FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb, 17, 1887, 



Amres8 all eommunicatiam to the Forest and Stream Puhi Co. 



UNOFFICIAL LOG OF THE STELLA.— IIL 



READER, should you ever have occasion to visit Jekyl 

 Island (near Brunswick, Ga.), do not forget to call 

 on old man Da Bignon, who lives in an old-fashioned 

 cottage ahout one mile from the club house. The house 

 is small, decidedly Southern in build and surroundings, 

 a good deal run to seed, but surrounded by the finest live 

 oaks on the island; and underneath these oaks you will 

 not fail to notice all that rust has left of an immense 

 square iron cauldron. This is historical. It is the caul- 

 dron in which beef was boiled and soup was daily made 

 for the sable cargo of the Wanderer; and when the cargo 

 was safely landed the cauldron was sat up ashore and 

 kept in daily use until the cargo was disposed of and dis- 

 persed to the various plantations along the coast. And 

 from that time until the present the huge silent witness 

 has slowly rusted away under the oaks of Jekyl Island. 



No man can give the history of this island and the 

 famous daring venture of the law-defying "Wanderer as 

 can old man Du Bignon. It was to him that the cargo of 

 human chattels was consigned. It was owing to his vigil- 

 ance and thorough knowledge of the country that the 

 Government was unable to lay hands on a single negro 

 of that cargo, of which he had the disposal, and he suc- 

 ceeded in placing the stock where it was supposed to do 

 most good. In those days the Du Bignons lived in 

 (Southern) baronial style. ' They owned Jekyl Island, 

 and dealt largely in "niggers" and Sea Island cotton— two 

 articles that paid princely returns. 



Latitude and longitude considered they were a fine race 

 of men. Of fine physique, energetic, brave, courteous 

 and just, as they believed in their hearts, they were yet 

 intolerant, ultra Southern, and bitterly pro-slavery. The 

 Sea Islands at that time offered few inducements to the 

 average Bostonian as a winter residence, and it was a 

 sickly country for Yankee peddlers. The war changed 

 all that. There was not a slave or a pound of cotton on 

 Jekyl Island, and the Du Bignons were in a state of needy 

 decadence until a lucky sale of the island gave them the 

 command of money once more. We had a young man 

 of the name for guide and director on a deer hunt, and a 

 finer specimen of young manhood or a better horseman 

 would be far to seek. 



Old man Du Bignon is in the sere and yellow, and an 

 ugly cancer is eating out the little life he has left, but he 

 is not averse to talk, and he will give you a clearer in- 

 side view of old-time life in the Sea Islands than you 

 will ever glean from Uncle Tom's Cabin or Whittfer's 

 poems, added to all the files -of the Liberator. He has no 

 lack of children to cheer him in his old age, there being 

 some fifty on the island and in the neighborhood who 

 claim liim as father. They are mostly coffee-colored, and 

 the straightforward old sinner, whose morality is not of 

 the Plymouth Rock type, has no compunctions about it. 



We find many yachts from the North cruising in South- 

 ern waters, and the general disposition to fraternize, ex- 

 change visits, or afford mutual assistance, is one of the 

 pleasant features of yachting. We meet and pass them, 

 or they pass us in the* most unexpected places. In narrow 

 creeks, m bays, sounds and rivers, or we come to anchor 

 in the same waters and "gam" with them. 



In Jekyl Creek we were anchored near the Magnolia 

 and the Reva, and when we ran up to Brunswick we 

 found them both there before us; and the latter yacht 

 was in difficulty, having lost her second engineer, who 

 had been shot by a Brunswick policeman. The citizens 

 were bitter on the policeman and declared the act no less 

 than murderous. "And what makes it look blacker," 

 said a leading merchant of the place, "is the fact that this 

 is the seventh man that same policeman has shot. He 

 will get 'stopped' on this shot." We see by the Florida 

 papers that the wounded man has died and his slayer is 

 in prison on a charge of manslaughter. It is bad policy 

 for Florida ports to thin out yachtsmen by pistol practice, 

 .and the people see it. Yachtsmen buy liberally and pay 

 well for what they require. 



We meet some queer craft in these waters, and one of 

 the most curious is a New Haven sharpie, which started 

 from New Haven with a crew of nine men some time in 

 November, bound for St. Lucie, on the Indian River. 

 She was expected to make the trip inside of a month, as 

 she was propelled by a kerosene engine in addition to her 

 cat rig. An open boat, with less than a foot of freeboard 

 and no cabin at all, nor even a small boat to go ashore 

 with, her only protection for the crew at night or in 

 stormy weather consisting of tarpaulins and blankets 

 stretched over the boom, she was by no means the craft 

 to run outside, while comfort and cleanliness were out of 

 the question. Seven weeks out she passed us in Jekyl 

 Creek, puffing and roaring as kerosene boats will, and 

 with a crew of seven, two men having left her in disgust. 



We ran outside to Fernandina, and lay there for one 

 day, then took the outside run to St. Augustine, where 

 we spent several days; and while lying at anchor there 

 what should come puffing up the bay but our kerosene 

 friend from New Haven. We had supposed her at St. 

 Lucie, but she had been working the inside route without 

 a pilot, and had got a trifle mixed. At Matanzas Inlet 

 she had ventured outside for a run to Mosquito Inlet, but 

 hardly had got out on the open sea when there came an 

 ominous change in the weather. The wind was ahead 

 and fast rising, the clouds rolled up black and threaten- 

 ing, and the sharpie turned her nose up the coast and 

 made her best speed for a harbor at St. Augustine. She 

 made it by a close shave, with nothing to spare. An 

 hour's delay would have swamped her. She tied to the 

 wharf over night, left early the next morning, and we 

 supposed we had seen the last of her. Not at ail. We 

 loitered along the coast — always outside — and while lying 

 at anchor near the little town of New Smyrna, along 

 came our friends from New Haven. They had worked 

 through by the inside route, slowly and with some 

 difficulty, and had been nine weeks en voyage, whereas 

 they expected to make the trip in a month. They were 

 in a demoralized state, rather. An open boat, with a 

 kerosene engine and plenty of salt water, does not give 

 the right conditions for wholesome cookery or cleanliness, 

 and they were badly mixed. The boat was destined for 

 the oyster trade on Indian River; and six of her crew 1 



were engaged to work for "the company," being given 

 free passage on the boat on condition that they furnished 

 and cooked their own food-. The only man under pay 

 was the captain, the pay of the others commencing on 

 their arrival at St. Lucie; and they had rather anticipated 

 a sort of free and easy picnic. But the cruise had not 

 panned out according to promise. 



" If," said one of the crew, "there is such a thing as a 

 tramp element in yachting, we represent it. We live like 

 pigs, there is only thirty-^six cents among six of us, and 

 we are out of tobacco. Thank heaven we are only three 

 days easy rim from St. Lucie, and if I am ever caught 

 cruising from Connecticut to Florida in an open boat 

 again, I hope I may drown." 



The Stella's crew stocked them with tobacco, and they 

 are at the end of their weary cruise ere this. But an old 

 woodsman may be pardoned a hearty laugh at the comi- 

 cal ending of such a lugubrious picnic. 



Every intelligent reader is supposed to know something 

 of ''Old St. Augustine," the oldest city in America, and, 

 perhaps, the most written about. And so many have read 

 descriptions of the massive old Spanish fort— now Fort 

 Marion, that description here might be deemed super- 

 fluous. 



But everybody has not seen Chief Geronimo's band of 

 448 Apaches now confined in the old fort, though Gero- 

 ninio lias been sent to Fort Pickens, as it was thought 

 best to keep Mm apart from his tribe. They are camped 

 in 147 tents, nearly all of which are pitched on the broad 

 walks of the fort; and if there is a dirtier tribe of Indians 

 anywhere on tins continent I have not seen them. 



As Captain H. had letters to the officer in charge of the 

 post (General Ayers), we had no difficulty in getting a 

 pass, and a sergeant who has been with the band since 

 their surrender, and can speak their lingo, was detailed 

 to put us through. We were warned that it would be as 

 well to keep anything in the wav of watch chains and 

 ornaments out of sight, as they are a freehanded lot of 

 beggars and do not stand in much awe of the white man, 

 whom they have been trained from infancy to look upon 

 as legitimate plunder. 



We found them enjoying rather more than the usual 

 aboriginal amount of dirt and coarse paint, the latter put 

 on in thick daubs of what looked like red and yellow 

 daubs of plaster of paris. A few of them were clad in 

 Apache costume, which looked picturesque rather than 

 cleanly, but the larger portion of them wore the cast-off 

 toggery of civilization, and the various ways in which they 

 wore it passes description. Many of the boys had bows 

 and ai-rows, with which they had already learned the 

 Indian begging trick of shooting pennies or nickles from 

 a cleft stick. "Where do they get the timber to make 

 their bows?" the sergeant was asked. And he answered 

 laconically, "Wood-pile." There are 147 men and boys 

 in the band, while the women and children number 301. 

 Youngsters under six years of age were especially numer- 

 ous, and the Indian women are exceedingly fond of their 

 cliildren, Avhom they manage with admirable tact and 

 gentleness. It seemed to us that this was their one re- 

 deeming trait. 



As to the tribe generally, they chafe grievously at their 

 unwonted abridgment of liberty; and the officers at the 

 fort believe they are only kept from a wild outbreak by 

 the understanding that they are to be put on a reservation 

 of their own in early spring, and left free to do as they 

 please. 



In spite of all reports to the contrary these Apaches are 

 and have been exceptionally healthy in their captivity, 

 there having been but seventeen deaths among them since 

 then- surrender. But, accustomed as they have always 

 been to the freest life and the pure mountain air of their 

 native fastnesses, it is likely the low, malarious lands of 

 southern Florida may soon solve the Indian question so 

 far as they are concerned, and it is as well so. ^Humanity 

 has no use for them. Nessmuk. 



A TRIP FOR BOB WHITE. 



BY agreement, my brother, who lives not far from 

 Little Rock, Arkansas, and myself met at the Ex- 

 change Hotel, in Richmond, Virginia, on Dec. 3 last, on 

 our way to visit relations in the county of Goochland. 

 Among the inducements to take this trip was an assur- 

 ance on the part of "M., of Northside," that in addition to 

 all the pleasures which his house could afford, he could 

 show us a great many coveys of Bob Whites, and give us 

 an opportunity of displaying our skill with our fine guns. 

 He of Arkansas had with him his gun with two pairs of 

 barrels, each 12-bore, and I had a hammerless 14-gauge, 

 and a second gun, which I have called in honor of the 

 donor Lucy Green. He supplied himself with loaded 

 shells from a dealer in Richmond, while I, using an un- 

 common size, took with me about 200, charged according 

 to my own notion of what was right. 



Soon after leaving home on the Thursday night preced- 

 ing, I discovered that Boreas or somebody else had plunged 

 his javelin in one of the mountains near the North Pole, 

 and the frigid winds had greatly lowered the thermomet- 

 rical elevation. When I reached Weldon the ah was 

 freezingly cold, and so it continued all the way to Rich- 

 mond. After a rather unpleasant night spent in a cold 

 room, we took the Richmond & Alleghany Railroad. It 

 had been cloudy since sunrise, and the train had not gone 

 more than seven or eight miles before the snowfalls were 

 descending rapidly. When we arrived at our station, the 

 ground was covered with a white mantle, destroying all 

 hope of our indulging in any of the pleasures of the field 

 that afternoon. Our friend "M., of Northside," (I do not 

 comprehend the reasons for his nom de plume), was on 

 hand with his vehicle. Reaching his portals we were 

 welcomed by his lovely wife, who, "though the storm 

 without might roar and rustle," was blooming like a vio- 

 let, and charmed us by her cordial welcome. A glowing 

 fire cheered us with its heat and protected us from, the 

 f ury of the driving snow. It was then a little past mid- 

 day, and for hours the snow was falling. The next morn- 

 ing there seemed to be no abatement, and when it did 

 stop the ground was covered about eight inches. This 

 saved Bob White from any possible molestation by our 

 guns, and ended all hope of any sport in the county of 

 Goochland. Still we passed the time pleasantly in con- 

 versation and otherwise. We not only enjoyed ourselves 

 at the dwelling of our host and hostess, but braved the 

 weather and were the recipients of kindness in the homes 

 of some of the neighbors. Indeed, a gentleman, once a 

 resident of New York, but now occupying a lovely seat 

 upon the James, although past his "three score years and 



ten,'' waded through the snow to call on us and invite us 

 to dine with him. We accepted his offer and were met 

 with a "kindly welcome." 



But we did no hunting in Goochland. Thursday morn- 

 ing we took the cars to Richmond. The streets of that 

 city were a sight. Dirty snow for several inches in depth 

 covered the paving stones; the sidewalks were slippery 

 and not safe for sober and well-balanced men. From 

 here we set out on the Chesapeake & Ohio R. R., and 

 going rapidly forward, snow, snow on everv side, until 

 the tram drew up at Frederick's Hall, and before a great 

 while we alighted at the hospitable home of Dr. L. S. P.. 

 and were ushered into a nice parlor, warmed by a blazing 

 fire of oak logs. Mrs. P. soon came in and made nil things 

 "more cheerful and more bright" by her friendly greet- 

 ing. There being no "heritages of the Lord" at this place, 

 the doctor and she "who caught his youthful fancy" make 

 pets of beagles and setters, and devote much time to the 

 gentle art of fishculture. The madame seems to take 

 great interest in her husband's hobbies— if I may so 

 speak— and is of great assistance to him in the manage- 

 ment of his kennel. They had some fine specimens of 

 the dogs which I have named, and allowed them to take 

 the "freedom of the city." Among them were a pair of 

 splendid setter pups which they had raised, and meant as 

 a present to my brother. He dubbed them Lew and Nan 

 in comphment to the givers. 



Directly after dark cur friend M. made his appearance, 

 and we had a pleasant time, talking of dogs, guns, ducks, 

 Bob White, sage hens, willow grouse, speckled trout, 

 black-tailed deer and elks. My brother has spent more 

 than a month for each of the past several years in the 

 mountains of Colorado enjoying himself with the rough 

 sport which that locality affords, and entertained us all 

 with his narration of "the uncos that he saw and heard" 

 in that mountainous land. On the following morning 

 the snow still covered the earth, but M. and the Doctor 

 concluded that they would take their guns and go out in 

 quest either of Bob White, ruffed grouse, or wild turkeys. 

 My brother and I showed more wisdom by remaining in 

 the house. When they returned they had' four squirrels, 

 and reported that they had seen signs of grouse and 

 turkeys. The next day, "listening "to their enticing 

 voices," I was induced to go with them. In that there 

 was folly. I walked a half mile from the house, saw 

 nothing, and did "the better part" by toiling back to the 

 place whose comfort I had left, the others went on. 

 They returned with no game, but M. reported that he had 

 shot at a gobbler. 



That night we left the hospitable dwelling with pleas- 

 ant recollections of its occupants, and all of us took the 

 eastern bound train— my brother to his home in Arkan- 

 sas, M. to Louisa Court House on professional business, 

 and I went where I was met by my kinsman W. J. L., 

 who escorted me to his home. And here I received the 

 warm welcome which had been my lot on two former 

 occasions — one of which was when I visited the place at 

 the invitation of some young friends, students of Ran- 

 dolph Macon College, which is located here, to deliver an 

 address before the society of which I was a member "in 

 life's morning march, when my bosom was young." I 

 spent a quiet Sunday, conversing with the family and 

 with Professor B. who did me the honor to call. 



After dinner the following day, when I was listening 

 to the interesting conversation of Col. J. M. P., Prof. S. 

 of the College made his appearance. To my great sur- 

 prise, he informed me that he had seen posted upon the 



trees in the campus that was in Ashland, and would 



meet the members of Washington Hall at 5 P. M. Soon 

 thereafter a co mmittee came down and formally invited me 

 to accompany them. I did not resist the appeal, and 

 soon entered the Hall. It rapidly filled with the boys, 

 and then I was introduced to their acquaintance by 

 Professor S.,of Connecticut. They wanted a speech— 

 and they got one. I commenced on a high key with the 

 words "Non in haze fcedera veni," and proceeded to 

 "rousticate," to the best of my skill, on whatever subject 

 came into my mind. I do not know what I said. It 

 might have been tolerably good, somewhat indifferent or 

 very bad, but it took. College boys make an appreciative 

 audience. They are easy to satisfy, they applaud 

 vociferously. After months of hard study, trying to 

 master Caesar or Horace, or to unlock the mysteries of 

 Taylor's or McLaurin's theories, anything is a relief, and 

 they welcome the arrival among them of a stranger who 

 can stand up and talk. The boys enjoyed my speech, 

 and I enjoyed then enjoyment. But speaking is not my 

 business now; "Othello's occupation's gone." I look 

 after spindles and looms and cotton, and am, as some 

 people say, a laboring man. When I was otherwise en- 

 gaged I loved to talk to boys — to college boys — and tell 

 them some things, partly jocular and partly serious, with 

 the view of pleasing and benefitting them. They always 

 welcome me, and I really think that a few days before 



the commencement at the bulk of the students at 



that institution are quite as much pleased to hear that I 

 would be in the chapel at morning prayers as they would 

 be to hear that John Robinson's or some other circus had 

 arrived with a full supply of acrobats, horses and clowns. 

 Well, hurrah for the ooysl 



Perhaps some one may ask me where I will begin to de- 

 scribe my hunt. I answer, not in this communication. 

 There was no hunt at all. I was ready, but the land was 

 not visible. It was hidden from my vision. I did not 

 see it. No doubt there was land somewhere, but it was 

 out of sight. My little gun was admired by everybody 

 because of its looks. They all thought it was capable of 

 doing its part. And so it was, but it did not perform. 



Leaving my generous friends on Tuesday morning, I 

 was soon in Richmond and that night at 7 o'clock I was in 

 Raleigh, the guest at the house of one of North Carolina's 

 noblemen, a gentleman well known to intelligent men 

 throughout the country, as one who is honest in all his 

 dealings and capable of discharging any trust with which 

 he may be invested. He and I have long known each 

 other and both have tried to "do the State some service." 

 He has succeeded. At present he occupies one of the 

 highest standings which the people can confer. We dis- 

 cussed matters of private business and some subjects 

 which pertain to the public. The following day my 

 duties called me to visit one of the public institutions 

 and to assist somewhat in its management. The next day 

 there was a similar demand and at night I was on the 

 train, bound for home. 



I do not regret my trip. It was an enjoyable one. 

 There was no hunting, it is true, but then I had pleasure. 

 I met with kind and hospitable people. If I had been 



