March 22, 1888.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



163 



Every person who is sufficiently interested in the National 

 Park to do his share toward seeurina protection for it, is in- 

 vited to send for one of the. Forest and Stream's petition 

 Wanks. They are sent free. 



THE ISLAND OF THE HOLY CROSS. 



ABOUT fifteen hundred miles in a southeasterly 

 direction across the Atlantic, snugly tucked in 

 among the myriad of small islands forming the Eastern, 

 or Windward chain of the West Indies, lies the mountain- 

 ous little island of Santa Cruz, let into the deep blue 

 Caribbean Sea like an emerald on a field of sapphire. It 

 is situated about sixty miles southeast of the large and 

 important island of Porto Rico, is only about thirty miles 

 long by twelve or fourteen miles wide, and is directly in 

 the path of the northeast trade winds, which blow gently 

 over its verdure-clad hills and vales, causing a perpetual 

 waving and rustling of palm and cocoanut brandies, and 

 making the vast fields of sugar-cane appear like undulat- 

 ing green seas in the landscape. 



Of course, being only seventeen degrees north of the 

 equator, the climate of Santa Cruz is ardently tropical, 

 but delicious sea breezes, that never fail by night or day, 

 greatly moderate what would otherwise be almost un- 

 endurable heat, and keep the mercury down to an 

 average of seventy-five or eighty degrees in the shade the 

 year around. Anything like hum idity of the atmosphere, 

 of which we in this country experienced a "genteel suffi- 

 ciency" last summer, is absolutely unknown there, and it 

 is doubtful if the most ancient inhabitant of the island 

 could assert the occurrence of a dozen thunder storms dur- 

 ing the whole period of his existence; in fact, no cloud 

 bigger than the fleecy balls of vapor, called by mariners 

 trade-wind clouds, ever appear in that sky of "blue tran- 

 quillity" during ten out of the twelve months, nor are the 

 lovely shores ever washed by waves more formidable than 

 those of crystalline blue that musically tinkle on the palm- 

 fringed beaches of white coral sand.' The climate is one 

 of the most perfect on earth, and I never see a poor fel- 

 low whose hollow cough and hectic flush betray the sad 

 work of destruction going on within by that dread enemy 

 of mankind, consumption, without heartily wishing him 

 in Santa Cruz. 



But my object in writing you is not to "boom" Santa 

 Cruz as a health resort; I don't run a hotel on the island, 

 nor have I a brother or uncle or friend who does, and, by 

 the way, there are no hotels there; nothing but a. few 

 good, genial-hearted souls, who will take you into their 

 private houses for the pleasure of your company — and $7 

 a week. So, I am not after a free "ad," Mr. Editor, but 

 having been put up to many a serviceable "wrinkle" 

 through the pages of good old Forest and Stream (with- 

 out at least a three years' subscription to which I consider 

 no man's education complete), it becomes ray duty as 

 well as pleasure, to communicate to those fellow readers 

 whom it may concern my discovery, that in this little 

 island, only six days' sail from New York, there exists 

 for the lover of dog and gun a veritable "happy hunting 

 ground." If the place were much easier of access I should 

 hesitate to publish this piece of information broadcast, 

 for the island is so small that it would soon be depleted of 

 its best game by a large influx of sporting visitors, but 

 for the few who are able to make the trip, better shooting • 

 may be had for less trouble and at less expense than can 

 be found in any part of the United States that I have 

 ever heard of. 



Not long ago affairs obliged me, very reluctantly, to 

 visit Santa Cruz, and more from force of habit than any 

 anticipation of having much use for them, I stowed in 

 my trunk a shotgun and rifle, with a plentiful supply of 

 ammunition. The matters which claimed my attention 

 need not have detained me on the island longer than the 

 month of March, but it was the first of June before I suc- 

 ceeded in tearing myself away from the beautiful place, 

 and such a profusion and variety of game as never before 

 fell in my way. Santa Cruz is now. under Danish gov- 

 ernment, but something like one hundred and fifty years 

 ago, when the English held temporary possession, an old 

 colonial Governor of sporting proclivities conceived the 

 idea of introducing an old-world institution in the shape 

 of a deer forest, for the exclusive amusement of himself 

 and his court. To this end he dispatched a schooner to 

 the coast of North America, from whence she returned 

 freighted with a large and lively cargo of Virginia deer 

 (Cervus virginianus) of both sexes and all ages. These 

 vrere turned loose in a well-wooded and watered tract of 

 land to multiply and increase after their kind, but hardly 

 had he begun to enjoy the fruit of his enterprise when 

 this energetic old Governor was gathered to his fathers; 

 and the sport of deer hunting fell into desuetude. Free- 

 dom from molestation, abundance of food and a perfectly 

 congenial climate have caused the deer to multiply to 

 enormous numbers, until at the present time they are 

 more common all over the island than cotton-tails in 

 New Jersey. 



Besides deer there are quail, wild pigeons, several 

 varieties of doves, and, in the winter months, ducks, 

 plover and snipe swarm in the canefields, woods, moun- 

 tains and lagoons. On one occasion, during a ride of 

 fourteen miles, I counted dozens of flocks of quail by the 

 roadside, and no less than seven deer in sight at various 

 periods of the journey: one of the latter a surperb seven- 

 pronged buck, descended the grassy bank into the road 

 not a hundred feet ahead of me, stopped half way across, 

 stared inquisitively, and then leisurely continued his 

 way up the opposite bank, attaining the eminence of 

 which he took another another deliberate look at me and 

 then with a frisky toss of his head and a wiggle of his 

 white tail, trotted into the dense growth of sugar cane. 

 I was entirely unarmed at the time, but had there been 

 a whole arsenal handy I should not have had the heart to 

 violate his friendly confidence by shooting him. 



A favorite resort of mine for deer, where I never 

 failed to get a shot at one, was on the shores of a 

 lagoon which stretches its length of brackish waters 

 along the borders of a pretty plantation owned by my 

 genial friend Mr. Henry Brown, may his shadow never 

 grow less. Here, in the flickering shade of a grove of 

 cocoanut trees, bubbled a large spring, which, in the 

 early mornings, was always puddled by the feet of 

 numbers of deer, while a hundred tracks in the. soft, 

 damp sand led in every direction from it. I often 

 followed these tracks along the sandy shore, some of 



them not more than a minute old, for on a close inspec- 

 tion the water, with which the sand was saturated, could 

 be seen gradually filling up the impressions, as if the 

 animal, hearing my approach, had quietly taken to the 

 woods. Frequently the tracks led straight down into the 

 still, dark waters of the lagoon, the maker of them being 

 sometimes visible on the other side, feeding on the leaves 

 of the mangrove bushes. 



The principal reason for the existence of game in such 

 quantities is immunity, which is due to the deep-rooted 

 aversion which the good people of Santa Cruz have to ex- 

 ercise of any description. Hunting would require more 

 exertion than they are capable of. I would not like to 

 accuse them of constitutional laziness, so I will put it that 

 they tire easily, One gentleman, to be sure, whose 

 acquaintance I had the pleasure of making, enjoyed an 

 enviable reputation as a mighty hunter; in fact, he was 

 generally regarded as the Nimrod of the island, and, like 

 Mr. Winkle, was looked up to as authority on sporting 

 matters of every sort. The friend who introduced, me to 

 "Nimrod," whispered impressively that "he would show 

 me how to kill deer." There were living witnesses to the 

 fact that on one occasion he had actually been known to 

 bring down a deer with a, charge of buckshot — but the 

 deer got away. Of course I was glad to know a man of 

 such distinction, and my happiness was materially in- 

 creased when he promised to take me hunting with him. 

 His vivid delineations of how he was accustomed to "bowl 

 them over" impressed me deeply, and I looked forward 

 with eager anticipation not unmixed with trepidation to 

 the slaughter which I was convinced would ensue upon 

 his taking to the field. After keeping me in suspense a 

 tropical length of time, I Avas notified one evening to be 

 ready to start next morning at 8 o'clock, which occasioned 

 some surprise in my mind, as I always believed the early 

 mornings the best as well as the pleasantest part of the day 

 to look for game in that climate, but I cheerfully acqui- 

 esced, deferring to "Niinrod's" superior intelligence in 

 such matters. 



About two hours after the appointed time (the dislike 

 of exertion in the Santa Cruzians begets a supreme indif- 

 ference to punctuality) the famous hunter appeared in a 

 heavy two-horse trap, armed with a double-barreled 

 breech-loader (one of the cheap and villainous few that 

 have reached the island). He was attired in a style that 

 suggested a picnic with ladies rather than a hunt for 

 deer. He was accompanied by two negroes; one of them, 

 he explained, was to load his gun and extract empty 

 spells as fast as he knocked over a deer, the other to care 

 for the inevitable hamper, the contents of which on such 

 excursions, as I subsequently learned, are invariably 

 three-fourths liquid. Our destination seemed to be no- 

 where in particular, so after passing the outskirts of the 

 town we drew up at the first likely looking spot where a 

 deer might possibly pass some time or other, and depos- 

 ited our entire outfit in the shade of a wide spreading 

 tamarind tree. The horses were unharnessed and tied to 

 trees some distance off; a snowy cloth was spread on the 

 grass and a banquet, elaborately supplemented with 

 decanters, disposed thereon. A pail of ice, from which 

 peeped the necks of a couple of bottles of champagne, 

 was placed on the grass near by. One of the gentlemen, 

 as if the display of liquids were not already sufficiently 

 varied, proceeded to brew a bowl of Santa Cruz punch", 

 the rum used being nearly a quarter of a century old. 

 We spent a couple of hours very pleasantly, if not profit- 

 ably, in lunching, and after luncheon the well trained 

 attendant opened a box of cigars, removed the debris, 

 and we proceeded to aAvait with much fortitude the 

 coming of the game. The soothing influence of this 

 method of hunting can hardly be conceived until it is 

 tried. With a rifle across my lap, my back against the 

 tree, an uncommonly pleasant cigar between my teeth, 

 the droning hum of insects in the sleepy air about me 

 and the soft twittering of birds overhead among the 

 branches, I fell sound asleep, and was dreaming 

 of tropical landscapes, coral strands — of anything 

 but deer, when the sound of a familiar whistle 

 awoke me and I opened my eyes to stare straight 

 at a big buck standing up to his knees in the waving 

 green Guinea grass about thirty yards away, broadside 

 to, head up, and regarding our encampment with startled 

 amazement in his luminous brown eyes. Flecks of sun- 

 light striking through the. branches of a neighboring tree 

 played upon his smooth hide, and a swift impression 

 crossed my mind that in all my days I had never beheld 

 so beautiful a sight as this. Cautiously, but with reluc- 

 tance, I slowly began to raise my rifle, and the big fellow 

 stood as motionless as a statue, when the mighty hunter 

 at my elbow suddenly woke up. "The devil!" he ejacu- 

 lated, and whang, whang, went both barrels of his gun. 

 The deer glanced about as if wondering what on earth 

 the fat party under the tree was shooting at, and then, 

 before I could recover from the momentary confusion 

 into which the double and unexpected report of my com- 

 panion's gun had thrown me, there was a vacuum where 

 the buck had stood. With conflicting impulses to laugh 

 and swear at the same, time, I helped them search for 

 possible traces of blood, but none were found, for the 

 price of good marksmanship is practice, and that the 

 gentleman was precluded from having by reason of the 

 ennervating effects of the climate; though it might be 

 open to conjecture how 18 buckshot at 30yds. coidd pos- 

 sibly be misplaced. I had expected to hear curses, both 

 loud and deep, follow this failure to score, but our dis- 

 appointment did not by any means depress the spirits of 

 my friend and his sable henchmen— on the contrary, it 

 was as near as they ever came to killing anything, and 

 the hamper was repacked with as much jubilation as if 

 it was the deer they were packing; and at his invitation 

 I accompanied "Nimrod" to his home to dine, where a 

 wondering and admiring circle of friends listened to the 

 thrilling account of how near he came to killing a buck. 

 If this should ever meet his eye he must admit that my 

 exposure of his foibles is not entirely undeserved, for he 

 owned up with some contrition before I left the island 

 that he had never succeeded in shooting a deer in his life, 

 and never expected to. 



Besides the sort of hunter above described, the only dis- 

 turber of the tranquillity of the animals is the plantation 

 hand, who occasionally succeeds In catching a fawn alive 

 and bringing him to town on market day, usually dispos- 

 ing of him to some person zoologically inclined for a 

 quarter of a dollar. It is not surprising that under these 

 circumstances the deer have multiplied to such numbers 

 as to have overflowed from the wild and steep mountain 

 fastnesses to the cultivated plains below, where they 



prove a nuisance to the planters, for they eat the young 

 and tender shoots of the sugar cane, and play havoc with 

 vegetable patches. 



Santa Cruz, small as it is, was at one time an island of 

 considerable commercial importance, having been largely 

 productive of sugar, molasses and rum, the last of world- 

 wide celebrity; but now, partly through exhaustion of 

 the soil and partly on account of the periodical recurrence 

 of severe droughts, the annual yield of these staples has 

 greatly decreased, and of course the bank accounts of 

 property owners have become correspondingly attenu- 

 ated. Thousands of acres that once waved with the 

 bright green of sugar cane have been given up to the 

 wild ass, deer and hog, and are now overgrown with dense 

 masses of sprouting, creeping and climbing tropical vege- 

 tation. The crumbling remnants of demolished sugar 

 works are to be seen clotting the landscape on all sides, 

 while from the density of dark green orange, mango and 

 palm foliage surrounding them peep the stately, vine- 

 clad ruins of once noble mansions, whose disintegrating 

 Avails are now tenanted only by bats and owls, and in 

 whose unkempt, but still sweetly blooming, flower gar- 

 dens the wild doe rears her .young. 



As the almost inevitable Odnsteduenee of vanished 

 wealth and prosperity, with absolutely no hope of re- 

 trieving them, the native whites have gradually descended 

 almost to the bottom of the intellectual and physical 

 scale. The planters, who are nearly all Irish and Scotch- 

 men, still retain the vital qualities of their northern 

 blood, and are a hearty, honest lot of fellows; but the 

 "Creoles," as they call themselves, whose ancestors origin- 

 ally came from Europe and America and brought "the 

 island to the climax of its prosperity, are a handful of 

 ignorant, thin-blooded, helpless, and altogether degener- 

 ate, scions of their worthy forefathers; and unfortunately 

 this degradation is not only physical and intellectual, 

 for visitors to the island are una voidably disgusted by 

 the revoltiug moral obliquity exhibited by these white 

 men, Avho, though affecting to loathe and despise the 

 negro, do not hesitate to avail themselves of every oppor- 

 tunity the negro quarters may afford. They still call 

 themselves the aristocracy of the island, and an excruci- 

 atingly funny one, were it not for the element of pathos 

 in it, would be the spectacle of these people riding about 

 in their crazy vehicles drawn by under-sized and dis- 

 torted specimens of horse flesh, which are usually clubbed 

 along by dilapidated colored drivers, the chalky-com- 

 plexioned occupant of the ambulance fully believing that 

 he or she is creditably sustaining the ancient grandeur of 

 the family, and striking awe and admiration to the hearts 

 of all plebian beholders. 



But actually an ethnical revolution of a decided nature 

 has occurred in Santa Cruz, for the best educated, most 

 progressive and wealthiest part of the population is the 

 better class of colored people. They are by all odds su- 

 perior to the whites in every way, and Would indeed 

 make creditable citizens of any country under the sun; 

 most of them have been well educated in Europe, and 

 some are ladies and gentlemen of high attainments; they 

 are hospitable to a degree, and strangers invariably esteem 

 them for their sturdy self-respect, but unobtrusive, de- 

 meanor, as well as for their genial courtesy. 



As I said before, there are no regular hotels on the 

 island, but a number of excellent boarding houses supply 

 the want, and as good board can be had there for $7 or $8 

 a week as could be obtained in the most fashionable 

 boarding house in NeAv York at fashionable NeAv York 

 prices. The blue waters of the Caribbean afford a great 

 variety of delicious fish, as admirable for their gorgeous 

 hues as for their edible qualities, while among the meats 

 green turtle and mutton are simply a revelation. 



Though "a hunting trip to the West Indies" sounds big, 

 there is nothing more formidable or expensive about it 

 than attaches to a run down to Florida, Avhile it is far 

 more likely to prove remunerative to the seeker after 

 health or game. The time from New York to Santa Cruz 

 direct by steamer is about six days; by sailing vessel 

 (much the pleasanter way if one has the time, and also 

 less expensive) from ten to fifteen clays. Carib. 



THE MYSTERIOUS MISSTISSINI. 



Editor Forest and Stream; 



Referring to my files of the Forest and Stream, I 

 happen to see for the first time a long article in the issue 

 of Nov. 19, 1887, written by "Adirondack" Murray and 

 copied from the Boston Herald, which is well worthy of 

 the discoverer of "Phantom Falls," the "Nameless Lake" 

 and sundry other sylvan mysteries which he has brought 

 to notice in the course of twenty years, and caused to 

 materialize in a dim and someAvhat uncertain light, to 

 the amazement of the well-informed as well as the 

 ignorant and credulous. This article naturally treats not 

 so much of what is actually known of Misstissini Lake 

 as of what is unknown and hypothetical, for there is 

 usually very little romance in hard facts. Were the 

 narrative not purely speculative, its interest Avould cease. 

 To deal with the commonplace time-Avorn history of the 

 lake would be dull enough to the writer, while to follow 

 the hard beaten trail which the annual brigade of Hud- 

 son's Bay voyageurs has traversed over the heights of land 

 between Lake St. John and Misstissini for fully a hun- 

 dred years, would be as monotonous to the reader as to 

 the hardy men themselves. 



The "heft" of Mr. Murray's complaint is that Lake 

 Misstissini, although admitted to have been discovered 250 

 years ago by a French missionary who crossed from the 

 Saguenay River to Hudson's Bay, has scarcely been visited 

 since, and is not even known officially to the Dominion 

 government in whose domain it lies! A marvel of un- 

 conscionable apathy, in vieAV of the fact that the lake is 

 supposed (?) to have an area as large as that of Lake 

 Superior, Avhile it is but 500 miles distant from Quebec. 

 Furthermore, the most energetic explorers of the Cana- 

 dian Geographical Survey and of the Geographical Society 

 of Quebec, have scarcely been able to more than reach its 

 hithermost shore line, observing its distant expanse only 

 as the bold Arctic navigator Lockwood viewed the open 

 Polar Sea. And consequently deploring tins long neglect 

 and failure to accomplish a work apparently so feasible, 

 he (Murray) was about to undertake to explore this incog- 

 nita himself except that he was deterred by the lateness 

 of the season and the Avarnings of old men and maidens 

 who had read the fate of the youth in "Excelsior." 



Now, if the indefatigable Mr. Murray is really disposed 

 to risk his life in the interest of science and the Cana- 

 dians, I will tip him a few points to help him through, 



