' July 6, 1895.] 



worked up before. He would bark, growl and tug 

 at his chain as though his very life depended on it. "When 

 in the height of one of these spasms the chain suddenly 

 snapped and away went Rake before we could stop him. 

 He took a bee line for the orange grove. We couldn't 

 understand what made him act in such a manner when 

 suddenly, horror of horrors! there was the bloodthirsty 

 monster Gulliver standing in the grove and Rake was 

 rushing to sure and sudden death. For hadn't Emmet 

 kindly advised us more than once "to put a double fasten- 

 ing on Rake, as he would be sorry have him to get away 

 some time while Gulliver was around. He was such a 

 pretty dog it would be a pity to have him die, as Gulliver 

 would kill him so quick he wouldn't have time to repent.' 



I guess Rake must have taken him unawares, as that is 

 the way Emmet explained it that night, anyhow, when he 

 came over to the camp without Gulliver. 



When we got there we more than had our hands full 

 extricating Gulliver's hind leg from Rake's mouth. When 

 we did finally succeed he put for the house on three legs 

 as fast as he could "scratch gravel." Although he was a 

 big brute, his voice was way out of proportion to his size. 

 He never came near our camp after that the whole time 

 we stayed there, with or without Emmet. We even got 

 reckless, and whenever we came across him afterward 

 we wouldn't tree. 



As for Rake, he rose high in our estimation after 

 that. He was the hero of the camp. Nothing was too 

 good for him. No matter if he was eccentric and had 

 a way of deliberately rolling overboard while we were 

 under way, he being chained to the foot of the mast, 

 thus allowing himself to be towed through the water by 

 the neck while lying on his back with all four feet 

 doubled up on his breast and his tail streaming out behind 

 like a comet. He generally made it a point to go through 

 this performance about four times a day, when there was 

 a good sailing breeze; not so often when the breeze was 

 indifferent — as there wasn't as much excitement in doing 

 so then, it didn't make so much trouble to fish him out. 



Rake just enjoyed such occasions, as he would show 

 when pulled on deck, by trying to tangle his chain 

 around his rescuer's legs, in his wild cavortings and 

 gambolings of joy, and pitching him head first overboard, 

 which he succeeded in doing to perfection on two or 

 three occasions, both to Tom and myself. 



One day while camped at Buffalo Bluff we witnessed a 

 serious phenomenon. It was a warm, bright afternoon, 

 without the least indication of rain, when suddenly a 

 small cloud appeared in the south, directly over the river. 

 As it gradually drew nearer and nearer, we noticed that it 

 seemed to follow every crook and turn of the river, also 

 that it was accompanied by a heavy downpour of rain. 

 Finally it passed the camp, and while there was a per- 

 fect deluge on the water, not half a dozen drops fell on 

 the shore that we could see. All this time the sun shone 

 on the camp as though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. 

 What appeared stranger, there was only a slight breeze 

 on shore, while the cloud traveled at great speed. 

 It wasn't over twenty minutes from the time we first 

 observed it until it had passed by and beyond us, around 

 the sharp bend north of camp, and out of sight. 



This was the only rain we had the whole time we were 

 encamped in this delightful place. Every day was as 

 bright and pure as possible, being just warm enough 

 through the day to make it comfortable lying in the 

 shade, or sailing on the river. The evenings were just 

 cool enough to make it enjoyable sitting around a good 

 camp-fire. The owls would gather in the near-by 

 hammocks and hoot and jabber away to each other 

 like a lot of mixed politicians at a hot caucus. Or there 

 would be sudden grunts or groanings, followed by 

 splashes in the river, flowing darkly and silently within a 

 few feet of the tent. Then some one of the many river 

 steamboats would pass up or down, her lights glowing 

 and twinkling in the darkness like some huge fiery 

 monster just out of the infernal regions. As the sides of 

 some of these boats, between the upper and lower decks, 

 are completely open, this effect would be heightened 

 when the doors of her huge furnaces would be thrown 

 open, and the crew of darkies would begin to pile in 

 heavy sticks of cord wood. Then the heavy flood of 

 light issuing from the mouths of these furnaces would 

 disclose the whole interior, the red glow upon the dark, 

 red-shirted crew giving the appearance to a person with 

 a vivid imagination of a crew of fiends engaged in some 

 devilish midnight revel. 



It seems queer, when I look back on those days, that 

 the possibility of some lurking reptile or other animal 

 crawling and secreting itself in our bedding during the 

 day never seemed to enter our heads, although the place 

 was overrun with rattle snakes and moccasins. With the 

 exception of a blacksnake, which Sam caught one day 

 while Tom and I were away from the camp, and which 

 bit him on the hand in the operation, the only creature 

 we ever saw in the tent was the cheerful and companion- 

 able little green "chameleon," which was so tame and 

 cute as to make our camp all the more cheerful and en- 

 joyable. 



We would often sit inside during the day with a news- 

 paper spread in our lap and catch flies and put them on the 

 paper, when presently one of these little fellows would 

 make his appearance from some secret nook or corner, 

 and crawling up on the paper would stop just before a 

 dead fly, turn its solemn little head to one side and look 

 up into our faces with its small, cute, sharp eyes, as much 

 as to say, "Mister, if that fly is of no use to you, and you 

 don't object, with your kind permission, I would like to 

 dispose of it myself." Then making a sudden dive, it 

 would swallow the fly in a twinkling, then look up in the 

 most solemn, comical manner, as much as to say, "How 

 is that for high?" 



We led this free, careless life for three weeks, then Sam 

 accepted an offer of Mr. McGraw to stay with him. So 

 one morning Tom and I regretfully pulled down our tent 

 for the last time in Florida. We slept on the boat alto- 

 gether afterward. After storing everything aboard and 

 bidding our new friends a regretful farewell, Sam espe- 

 cially, who looked rather wistfully after us, we made sail, 

 and in half an hour's time had seen the last of what was 

 the brightest and happiest three weeks I ever spent under 

 canvas. But though the reality is a thing of the past, 

 fond memory will treasure and keep it fresh and green as 

 long as life and memory last. 



There was but little wind ; when darkness came we had 

 made only eight or ten miles. Running up close to the 

 shore so as to be out of the way of passing steamers, we 

 anchored for the night. 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



We felt so lonesome that evening while eating our 

 supper that we were half inclined to turn back to Buffalo 

 Bluff again. After making up our beds, however, and 

 hanging the lantern in the cabin, it looked so cheerful 

 and homelike that the feeling partly wore off. 



We had left our trunk in Sam's charge at McGraw'a, 

 and with that and Sam's valise gone we had ample room 

 to live aboard. We would have fared badly if we had 

 had to depend on the tent for shelter, as we met with 

 very few places on which to pitch a tent from Buffalo 

 Bluff to Sanford. 



We were under way the next morning by 8 o'clock, 

 and about 10 we sighted Lake George. There was very 

 little wind, so it was fairly noon before we entered the 

 lake. This lake reminded us of the ocean, for we were 

 unable to see across. 



About 1 o'clock we sighted what we presumed was the 

 south shore, but on getting closer we were greatly sur- 

 prised to find that what we had taken for land was a 

 huge flock of ducks. There were thousands upon thou- 

 sands of them, and when we got near they arose like a 

 huge black cloud, fairly darkening the southern horizon. 

 The roar of their wings sounded like a heavy gale of 

 wind. They left the surface of the water covered with 

 feathers. 



Just before reaching the lighthouse, which stands on a 

 framework of spiles near the southern entrance of the 

 river to the lake, a sudden puff of wind nearly capsized 

 us. We managed to pull through by a small margin, 

 however. 



When we entered the river again we were confronted 

 with a puzzle by coming to another stream which 

 branched off to the right. As it was a larger stream than 

 the one we were on we didn't know which one to take. 

 We finally decided, however, to keep to the right, so we 

 entered the larger stream. We didn't sail a great way 

 before we began to doubt whether we were right or not. 

 As it was nearly sunset we decided to anchor for the 

 night. Before turning in we had our doubts set at rest 

 by hearing a steamboat pass down the other stream. 



The next day dawned with scarcely no wind at all; and 

 as the current of the river grew stronger and stronger 

 the further south we advanced, and at the same time the 

 river became more crooked and narrower, we made very 

 poor headway. Sometimes we had to resort to sculling, 

 which was very hard and unpleasant work in the hot 

 sun. After sculling a mile or so beyond Astor, we an- 

 chored close to a small island in the middle of the river 

 so as to be out of the way of the traffic. 



The next morning while we were eating breakfast we 

 were startled by hearing quite a commotion and racket in 

 the swamp, which sounded like a couple of cats fighting, 

 only the noise was about ten times as loud. These cata- 

 waulings would be followed by the crackling of vines and 

 and branches, and splashes and flounderings in the waters 

 of the swamp. Tom took the oar and I the gun. Work- 

 ing the boat cautiously in the direction from which the 

 sounds proceeded, we had almost reached the shore when 

 we were considerably startled and sur prised to see a large, 

 lithe, tawny body drop out of one of the trees that lined 

 the river's edge into the water. We quickly saw that this 

 animal was a panther. How it came to fall in the river 

 I don't know; but there it was right in front of us and not 

 over 10yds. away, exerting itself to its utmost to reach 

 the shore. I brought the gun to my shoulder pretty 

 quickly and gave him a charge of buckshot in the head. 

 He disappeared under water, only to reappear soon after, 

 but further out in the river. He acted as though he was 

 stunned. 



By this time Tom had got his gun, and at the word 

 we both fired; he showed us such an ugly wicked set of 

 snapping teeth that we were perfectly satisfied to be no 

 nearer to him. The water was quite bloody where he 

 disappeared. We tried to feel him with the oar, but the 

 water was so deep we couldn't touch the bottom, so we 

 never saw him again. 



After the panther excitement was over Tom thought he 

 would take advantage of this chance to give Rake a run, 

 as he had been cramped up on the boat ever since we left 

 Buffalo Bluff. Loosing the dog we sat down on the cabin 

 top and watched him floundering around in the swanp for 

 awhile. There was no wind, so we were in no hurry. 

 Forgetting all about the dog, we entered into conversation 

 about the panther. When we finally did think of him, he 

 had disappeared entirely. We called , whistled, and shouted 

 at the top of our lung's for fully an hour, but to no purpose. 

 Then we sculled the boat up and down the shore for a 

 mile or more; still no dog. 



Finally it was decided to return to the spot where we 

 had turned him loose, and wait until afternoon; then if he 

 didn't make his appearance, to proceed without him. 

 . When afternoon came, however, he was still missing. 

 We hated to leave without making one more effort to find 

 him, so it was decided that one had better stay by the 

 boat, while the other went into the swamp to see if some 

 trace that would lead to his whereabouts could be found. 

 We drew lots to see who would do the exploring, and it 

 fell to me. 



I must confess that I didn't relish the prospect much, 

 and when I started I vowed to myself that I would make 

 the trip a short one. The panther adventure of the 

 morning was too green in memory to make it enjoyable 

 roaming around in that dismal, dreary swamp. I took my 

 gun and a dozen cartridges loaded with buckshot, and 

 I took a small but excellent pocket compass. 



The experience of that afternoon will satisfy me for a 

 lifetime. It required more than two hours to get through 

 the swamp from the river to the dry forest land. It was 

 dark and gloomy in there. The huge cypress trees rose 

 high overhead, their giant branches heavily draped with 

 the crape-like Spanish moss, which produces an effect of 

 gloom so deep that to be realized it must be seen. 



The trunks of these trees rose out of damp, reeking, 

 miasma-polluted ground, littered with the decaying 

 trunks of fallen giants, which were overgrown with green 

 briers and other vines in such profusion as to make it 

 almost impossible to get through them in some places. 

 In other places there were dark silent pools of stagnant 

 water, the bottom of which could not be seen. Part of the 

 time I would be wading through these treacherous'pools 

 up to my waist, not knowing what moment I might 

 tread on a moccasin or some stray alligator. At other 

 times the undergrowth and dead soaking fallen timber 

 were so thick that I would almost have to go on my hands 

 and knees to force a passage through them. When I did 

 finally reach the dry forest land, I was a sight. I was 

 soaked and covered wtih mud and scratches from head 



s 



to foot. Looking to the south, I spied a cluster of small 

 log houses, I walked to these houses, and after knocking 

 on the doors of two or three of them, and receiving no 

 answer, I concluded that no one lived there, and was 

 about turning away when a young darky appeared at the 

 door of one of the cabins. 



I told him about losing the dog, and asked if he had 

 seen him. He answered "No." I then told him that if 

 he would find him and bring him to us we would give 

 him $5. This offer made a very expansive grin over- 

 spread his face, and he said, "I reckon dat I'll start huntin' 

 for dat ar dorg right orf," and he suited the action to the 

 word. 



I thought it would be as well to start for the river, if I 

 intended to reach there before dark. It was the same old 

 story going back. If anything it was worse, as the after- 

 noon was so far advanced that the sun was nearing the 

 end of his day's journey when I entered the swamp again. 

 The darkness and gloom under these conditions was 

 greater than ever. It was considerable after sunset when 

 I reached the river. I had to fire the gun half a dozen 

 times before I received an answer from Tom. I had 

 struck the river so much farther to the north than I had 

 left it that it took Tom quite a while to scull the boat to 

 where I was. When it finally appeared to view it is no 

 exaggeration to say that the sight was a most welcome 

 one. By the time I changed my clothes and supper was 

 ready it was pitch dark. 



It was a very gloomy supper we sat down to that night 

 and neither of us cared to talk much. We had no idea of 

 the hold a dumb animal could gain on the affections until 

 we lost that dog. We had both wished him inside an alli- 

 gator on a number of occasions during the trip, but now, 

 when he had actually gone, we found the hold he really 

 had on us, without knowing it almost. 



We had almost finished our meal in silence when there 

 was a sudden splashing and floundering in the swamp, 

 and before we dared hardly to hope, a deep, sudden bark 

 awoke the vault-like echoes of the swamp, followed by 

 more rushing back and forth along the edge of the river. 



We got the anchor up quicker than we ever did before, 

 and the old oar was doing good execution before the an- 

 chor reached the deck. Before we had made half the 

 distance to the shore the dog plunged into the river and 

 was on his way to meet us. When we pulled him aboard, 

 he was the most tickled canine I ever saw, fairly boiling 

 over with joyful exuberance. We found a piece of rope 

 around his neck, which some one had tied there hoping 

 by this means to keep him, I suppose. This, however, is 

 where they made a monumental mistake, as Rake knew 

 how to gnaw a rope in half — as Tom had discovered to 

 his disgust on several occasions. However, the knowledge 

 stood him in good stead this time. 



Next morning while breakfast preparations were under 

 way we baited one of the large shark hooks and dropped 

 it over the stern. In about ten minutes the boat began to 

 sag sideways through the water. Tom grasped the line, 

 which was ^in. in thickness, and began to haul in. The 

 line cut his hands so that I had to assist him. We thought 

 we must have hooked an alligator by the way we had to 

 pull , but we soon had a river catfish flopping on the stern of 

 the Rambler. It weighed, as near as we could judge, in 

 the neighborhood of 50lb.9. 



We had to kill it with the exe. It seemed as though it 

 was his last ambition to pound the very deck in. This 

 was the only fish of the kind we caught on the trip. But 

 by the way he pulled when we hauled him aboard we con- 

 cluded that it was his kind that had broken so many of 

 our hooks and lines. 



For the next three or four days it was one continual 

 drudge with the oar, through a river that was so crooked 

 and disagreeable that it seemed impossible to duplicate it. 

 The banks were nothing but damp, reeking, malaria- - 

 infested swamps, with an insignificant dry spot here and 

 there, on which would be perched a few log cabins. 

 These places generally sported names bigger than them- 

 selves. Just before entering Lake Dexter we came to one 

 of these dry places, on which there was a log cabin. We 

 stopped here to make some inquiries, and found that this 

 was a mossers' camp. There were six men here, who 

 were engaged in collecting the gray Spanish moss. The 

 moss is buried under the ground for a certain length of 

 time, when the gray outside skin drops off, leaving 

 the inside fiber, which resembles horse hair. It is then 

 cleaned and shipped North, where it is used in upholster- 

 ing establishments for stuffing lounges, chairs and other 

 furniture. At that time mossers made very good money. 

 We met with quite a number of persons engaged in this 

 business while we were on the St. John's, the majority of 

 whom were West Indians. 



In places the river was literally covered with water let- 

 tuce, making it the hardest kind of work to force a passage 

 through with the use of the oar. This lettuce, or cabbage, 

 as it is sometimes called, is so thick in places as to cause 

 the stoppage of steamboats by clogging the paddlewheels 

 so that they can not turn. W T e were always sure to find 

 plenty of ducks in this lettuce, however, and as they were 

 not very wild we would shoot them whenever we felt 

 duck hungry. We made it a rule never to kill game of 

 any kind unless we intended to eat it. We couldn't see 

 any sport in the practice indulged in by some so-called 

 sportsmen of killing for killing's sake that which had no 

 power to defend itself. I remember quite well, one day 

 as we were making our way laboriously against the cur- 

 rent with the oar, we counted twenty-three squirrels in 

 one large cypress tree on the shore, and then stopped 

 counting. These squirrels are not as large as the Northern 

 gray, but larger than the red squirrel. 



The day we entered Lake Dexter we had a hard time 

 finding where the river entered the lake on the opposite 

 side. We sailed and sculled around the lake two or three 

 times, keeping a sharp lookout all the while, but could 

 find no river. The lettuce formed one unbroken line, ex- 

 tending hundreds of yards out in the lake. But just as 

 the sun disappeared back of the moss-covered cypresses 

 that lined the low damp shores of the lake, we saw a 

 steamboat coming, as it seemed, right through the woods. 



There are a great many islands, some with small trees 

 and underbrush growing thereon, to be met with in the 

 small lakes of the upper St. John's, which look firm and 

 substantial enough, but a person must be very careful and 

 not attempt to land on them without proper investigation 

 beforehand, for they are very apt to prove to be nothing 

 but a lot of floating weeds, brush and other vegetable 

 matter which a person would sink through into the water 

 beneath and so stand a good chance of being drowned. 

 The first time we noticed one of these islands was the 



