FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Dec. 1, 1887. 



Address all c-ommunicatiom to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



HUNTING IN FLORIDA IN 1874.-III. 



MY return to Fred's camp was devoid of interest, ex- 

 cept that my Cracker companion got out of tobacco 

 from sharing with Tommy (who, in his turn, shared with 

 all his picaninnies except the pappoose in the hammock), 

 and soon became very cross, often putting his horse into 

 a gallop and getting far ahead of me, it being almost im- 

 possible for me, with stick and spur, to urge my mule 

 out of a slow trot. The second day he became insolent, 

 and insisted finally upon breaking camp at 10 o'clock at 

 night, to reach home at midnight, saying his horse would 

 know the way home in the darkest night. Knowing 

 what he might be if the lion within him was aroused I 

 carefully avoided irritating him and let him have his own 

 way. When about two miles from home he wanted me 

 to let him have my pistol to fire off as a signal to his 

 family that he was coming, pretending that he always 

 did so when he returned home. Asking him why he did 

 not use his own he said "mine spoke loudest." As I 

 handed it to him with my left hand I cocked my double- 

 barreled gun with my right and fell back a little into the 

 darkness. He fired two shots in quick succession and 

 said he would fire two more half a mile further on, and 

 did so, and then returned me the pistol and somewhat 

 relieved my anxiety. Just upon that, a year-old colt be- 

 longing to him galloped up, and though doing nothing out 

 of the way, he commenced venting his spite upon it by 

 filling the air with his curses. At length, determined to 

 hurt something, he dismounted and commenced belabor- 

 ing the colt with a large club, but in the darkness gave 

 his own horse a thwack that sent him flying and landed 

 his saddle-bags in the bushes. The faithful beast, how- 

 ever, returned at his call, and after a long search the 

 saddle-bags were replaced, and we arrived at his cabin 

 to find Fred all right in his tent, but greatly rejoiced at 

 my return. I have no reason to think Mr. J. designed 

 harm, but to this day his conduct is utterly unaccount- 

 able to me. 



During my absence Fred tented alone, employing the 

 first day in household matters, cleaning his gun, sharpen- 

 ing his hatchet and skinning-knives, shooting a couple of 

 birds in the vicinity of the camp, trying his hand at bak- 

 ing bread in a borrowed Dutch owen, and retiring at sun- 

 down; but the wandering hogs so disturbed him he rose 

 soon after midnight and built a rousing fire. This 

 brought from the cabin a Mr. N. , the eccentric character 

 of the settlement, a squatter and bachelor, whose home- 

 stead, three miles distant in the woods, consisted of a 

 mule cart, beneath which he slept in his blanket on the 

 bare ground, and whose personal property comprised the 

 one suit of clothes he wore and the mule I rode to the 

 lake, with dilapidated saddle, bridle and saddle-bags. 

 Lending a hand to the squatters occasionally, he earned 

 a precarious subsistence, spending what little money he 

 could get hold of for wliiskey. Obeying the caution I had 

 impressed upon me by Judge P. , at my introduction to 

 "Cracker" life, I carefully avoided inquiring into the 

 antecedents of any one, but Mr. N. must have seen better 

 days at some period of his life, for he would entertain us 

 with Methodist songs from memory (as he could not read 

 or write) by the hour together— the only recognition of 

 Christianity I found in all this benighted region. Though 

 at least three-score-and-ten, he assured me he intended to 

 marry ere long: and, when I interposed the objection of 

 his want of a suitable lodging place, he quickly replied, 

 "Any woman who didn't love him enough to sleep with 

 him under his cart, wasn't worthy of him." My more 

 extended acquaintance with "Crackers" of the feminine 

 gender convinced me he would not find much trouble in 

 pairing himself if he should seriously pop the question. 



While I was absent a "Cracker" boy stimulated Fred's 

 gastronomic propensities by the offer of some eggs, which 

 luxury called to mind the sugar syrup in the bottom of 

 Five-Mile Creek. The temptation to try for it was too 

 strong to resist ; so, putting all his provisions inside of 

 Mr. J.'s for fear of the hogs, leaving both ends of the tent 

 open for them to walk through, rolling up all the clothing 

 with the carpet-bag knapsack containing our arsenic into 

 a bundle and putting it on the table I had extemporized 

 for skinning purposes, he took his gun and trudged to the 

 creek, and was delighted to see the jug sitting bolt up- 

 right on the bottom, but too deep down to reach with 

 arm or stick. Though the water was very cold, in a trice, 

 stripping and diving for it, he was overjoyed to find the 

 water had not leaked hi to dilute it. And so the luxury 

 we hadn't, we had. Securing a couple of herons, and 

 this time firmly retaining hold of the coveted jug, he re- 

 traced his steps to the canrp with beatific visions, which 

 were destined to be dashed to the ground when he came 

 in sight of it. The table lay flat and everything was scat- 

 tered around, with the hogs making merry with all the 

 women in the cabin 300ft. distant had not saved, as they 

 heard the table fall. Fortunately, both for ourselves and 

 the hogs directly, and indirectly for our continuance on 

 good terms with the Crackers in the settlement— for the 

 hogs were common property — the women saved the 

 ars3nic before the creatures had penetrated to it. Having 

 righted things and carefully potted two bones of a deer 

 for soup the next morning, seeming the cover beyond the 

 possibility of a hog's snout reaching the meat, he lay 

 down to sleep. By 4 o'clock in the morning the hogs 

 routed him out. but the pot containing the soup meat was 

 seemingly untouched. All preparations being made, the 

 pot was opened, when, lo, one of the two bones was miss- 

 ing! Though every necessary caution had been taken 

 against the insertion of a hog's snout, none had been 

 taken against a coon's snout or a 'possum's paw. Spend- 

 ing his third day alone in skinning birds and contriving 

 better arrangements for protection against the hogs and 

 "varmint," he lay down to sleep at dark, only to be 

 aroused by my return at midnight. Little sleep, how- 

 ever, had either of us, so annoying were the hogs, and 

 we decided to quit that locality as speedily as possible. 



Having accomplished the desideratum of the trip, in see- 

 ing the lake and disabusing naturalists of its pretensions 

 as an elysium for them, we were all at sea as to future 

 plans, for the second object of our trip was still in abey- 

 ance — the securing of specimens of rare birds and their 

 eggs, and a study of them in their haunts. Our wily ( 

 "Cracker," ever on the alert to make money out of us, ' 



honestly or dishonestly, suggested our camping for a few 

 days at a "heronry" a day's tramp into the heart of 

 Alpatiokee Swamp, known only to himself and the In- 

 dians, but impenetrable, except by a boat, on account of 

 the deep water and the cypress-knees. He also informed 

 us that three miles down the creek near which we were 

 encamped there was a flat-bottomed boat, just adapted to 

 our need, which the owner would sell at a reasonable 

 price. So Tom was dispatched with the oxen to bring it. 

 Toward night he returned, saying it had lain upon the 

 bank so long, drying in the sun, that he could thrust his 

 hand between every plank. Suggesting to him that we 

 would take it to pieces and re-nail and re-caulk it, 1 went 

 back with him, and bringing it to the camp we set about 

 the operation. As there were neither sawn boards nor 

 nails in all the settlement, we worked very carefully to 

 save what we had. For calking we used the lace fibre of 

 the palmetto leaf besmeared with tar, which we tried out 

 of the pine knots by smothering them in an oven made in 

 the ground. When finished we had a scow twelve feet 

 in length, four feet wide, turned up two feet at each end, 

 with a gunwale of eight inches — the frail bark that sub- 

 sequent experience proved was to save us many times 

 from the jaws of alligators and a watery grave. 



Having bargained with Mr. J. to take us with his ox- 

 team to the heronry and return for us in ten days at so 

 much a day, we had our luggage all ready for him to 

 load into the scow soon after daylight, and requested 

 him to drive about 100yds. to our camp for it. As the 

 heronry was beyond his house from the camp he refused 

 to come or even to lend us the least assistance in getting 

 our heavy packs to the team, saying "he bargained to 

 start from his house." As before suggested we knew it 

 was well not to arouse the tiger in him, and so we toted 

 them ourselves to the scow, he grumbling all the time 

 that we were delaying him. About 9 o'clock we got off, 

 but were ourselves got off by our teamster's insisting 

 upon a long tarry at each Cracker's hut we passed within 

 the first five miles. By careful balancing of our load we 

 managed to ford almost to swimming Ten Mile Creek 

 and keep our powder dry, and soon after entered the 

 Flats, showing only a water horizon with an occasional 

 island a few feet in diameter, on which from one to half 

 a dozen tall pines were growing with a thick growth of 

 underbrush — excellent rendezvous for panthers, wildcats, 

 possums and land snakes, wild turkeys roosting in the 

 trees. To wade knee-deep was the work of the day, care- 

 fully avoiding the dreaded moccasins, which, lurking in 

 the tussocks of grass, "strike their envenomed fangs 

 deep into the leg ere the traveler is aware of their pres- 

 ence." Plodding on wearily after the cart, as the safer 

 position through the fright to the snakes occasioned by 

 the paddling of the oxen, we came to a grassy plain a 

 mile in width, from which the drying-up waters had re- 

 ceded, but revealing midway across it a creek nearly 

 waist-deep with perpendicular sides. But my spade soon 

 changed their steepness to a slope, and the faithful oxen, 

 accustomed to rushing through a stream, landed all safe 

 on the other side. 



Two or three such, but with sloping banks, we met in 

 the course of the day, and one altogether too deep to wade 

 conveniently; but to my request that we ride over, our 

 teamster on the cart only replied by pouring out a volley 

 of oaths, and ru'ging the cattle across before we could 

 come up with him. Thus alternating between strips of 

 marsh and wide wastes of water, we at length discerned 

 on the horizon a cypress clump towering up like a "blue 

 mountain." "That is the heronry," exclaimed our guide, 

 "but there is no camping place nearer than this island 

 clump of palmettos near by . " "But how far is the heronry 

 from here?" ' 'Perhaps four miles. " ' 'And do you expect 

 us to wade this long distance twice a day for ten days and 

 carry our game?" "Certainly." "Then take us right 

 back to your house." After much persuasion he was in- 

 duced to go on and run the risk of finding a nearer camp- 

 ing island. At length we found one less than fifty feet 

 across, with considerable dead wood upon it, which our 

 teamster said was not over a mile distant from the heronry, 

 and was absolutely the nearest spot of dry land to it. 

 Careful observation afterward proved it to be not less 

 than two miles. Cutting a path through the dense pal- 

 metto scrub bordering the island, we unloaded our traps 

 from the scow, and left Fred to put things to rights for a 

 ten-days' camp-keeping, with the caution to be careful 

 about setting the dry leaves afire, while the teamster and 

 myself hastened on to launch the scow near the heronry. 

 This effected, we noticed a fine camping island not more 

 than a quarter of a mile distant; but it was too late, as all 

 our luggage was two miles back. Nearing the camp on 

 our return, Fred was seen repeatedly hurrying out into 

 the water and back again, as though in trouble. It seems, 

 notwithstanding our precaution, the fire had got the 

 upper hand of him and was spreading, and he was lug- 

 ging the powder and provisions out of the way of danger 

 to an extemporized platform of sticks he had constructed 

 in the water. Further examination proved the soil to be 

 peaty, and suggested the danger of subterranean combus- 

 tion, and such a possible thinning of the crust as to refuse 

 to bear our weight some night, with the result of tum- 

 bling us, powder and all, into a mass of smouldering em- 

 bers. To avoid this, we encircled our hearth with a trench 

 and daily supplied it plentifully with water. 



To obtain filtered water for culinary purposes, we dug 

 a shallow well a few feet within the margin of the island 

 on the opposite side of our entrance, which soon filled 

 with water percolating through the peaty soil. This, 

 strained from the insects and small lizards continually 

 tumbling into the well, served our purpose satisfactorily. 

 Having thoroughly beaten the ground within and around 

 our tent, to frighten away any ground rattlesnakes, 

 scorpions and such like vermin as may have been lurking 

 beneath the leaves, we commended ourselves to the care 

 of Him who never slumbers nor sleeps, and lay down to 

 rest at dusk. Excessive fatigue quickly invited sleep, but, 

 the nights being moonless, for how long time we were 

 unconscious I cannot say, when we were awakened by 

 such deep bellowings within a few feet as made me think 

 at first some bulls of the cattle herds ranging all over the 

 country had come into camp near us. It was our first ex- 

 perience of the full-toned bellowing of alligators so near 

 us, and it was a question whether the savory viands of 

 our evening repast might not be attracting them to our 

 limited quarters. The thought was not pleasant, nor 

 made less so by the sudden chiming in of the most horrible 

 throtthng sounds that ever grated upon human ear. I 

 have not been unaccustomed from my youth to the 

 death rattle of the dying bedside, or the gasping groans 



of the earlier slaughter houses; but in this medley of 

 sounds that filled our ears, there was a perfect nondescript 

 anomaly to me. Later experience leads me to suppose it 

 was the dragging under of a large bird, perhaps the water 

 ibis, by an alligator, as there was much splashing of 

 water commingled with the shrieks and gurglings. But 

 tired nature would assert herself, though only to be dis- 

 turbed again by the distinct, but stealthy, tread of some 

 animal close to our canvas. Is it a panther? is it a wild- 

 cat? is it a coon? is it a possum? we whispered to each 

 other. At length it approached my head and tapped the 

 canvas within 6in. of my face with its paw. I tapped 

 back, when it bounded away, but with so light a bound 

 that I was convinced it was not larger than a wildcat or 

 a coon, and felt no further alarm. Waking at daylight, 

 we found abundant tracks of a wildcat in the soft mud 

 on the margin of our island, and a flock of turkey buzzards 

 roosting directly over our heads, both indications of 

 marauders warning us to put our things in order for safety 

 before starting for the heronry. 



Strapping on my tin knapsack containing our lunch, 

 with gun in left hand and a palmetto stick 7ft. long in 

 right, with which to slap the water to frighten away the 

 moccasins, and in our high-topped boots, we started, Fred 

 carrying his gun, two tin pans and a tin cup, and a board 

 for the purpose of making a seat across the top of our 

 scow. We had hardly left the camp when the water 

 poured into our knee-top boots, adding greatly to the 

 weight we had to carry. Frequently my slapping the 

 water would scare up a moccasin, which, "striking an 

 attitude" for striking, would await our nearer approach 

 with threatening fangs. Disabling it by a blow of the stick, 

 I was on the alert for another. Carefully taking our 

 bearings that we might not get lost on our return, we 

 came in sight of the gunwale of our scow just peeping 

 above the water, it having sunk during the night. Cau- 

 tiously approaching it, lest it might shelter underneath 

 the dreaded reptile, I aided Fred into it to bail it out, 

 while I proceeded to cut away the marginal underbrush 

 and make a path for pushing the scow into deep water. 

 On starting, I had forgotten to take my stick, in my en- 

 thusiasm at the sight of the flocks of spoonbills and j 

 herons flying over the swamp; but ere I had taken ten ] 

 steps, pausing in the water half knee-deep to watch their 

 movements, I looked down and saw just beneath the sur- 

 face the largest moccasin I had hitherto seen, crawling 

 between my legs. Instantly becoming motionless and 

 telling Fred to keep quiet, I watched it "drag its slow 

 length along," till its tail was a foot to the rear of me, 

 and then showed it to Fred, whose blanched count enance 

 would hardly permit Him to exclaim, "Are you bitten?" 

 I think I could sketch the markings on that snake's back 

 with accuracy to-day, ten years after the occurrence, for 

 I am sure I seemed to have ample time to examine them 

 before the end of that tail showed itself. 



Anticipating some trouble with the scow, for some of 

 the boards I used in repairing it were not straight-edged, 

 I had prepared myself with palmetto lace, and with my 

 hatchet and knife recalked it, so that , should we bail it 

 every few minutes we deemed it might be safe, and so 

 pushed it through my path into deep water. 



Now for the results of all our toil, expense and danger, 

 and, thanks to a kind providence, they are speedily 

 realized. Hardly afloat and a roseate spoonbill rose from 

 its nest and perched beside it. Fred shot her while I 

 poled the scow in all haste, as, the moment it struck the 

 water, watchful alligators made for it on every side. We 

 triumphed and secured it, and then Fred climbed to the 

 nest amid the filthy branches while I kept the scow im- 

 mediately under him, lest, falling from a dead limb into 

 the water, he should himself be gobbled up by the alliga- 

 tors, who were watching the operation to the number of 

 at least half a dozen. Three eggs were secured and iden- 

 tified. Bailing out our frail scow, I pushed it among the 

 cypress knees, both excited to the highest pitch, as the 

 birds kept rising from their nests, and, circling in the 

 gleaming sunlight displayed their roseate hues to the 

 best advantage. Soon another falls a victim to Fred's 

 unerring aim, but alas, drops right into an alligator's 

 mouth, who goes to the bottom with it in a trice. "Fred, 

 lay low and I'll have that bird yet." "Nonsense, it's down 

 the alligators maw by this time." "We'll see," I replied, 

 and pushing the scow over the spot of engulfraent, I 

 could plainly see about six feet deep the pink hues of the 

 spoonbill as it was held down by the alligator. Two or 

 three thrusts of my pole so astonished the brute that he 

 let go the bird, and it now graces the Museum of Brown 

 University. Besides the spoonbills, there were by the 

 hundreds, the different species of egrets, herons and 

 ibises. Having identified the eggs of the different nests 

 by carefully noting what birds flew from them, and 

 secured about fifty in all, besides as many birds as we 

 thought we could skin before dark, we left our scow in 

 the marsh outside and returned to camp carrying our load 

 of about fifty pounds each, wading every step of the two 

 miles with our boots full of water. J. W. P. Jenks. 

 Bkown University, Providence, R. I. 



The Domestic Dog.— What stuff people do write about 

 dogs. Hear what Colonel Thomas Wentworth Biggiuson 

 writes in Harper's Bazar: "How many of us hold to our 

 friends with a love as inexhaustible and as inextinguishable 

 as that which our dog gives to us ?" What rubbish is this ? 

 It seems to me that when people become addicted to dog 

 worship they lose their minds. The dog loves the man who 

 feeds him. You may keep a good well-bred dog for five 

 years, and then sell him, and in two months bis ''inexhaust- 

 ible" love will be so far exhausted, and his "inextinguish- 

 able" love so nearly put out, that the faithful creature will 

 chase you out of his new master's orchard. A man who 

 confesses that his love for his friends is weaker, and more 

 selfish, and less faithful, than a dog's, puts a shamefully low 

 estimate upon his friendship. I love to read the two great- 

 est books in the world, the Bible and Shakespeare; neither 

 of them say anything good about a dog. It isn't that I dis- 

 like dogs, because I don't; I like them; but there is such a 

 tendency to dog worship in these weak, poodling times of 

 pug and mastiff that a man needs a great deal of wholesome 

 corrective. What's that ? You once had a dog that — "Out, 

 damned Spot !" Do you suppose I am going to accept the 

 statements of men who once had, or who now have dogs, as 

 evidence ? You'll want to tell me about a bass you caught 

 the next thing. I knew your dog; a long-haired, beautiful, 

 active, faithful, creature he was, as ever made glad the heart 

 of a boy. He used to trample all over other people's gardens, 

 and carried his unwelcome fleas into your neighbors' homes; 

 he tore down climbing vines and dug for moles and rats 

 under the rose bushes, and when it rained on him he smell ed 

 like the picking room of a tannery. I knew your dog. — 

 Burdette- in Brooklyn Eagle. 



