384 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[DEC. 6, 1888. 



comes here, depends the ebbing life of the place, and 

 yearly, as the latter trade grows less, in like ratio does the 

 pulse of the old town beat more feebly. 



The St. Marks Eiver is a beautiful little stream, not 

 over fifty yards in width, with a bottom of the hardest 

 lime-rock.* Alligators swarm in great numbers; and the 

 country through which it winds its upper course is said 

 to be an excellent game preserve, but we were unable to 

 explore it, leaving that for some trip in the future. 



The old fort that stands at the junction of the rivers 

 has a singular history. It is said to ha,ve been built by 

 the Spaniards at the same time as the one a.t St. Augus- 

 tine, and while it never compared in architecture with 

 the latter, yet the ruins exhibit much similarity of con- 

 struction. During the late war the Federal troops took 

 advantage of the yet firm old walls which had stood for 

 centuries, and made them a basis of operations, estab- 

 lishing a powder magazine of considerable size. Toward 

 the close of the war a member of one of the negro regi- 

 ments here stationed happened to be one day suffering 

 from a chill. Conceiving the brilliant idea of using one 

 of the bombshells from the magazine as a foot-warmer, 

 to mitigate the shaking of the ague, he rolled a shell to 

 the camp-fire and sat waiting until it should be warm 

 enough to give him the expected relief. History does 

 not state whether his feet are now sufficiently warrn, but 

 certain it is that he and eight of his fellow warriors died 

 in such a manner as to make burial an unnecessary not 

 to say impossible proceeding, while the tremendous explo- 

 sion that followed on this act of guileless innocence 

 wrecked a greater part of the remaining walls of the fort. 



Some years ago a marine hospital was built of the lime- 

 stone rocks of this twice used fort, but it did not prove a 

 success, and now this building, a massive two-storied 

 structure, stands in ruins on the ground where its stones 

 once beheld such varied and stirring scenes. 



We wandered for an hour among these thrice-crumbled 

 walls, a melancholy spot, with bits of masonry here and 

 there peeping out from under a tropical growth of pal- 

 mettos, and the foundations of great ramparts covered 

 over with wild rose bushes and the blossoming black- 

 berry: but enough of the old walls still stand stoutly as 

 ever amid the surrounding desolation, to attest that an 

 empire, once the greatest in the world, here held an out- 

 post. What tales these old stones could tell were they 

 but endowed with speech! Of how the gallant robbers of 

 Spain, with their nodding plumes and shining armor, 

 here landed and erected this defense, amid all that gor- 

 geous pomp with which new lands were dedicated to the 

 Catholic rule; and of countless combats with the natives 

 of the then unexplored "Land of Flowers." What laughs 

 and jests have been echoed back as over wine cups the 

 stalwart warriors forgot for a time their dangers and 

 sorrows and lived once more. Many a time, perhaps, 

 have the moss-covered stones softened the sounds of sad 

 requiems as some member of the gallant band was laid 

 away far from home and kindred. Then, abandoned for 

 centuries, the old fort lay decaying amid the unbroken 

 solitude of the marshes, given over to the alligator and 

 lizard, and occasionally, perhaps, giving refuge to some 

 piratical rover of the Gulf, till at last it greeted the more 

 soberly attired but not less gallant pioneers of a higher 

 civilization and became a second time the scene of blood- 

 shed, as it formed a combat ground for the contending 

 forces of the great civil war. Now, in a ruined hospital, 

 the same hard, imperishable limestone stands as a monu- 

 ment to the folly of some visionary, who erected a sani- 

 tarium here on a spot reeking with miasma. 



It is always a very difficult matter to obtain much ac- 

 curate information from the natives in regard to the past 

 of their country; not that they are taciturn or unsociable, 

 but the general apathy which lies over everything in 

 Florida, seems to have had its effect upon the memories; 

 and their recollections of even comparatively recent 

 events seem to be much clouded; and so it is that, per- 

 haps, this account of St. Marks and its interesting fort 

 is not as full as it should be, gathered as it was from wil- 

 ling but not brilliant historians. 



We did not remain over night in St. Marks, but cast off 

 moorings about four o'clock in the afternoon, and in com- 

 pany with some of the fleet that had been our com- 

 panions on the way up, sailed to our old anchorage off the 

 lighthouse, where we prepared ourselves for the night. 

 While supper was being cooked, Rusticus and I repaid 

 the visit of Santo's friends of the night before, and took 

 our introductory inspection of a sponger. It was not a 

 pleasant experience at first, for the odor from the decay- 

 ing animal matter was simply terrific; but in a short 

 time our noses became used to it, and we then looked in- 

 to the modus operandi* of this out of the way and but lit- 

 tle understood industry. A short account of which may 

 not prove uninteresting. 



The sponge reef of Florida begins a few miles east of 

 Apalachicola, and hugs the coast to within fifty miles of 

 Cedar Keys; then there is a break of 100 miles, after 

 which it reappears and runs south without interruption 

 to Key West and the Bahama Islands. This reef, a rocky 

 ridge, sometimes of genuine limestone, but generally of 

 coral, begins some six or eight miles from shore and con- 

 tinues out indefinitely; in fact, wherever there is a rocky 

 bottom sponges are said to be found, and the only reason 

 that the fisheries do not extend completely around the 

 Gulf coast is that in places, as off the coast of Texas or 

 Cedar Keys, this rocky bottom begins in water too deep 

 to permit of profitable sponging. 



The average depth of water on the St. Marks reef at six 

 miles from laud is 16ft. The sponges are in great abun- 

 dance and of good quality, being much better than those 

 from the coast of Mexico, but rather inferior to the Baha- 

 ma variety. The supply is practically inexhaustible, as 

 they grow almost as fast as gathered, a sponge requiring 

 only two years to reach maturity. 



The vessels used in the business are generally schooners 

 of about eight tons burden. They carry two small boats 

 or dinkies, and are manned by a crew of five. Provisions 

 are generally laid in for six weeks at a time, the usual 

 limit of a cruise. At the reef two men go to each of the 

 dinkies and the work begins. One slowly sculls around 

 by a stern oar, while his companion examines the bed 

 of the sea through a bucket with a glass bottom. This 

 simple contrivance is fastened to the side of the boat low 

 enough down to rest partially in the water, and by plac- 

 ing his head inside the bucket one can see with distinct- 

 ness objects at a depth of even 30ft. When a desirable 

 sponge is spied it is brought up by an iron hook fastened 

 on the end of a long pole. Herein lies the science of the 

 craft, the knowing how to hook a sponge without tearing- 



it all to pieces. A great deal of knack is requisite and is 

 to be acquired only after long practice; and good hookers 

 are always in much demand. Thus these men work on, 

 day after day, under the tropical sun that bums and 

 browns the skin until one cannot tell a white man from 

 a negro. It is a desperately hard life, more severe than 

 any other I have ever seen, and it requires men ot no 

 ordinary constitution to stand up to it. Naturally, then, 

 the spongers, as a race, are an exceedingly muscular set. 

 Four of the crew being thus employed the duty of the 

 fifth is to remain on the schooner and keep up with the 

 dinkies, so that in case of a squall or a broken oar, he 

 will be on hand to render prompt assistance. He also 

 does the cooking, mends ropes, lays out sponges and 

 plays the part of general utility man. 



In the evening the fruits of the day's labor are spread 

 out over the deck of the schooner, where they remain for 

 four or five days, until the gelatinous matter that forms 

 the life of the sponge putrefies. As may be imagined, 

 the odor on one of the vessels, when thus freighted, is 

 simply indescribable, but the sailors do not seem to mind 

 it and say that it is rather healthy than otherwise, though 

 I confess that I should prefer a little less health and 

 purer air. 



On Saturdays all boats go to land, and the sponges are 

 thrown into what are known as crawls, or cages of logs, 

 built on the shore of some inlet, where the rise and fall 

 of the tide permits the free ingress of fresh water. In 

 these pens the putrefying sponges remain for a week, 

 until the next visit of the schooner to land, by which 

 time the washing of the water has done away with most 

 of the animal substance. The next process is to cleanse 

 the sponge from any grit or dirt that may still cling to it. 

 This is accomplished by beating them with short wooden 

 paddles until all the sand or filth is loosened. A thor- 

 ough washing in several waters and a short bleaching in 

 the sun complete the first stages of preparation; and 

 having been strung on strings in bunches of twenty, the 

 sponges are now ready for the local market. 



The trade in Apalachicola , the principal port, is actively 

 sought after by the merchants, some of whom act as 

 agents for the large houses in the North, and when a 

 sponger comes in with a cargo, sealed bids are sent in by 

 the different buyers for the entire lot. The prices vary 

 with the condition of the market, but an average quota- 

 tion for a bunch of sponges, each one of which is half 

 the size of a man's head, is about a dollar and a half, 

 though bids often buy for much less. 



The cargo being sold, the proceeds are divided in the 

 following manner: First, the expenses for provisions 

 and necessaries are paid; then of the net earnings the 

 owner or owners of the schooner take one-third, and the 

 remainder is equally divided among the crew. Should 

 the owner of the vessel be one of the workers he receives 

 his fifth in addition to the hire of his craft. With aver- 

 age luck a crew will gather about 1,200 sponges a week — 

 they often exceed that figure. The general stay being 

 six weeks, a cargo will consist of some 7,000 sponges or 

 350 strings. These at $1.50 apiece make the gross earn- 

 ings amount to f 525; deducting $75 for expenses a net sur- 

 plus of $450 will be left, out of which the boat takes $150 

 and the sailors receive $60 apiece. It is small pay indeed 

 for such labor. Nothing on earth wears a man out so 

 soon as sponging. The weeks of toil beneath that burn- 

 ing sun, the tremendous exertion required to handle hook 

 or paddle ail day without rest, the scurvy-producing food 

 and stuffy water, and the deadly fevers that from their 

 retreats on the swamp-bound coast cast their malign 

 shadows far over the life-giving ocean itself — all these 

 form a combination of hardships unequaled in any other 

 pursuit. Italians are the larger element among these 

 toilers of the deep and are admirably adapted for the. 

 work, coming as they do from a semi-tropical land and 

 acclimated by residence in Florida. 



After they come from the schooners the sponges are 

 generally bleached by the Apalachicola merchants and 

 trimmed into a round shape. Then, having been sorted 

 according to different degrees of softness, they are packed 

 into bales of 100 each and shipped to the North. 



We remained in the vicinity of St, Marks Light for 

 several days, not that it was an especially attractive place 

 or that it afforded unusual shooting facilities, but because 

 it was a good point to watch the interesting processes, 

 from which we gathered much information in regard 

 to the sponge industry. During my stay I managed to 

 get pretty well acquainted with some of the sailors, and 

 on several occasions made short trips with them on their 

 odorous vessels, seeing for myself their methods and 

 gaining an insight into their characters. They are a 

 happy set in spite of the hard life, and seem to be in one 

 continual good humor all the time. How they do chat- 

 ter a way in their Italian patois, and laugh and joke with 

 each other as though they had not a care on earth. They 

 are all the most devout of Roman Catholics, and even their 

 arduous duties do not interfere with the strict observance 

 of the forms of their religion. What a hold Romanism 

 has on its followers. A Catholic of any station of life is 

 always true to his faith through thick and thin and boldly 

 acknowledges his belief before the whole world, not in the 

 half-ashamed way of members of other denominations, 

 but with the assurance of a man who knows what he is 

 about. Ales. M. Reynolds. 



|~TO BE CONTINUED.] 



THE CHARMS OF BEAUFORT. 



The following notes, written in April, 1888, may not be untimely 

 now, when people are looking toward the South and planning 

 for a stay in a warmer climate. 



BEAUFORT, S. C, April 28, 1888. — As I write I can 

 hardly realize that I am within a little over a day's 

 journey from the scenes described in my home letters, 

 received from central New York this day. They des- 

 cribe to me the "falling of snow,'* "cold "wind," "hot- 

 beds snow-covered," and "roads from the country so 

 snow blocked that the farmers find difficulty in reaching 

 town." But I am sitting, clad in thin flannel, in the 

 open air on a, piazza, reading, writing and, in turn, 

 dreamily gazing upon the scenery before me. At my 

 front to the southward, for six or seven miles, extends a 

 broad expanse of blue water, its surface broken here and 

 there by the summit grass of marsh islands, for the tide 

 is in. To my right and left, as far as the dense foliage of 

 live and water oak, magnolia and pride of India will per- 

 mit my view, it is the same; for at this point the Beau- 

 fort River, whose general course is north and south, 

 makes a sharp bend to eastward, and the elbow forms a 



handsome bay, the water reaching to within 16yds. of 

 where I sit. 



Across this bay, about two miles away, white mansions 

 peep here and there from the green foliage which skirts 

 the entire bay. At my immediate front are splendid 

 trees, at my left a beautiful garden, luxuriant in its 

 quantity and variety of flowers, among which roses of 

 many kinds and of rare size and fragrance predominate. 



The porch of the house at my left — that of Col. Elliott, 

 M.C., is draped with a wreath of climbing roses and 

 honeysuckles, such as are rarely seen. The still life of 

 the flowers is relieved by the constant flitting to and fro 

 of bright scarlet cardinals, bluebirds and woodpeckers 

 and the pets of the parish, the sober -hued mockingbird. 



The blue surface of the water is rippled now by little 

 caps of white, and the white sails of the fishing and 

 pleasure boats are beginning to glide rapidly, for the sea 

 breeze has made; and at this nature-favored spot that 

 luxury never fails, the hottest day of summer changes by 

 noon to a most pleasant temperature; miasma is swept 

 away, and failing energies revived by the cooling sea 

 breeze, which makes of afternoon and evening a season 

 of enjoyment; of night one of repose. Coming a dozen 

 miles from the ocean, it has driven through the sturdy 

 branches of the live and water oaks, tossed thousands of 

 magnolia blossoms, ruffled great beds of roses and other 

 flowers and the rich grasses of the points and islands it 

 has passed over, enriching them with its saline particles, 

 and receiving in turn rich freight of their mingled 

 fragrance. 



I am listening to sweet music. As I write— with pad 

 in lap, my feet in true American style resting on the rail 

 of the piazza— there came a little inquisitive gray visitor, 

 who, with head jerking from side to side, and long tail 

 up and down, hopped nearer and nearer, until within 

 two yards of my quiescent feet. Evidently he wanted to 

 be sociable, and gave little half notes of welcome, changed 

 suddenly into the music of a being- wound-up Waterbury 

 watch, as another mocker pounced on him and inaugu- 

 rated a row, ending by their separation , one to a live oak 

 on my left, the other to aChinaberry on my right, neither 

 two rods away; and there they sit singing, either at each 

 other or at me, for all they are worth. Tame and plenti- 

 ful as robins North, the mockingbirds are in every tree, 

 and keep the air filled with melody, building their nests 

 in jasmin-covered porches, within hand reach of the 

 families whom they fa vor. 



If any letters descriptive of this most beautiful part of 

 our spring and winter resorts have been published in 

 these columns, I do not remember to have seen them; 

 hence I consider myself fortunate that in spite of the 

 great strength of your new corps of prospectors, gathering 

 rich treasure for the Forest and Stream, it has been left 

 for Piseco to claim and locate this rich mine, a very 

 placer, for in all directions are lying nuggets ready for 

 the pan. 



In their seasons the hunters of deer and foxes have rare 

 sport following the hounds, of which there are excellent 

 packs, owned and run by whole-souled fellows, to whom 

 a stranger of the right kind is an honored and favored 

 guest. And very rarely is the deer or fox chase a blank. 

 Fourteen foxes have rewarded the last six runs of Cap- 

 tain Richardson and Colonel Darlington's pack, and fre- 

 quently Master Reynard is jumped within a mile or two 

 of the city of Beaufort. Foxes are on all the islands, as 

 are rabbits and quail; deer on Hilton Head, Hunting 

 Island, and on the mainland. 



In August the summer ducks come, and are followed 

 by many varieties throughout the winter; and there are 

 well-known stands among the reserve waters of the rice 

 fields on the mainland. Partridges (quail) are abundant, 

 and an afternoon's work is considered a poor one that 

 averages less than two dozen to a gun. There are plenty 

 of good dogs, the pointer being the favorite. 



Beginning in March, fishing is good until late autumn. 

 First come the whiting and blackftsh, found everywhere, 

 and most excellent pan fish; then about the middle of 

 March, staying until the middle of May, the drumfish, 

 ranging from 20 to 901bs. weight, and of these I have 

 seen the boats return with nearly 200 in one day's fishing. 

 They are caught first and mostly in the deep Broad River, 

 in 20 to 30ft, of water, the bait being prawn, crabs and 

 clams, valuable in the order given. The prawns come 

 and go with the drumfish, and are succeeded by shrimp, 

 which are the best bait for the fish that come and go with 

 them, viz., the striped bass and squeteague (trout). In 

 the fall there is excellent surf fishing for the bass and 

 trout. So in a general way this is for a sportsman a most 

 charming place in which to while away the snow season, 



I have been here since the 1st inst. and can but regret 

 that I knew nothing of the place, its delightful climate 

 and many resources much earlier, and that fate thus kept 

 me during stormy March in Aiken. The famed dry air 

 of that place (however grateful to those whose weakened 

 lungs require it) wnth its load of dust and clay, driven by 

 the keen March winds through every crevice and cranny, 

 with which Southern wooden houses are generally well 

 provided, is anything but pleasant to many, of whom I 

 am one. Ah- can be too dry. The much vaunted pine 

 groves of Aiken are rapidly yielding to the demand of 

 the wood-burning locomotives; favorite rides or drives 

 through them must be preceded by long pilgrimages 

 over wretched dusty roads, with on either hand embryo 

 cotton or cornfields, whitewashed shanties, pigs and 

 darky young ones for scenery. The streams and ponds 

 are dwindling, the air, already dry enough, becomes too 

 dry. The March winds, although not so robust as before 

 their journey South, are keen, and their thinness gives 

 them entrance. 



Aiken has certain great advantages over Beaufort, as 

 first-class hotels and the crowd of pleasure as well as 

 health-seeking clever people who meet there. It is a 

 neutral point, where two great tides of travel meet, as 

 later on at Old Point — the flood from bleak New England 

 to avoid the cold, the ebb from sunny Florida to avoid the 

 increasing heat. 



Beaufort has not these attractions; it is not well adver- 

 tised, few Northern tourists know of it, and its only hotel 

 has not as yet earned a reputation, that does much toward 

 draAving; it is off the direct line of travel, and at this sea- 

 son very few not drawn by business seek it. Later in 

 summer, Southern people from the inland cities and from 

 the malarious plantations on the mainland, come to Beau- 

 fort as a watering place. 



Beaufort has a very poor and vicarious market, and 

 only those who, like myself, are willing to accept the 

 fish, crabs, oysters and terrapin, and other sea fruit as 



