor to Indian River this winter 
has had some professional title or other either prefixed or 
affixed. I believe I have already spoken of the peculiarities 
-'of the people of the river in the way of titular distinction. 
It is a Colonel, Captain or General all along the river banks. 
But they have succumbed to the overwhelming tide of Drs., 
Profs, and D. Ds., that lias poured in the last winter. 
Nearly every profession under heaven has been represent¬ 
ed, and a great many from other places. As my boatman 
remarked, you “couldn’t do any heavy cussin’ for fear your 
passenger might be a Rev. or Bishop.” I got to be so bad 
that 1 always tied when I saw a party coming, knowing 
well that I had no title—professional or otherwise—which 
might serve to convey that I was versed in some unknown 
science or posted on military matters. But the 4 ‘perfessers” 
and doctors have all gone, leaving Indian Riverites to mourn 
tlieir loss. I don’t know that the people of this section are 
more avaricious than in any other—indeed, I have always 
found the residents generous and hospitable—but the temp¬ 
tation to bleed a man with money is irresistable where 
money is so scarce. Along the St. John’s, at the hotels, it 
is worse than on Indian River. It is just as a Cracker ex¬ 
pressed it one day at St. Lucie. He came to my friend, the 
doctor, with a bottle in his hand containing some unhappy 
bugs he had captured. Says he: 
“Doctor, I reck’n I’ve gut a curosty fer yer.” 
“Ah 1” 
“Yis; when you uns was done gone inter Okeechobee I 
cought these yer animils fer yer. Ye see, I was a cuttin’ 
down a cabbage palmeeter and found these yer into the 
middle on’t; and as I never seed any like ’em I jest put em 
in a bottle, and hev been a feedin’ em’ nigh on two weeks. 
I spose you want ’em, don’t yez?” 
“Well, yes, I’ll take them; how much for them?” 
The bugs were worthless, but the doctor always made a 
point of taking whatever was brought, as sometimes he 
secured something of value. 
“Wall, I don’t know; I reck’n about two dollars a piece!” 
“Do you think that enough, Mr. T. ? 
“Wall, they’se been a heap ur trouble to me an’ I’ve neg¬ 
lected my grubbin’ to feed them thar critters, an’ I rarely 
suppose they’s worth considable more, but I didn’t know 
how much you Yankees would stand!” 
That is the key note rung by the hotel keepers in Florida, 
“how much you Yankees can stand without collapsing.” 
At Smyrna I met Dr. Fox, the guide to the Savannah 
party that sought Lake Okeechobee. As has been.stated, 
they were obliged to return after reaching Lake Kissimmee, 
owing to the illness of one of their number. They found 
an abundance of game in the islands of Lakes. Kissimmee 
and Cypress, and the' woods bordering the river.. From 
the nature of the country bordering the upper Kissimmee, 
I knew that there would be an abundance of game, such as 
quail, turkeys and deer, there being more.“hammocks” and 
less real swamps than upon the lower Kissimmee. In my 
report I have omitted many things that I will at some future 
time give to the public.. , , 
In speaking of game in my report of March 17., I referred, 
more particularly to deer and turkey. If I include the 
various birds and animals generally called game by many, 
gunners, then the Kissimmee is well stocked. At the ford 
were hundreds of white ibis and yellow-legs and curlew, 
while the settlers vouched for several flocks of turkeys in 
the “hammocks.” Deer were comparatively abundant out 
on the prairies, wild cats plentiful, while only a few nights 
before our arrival, a panther had put in an appearance at a 
settler’s cabin, while the man was away, and carried away 
a hog before the eyes of the settler’s wife and children. 
One of the party had a Remington, No. 12 bore, 80 in., 
breech-loader along, which made quick work with what¬ 
ever birds came within range. The execution of this gun 
is remarkable, and we could shoot with equal ease the 
smallest warbler or largest heron or hank. ^Its simplicity 
of construction, plainness and cheapness make it just the 
gun for the collector. This gun with my 9 in. Remington 
revolver was amply sufficient in the way of fire-arms, 
though we had encumbered ourselves with several other 
weapons. 
There will, undoubtedly, be many visitors to the Okee¬ 
chobee and Kissimmee region next winter, and I doubt not 
that the sporting facilities will be thoroughly tested. The 
boat in which I made ray trip I sold to Judge Parker, a re¬ 
sident on the Kissimmee near Fort Bassenger, and any 
party desiring to make the trip could not do better than 
secure control of the staunch “Forest and Stream,” as she 
is a boat well suited to the work. 
Before another season comes round I will provide a list 
of guides and teams available, an accurate description of 
the routes and all information necessary to guide any one 
to the shores of the great lake. Fred. Beverly. 
---- 
For Foresi arid Stream. 
THE MAGOG DISTRICT. 
T HE first breath of spring brings its dreams of past 
pleasures, and as we inhale the warmer air, there 
float up before us visions of limpid lakes and beautiful 
streams, and we seem once more to see the fly falling softly 
on the water, the gleam of silver flashing up from the crys¬ 
tal depths; to feel the sudden strain of the “strike,” and 
hear the singing of the reel. Once more the battle is fought 
and won, and the crimson flecked beauty lies before us on 
the emerald sward. Then we remember that big fellow 
that caused us such a ducking, and are suddenly fired with 
a desire to, once more, revel among scenes, the very thought 
of which is so pleasurable. While the spirit is upon us, 
rods are examined, landing nets and gaffs are fished out of 
their hiding places, lines are tested, and flies and’ casting 
lines carefully counted over. At last comes the question, 
Where shall we go? 
Now, no doubt many of the readers of Forest and 
Stream are already forming their plans for the coming 
season, and perhaps some of them are wondering where to 
go. From the short glimpse I have had of Hallock’s 
“Fishing Tourist,” I should say that it would supply a vast 
fund of information on this subject, as well as on the best 
ways of going, and the expense of a trip. The Forest 
and Stream has indicated many excellent localities for 
fishing; but there is one of which, so far, it has said noth¬ 
ing, and to it I now intend to allude. 
Directly to the north of the States of Vermont and New 
Hampshire, and west of Somerset county, in Maine, there 
lies a tract of country which, although the seat of some of 
the earliest settlements on the continent, is yet compar¬ 
ative unsubdued. The reason for this is doubtless owing 
to the extremely broken contour of the country, for we find 
that where the land is level the country has long been set¬ 
tled. There is no doubt but that the vast water power of 
this district will some day support a large population, but 
at present the most of the streams rush unimpeded over 
their rocky beds and serve as abodes for countless num¬ 
bers of the finny tribes. The principal rivers are the Yam- 
aska, St. Francis, Nicolet, Becancour and Chaudiere, on 
the latter of which are the picturesque falls of the same 
name. The largest lakes are Memphremagog, Massawippi, 
Aylmer, St. Francis and Megantic; but throughout the re¬ 
gion are found numberless smaller lakes, and from the hill¬ 
sides, countless streams gusli down to swell the volume of 
the larger rivers. The scenery is romantic and beautiful 
in the extreme, and the mountain air peculiarly bracing. 
The region is accessible by way of the Grand Trunk rail¬ 
road from Portland. Slierbrook being the most convenient 
point ol departure on this line, by way of the Connecticut 
& Passumpsic River railroad, from Boston, either disem¬ 
barking at Newport or going on to Waterloo, and by Hud¬ 
son River & Lake Champlain to St. John’s, and thence to 
Waterloo. Streamer Lady of the Lake conveys the tourist 
from Newport to Magog; which latter is a good centre of 
operations. There is a fair hotel at Sherbrooke, the Magog 
House; rale $1 50 per day. At Magog there is also a fair 
hotel whose price is about $1. per day, and the same is 
charged at Waterloo for fair accommodation. 
Now a word about the fishing. The tourist may do one 
of three things, he may locate at Waterloo, Magog or Sher¬ 
brooke, and make excursions into the surrounding country- 
he may take up his quarters at some small village or farm 
house, near which there is good fishing, or he may canm 
out, the most enjoyable xvay of all. In the first case a 
horse and buggy may be hired for about $1 50 per dav 
and there are many good streams within a radius of six¬ 
teen miles from Waterloo, though the fish are apt to be 
small. At Coon’s Pond, twelve miles, there is splendid 
trouting. the fish averaging about half a pound. At Lake 
Oxford^ twelve miles, they are taken weighing over three 
pounds; at Brome Lake, six miles, there is excellent bass 
fishing, and some heavy fish are taken, while in the lake at 
the village you may troll for pike with good success. Mr 
E. B. Hodge, or any member of the “Fishing Club ” will 
afford all the information to sportsmen that lies in’ their 
power. From Magog, a drive of about four miles takes you 
to the Lake Oxford above mentioned, and there are several 
small lakes and streams in the vicinity affording good sport 
and vou may angle for lake trout, or “lunge” as they are 
called, in Lake Memphremagog if you have the requisite 
amount of patience. From Sherbrooke,, a drive of about 
fourteen miles takes you to the Brmnpton series of lakes 
where are to be found trout, lake trout and bass, but as 
boats are difficult to procure on these lakes, the tourist had 
better make previous arrangements. Ten miles brings you to 
Lake Massawippi where there are lake trout, and this lake 
can be reached by a drive of five miles from Magog. There 
are also small streams within a few miles where good trout 
fishing may be had, and the proprietors of the hotels here 
as elsewhere, will afford all possible information. 
In the second place I can only say that there are numer¬ 
ous small villages near which excellent fishing may be had 
and though many of them have no hotels, yet the inhabi¬ 
tants are hospitable, and kindly in the extreme and the 
ambition (?) to become the possessor of the traveler’s last 
cent is, as yet, unknown. 
Thirdly, as to camping out, the counties of Wolfe and 
Megantic are wild and unsettled, as also are parts of the 
counties of Compton, Richmond and Shefford, and even 
parts of the town of Sherbrooke, and the tourist would do 
well to arm himself with a rifle as he may have an oppor¬ 
tunity to meet bruin in his native haunts. Of course, only 
in the wilder parts of the above counties is this possible, 
but there are numerous smaller animals, and eagles are 
quite common. The requisite supplies can be procured 
much more cheaply in Canada than here. 
Brompton Lake, and Lake Megantic, Alymer and others 
afford splendid sport as well as many tributaries of 
the Chaudiere. The Waterloo Fishing Club have a 
shanty on an island in Brompton Lake, and are exceed¬ 
ingly" courteous to all sportsmen, and many small lakes 
near their village would well repay a week spent on their 
shores. 
There are also salmon in Salmon River but they will not 
take a fly. 
The most favorable season for trout fishing is during 
May and June, and the latter part of September. During 
the hotter months they are only to be found in the spring- 
holes and deep shady pools; but there are several lakes in 
which they can be caught on any cloudy summer day, 
and during the summer the codl clear air, the fresh invig¬ 
orating breezes and the numberless fragrant and shady 
glens offer attractions not to be found in the cooler months. 
I hope some of the readers of Forest and Stream may 
be induced to explore this delightful bit of country, and 
next season give us more complete information than can at 
present be given by Transit. 
P. S.—There is" a pocket map published, I think, by 
Smith & Co., St. Johns, P. Q., and Roberts of Montreal, that 
would be very useful. The price "is twenty-five or fifty 
cents. T. 
For Forest and Stream. 
THE FISHING MINISTER. 
I HAVE been exceedingly interestedMn looking over a 
stray number of your paper which has fallen accident¬ 
ally into my handstand it has occurred to me that possibly 
a bit of fun, or a good ancedote might occasionally be rel¬ 
ished by you and your readers. That which I have to re¬ 
late has the merit of being strictly true, and though told 
me at first under “the seal of the confessional,” the story 
has got abroad among confreres , and the seal is no longer 
binding. 
Let me say then, that we have among] our sporting fra¬ 
ternity in Vermont a brother who is a clergyman of the 
Episcopal Church. For the sake of a name we will call 
the gentleman Mr. F. and without too minutely particular¬ 
izing locality we will say that he resides not a thousand 
miles from the town of Chester. A town that has probably 
more good trout streams within a radius of twenty miles 
than any other in the State. 
Mr. F. is a gentlemanly, unassuming man, of the most 
genial spirit, an ardent lover of piscatory exercise, and 
who can handle a text as well as he can handle a reel, 
which is saying a good deal. 
One day last summer being somewhat wearied by the 
labors of his study he concluded that he would go out and 
make a few casts upon a stream a short distance from fiis 
window. Arrayed in a pair of high-topped water-proof 
boots, a well worn but serviceable pair of pants, a slioit 
coat with numerous capacious pockets, and broad brimmed 
Panama hat without a band, he seemed anything but the 
neatly attired Parson of the Sunday. The stream was 
much fished, but by the aid of an enticing looking chantry, 
he succeeded in the course of an hour in killing something 
like a dozen fine trout, which he stowed away within the 
well oiled linings of the numberless caverns about hum 
Having satisfied his ambition he stepped out upon the high¬ 
way above him, to put up his tackle. Just then a countiy-' 
man driving along on a spring-board wagon, drew up 
moment and looked with sovereign contempt upon the sligh 
rod which the gentleman was unjointing. 
“Well,” said he, “no luck, eli?” 
“Not much,” replied Mr. F. . 
“You fish with too small and limpsy a pole, and too long 
a line. Jest go down inter the bushes there and cut you 
good alder, and tie on a stout string, not too long, ana 
decent sized hook, and then put on a big hunk of angle, ( 
dogs, (worm) and yu’ll git some fish, if there’s any thar. 
‘‘Persons differ somewhat in their mode of fishing, sa 
Mr. F., “some like a long, stout pole with a stout line, c 
you say; and others prefer a short light pole with a lo g 
line—now, I like a light pole with a long line.” , 
“Fudge! why don’t you fish with a knittin’ needle a ? 
spoole o’ thread? What sort of a trout would that wip y 
pint o’ yourn hold—t’would’nt hold a decent sized shine . 
