Nov. 11, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



40B 



grass. We went on till we came to a space of some forty 

 or fifty acres that was neither lake nor marsh, but par- 

 taking of the nature of both and called by the woodsmen 

 Lac Rat Musque or Muskrat Lake. It was all covered with 

 these cane rushes and lilies, with from 1 to 3ft. of water. 

 When I first found it one season before th e water was 

 lower and it was with difficulty we could pass in the 

 canoe. I had been to the head of this chain of lakes — 

 there are nine of them — but in going up we had portaged 

 from one lake to another and had avoided Lac Rat Musque 

 altogether. 



Coming down we followed the outlets of the lakes, and 

 so discovered this place. It was in goiag up that I found, 

 all at once, great quantities of these lilies that I had never 

 seen before in all this region. Nor outside this chain 

 have I ever seen any about here with the exception of one 

 little clump of a dozen or so of flowers at a spot on 

 connecting waters, but some miles away. None of my 

 companions, who at that time were all Canadians, had 

 ever seen them before. At that time we left them as sud- 

 denly as we found them, for below the discharge of Lac 

 Rat Musque we did not discover one single specimen. On 

 this trip, however, we found a few further down. 



At this lake, after gathering all the lilies we wanted, we 

 turned back, passing the same lakes and streams, but 

 making better time, and reaching camp in time for a late 

 supper, with our invalid none the worse for her long day's 

 jaunt. 



So on the whole, Mr. Editor, even if you should find a 

 boat combining all the qualities mentioned, I think I will 

 not part with my good old bark canoe just yet, but live in 

 hopes to take some other party over the same route on an 

 equally enjoyable occasion. G. De Montaitban. 



Quebec, Canada. 



ALLIGATORS ON THE ANCLOTE. 



On the 32d of March, 1893, a party of guests of the 

 Eavey House, Ozena, Florida, took the train for Tarpon 

 Springs, a winter resort situated on the Anclote River, 

 about four miles above its confluence with the Gulf of 

 Mexico. We chartered the little steamer Belle, and com- 

 menced our voyage up the wildest and most beautiful 

 stream that we have ever navigated. 



The Anclote River, like all Florida rivers, is of a dark 

 brown color, but the tiny caps of its mimic waves and the 

 foam from the bows of our steamer were a bright yellow. 

 In all of our experience we have never seen a river so 

 crooked; indeed, from start to finish we could not see 

 more than 200ft. ahead from any given point. Twice we 

 saw a stream on our right and asked our captain, "What 

 river is that?" "That's the Anclote; we shall make a big 

 horseshoe and soon be over there." 



"Why not cut a channel across here, at the nearest 

 point, and thus save a mile that it takes to go around this 

 big horseshoe." 



"Ah! that would not only destroy the beauty of the 

 river, but destroy our business too." 



We steamed around horseshoes, and made curves and 

 reverse curves through the taU water grasses, wild rice 

 and palmetto chaparal, until we had gone three miles, 

 and found that our starting point was only one half of a 

 mile distant in a straight line. What a paradise this 

 river must be for geese, ducks and other wild game birds, 

 in the proper season. 



We are eagerly watching and waiting for alligators. 

 Very soon we hear a noise in the tall grass, and directly 

 an 8ft. ' 'gator" toddles down the bank and tumbles into 

 the water, making a great splash. 



On we wind through the tall grass, and in making a 

 short bend, come on to a large gator standing on the 



m'PPED GBOUSE OM NEST. 



From photo by A. C. Mclntyre. 



bank, and our appearance was so sudden, that he stood 

 stock still, seeming to be too dazed to move. There he 

 stood as rigid and stiflE as if he was carved from a block 

 of marble, and although we hallowed and blew the steam 

 whistle, he remained stationary, and as we steamed 

 around a bend, the last we saw of him was his enormous 

 head, standing out in bold relief. Our captain said he 

 was 12ft. long. 



We now leave the prairie scenery and plunge into 

 dense timber. The stately palmettoes, that grow from 50 

 to 80 ft. high without limb or bush until the topis reached, 

 where long, green bows hang down, looking in the dis- 

 tance like great umbrellas, were numerous. The tall 

 moaning pines towered above the palmettoes and the 

 gnarled water oaks lined the banks of the river, with 

 their long limbs intertwined above our heads, forming a 

 mass of foUage covered with dark gray moss, which 

 hung in pendants and festoons, and swung back and 

 forth, sweeping the awning of our steamer as we passed 

 tlirough this enchanting scenery. 



A great artist had told us that there'are no straight 

 lines in nature, that her hues are aU fdrawn on graceful 

 curves a.nd all in harmony one with another. These 



thoughts came to us as we passed a cove in a bend of the 

 river, completely covered with the overhanging trees and 

 moss. The water shades of the trees were weU defined 

 in the depths below; indeed, every limb, bush and leaf 

 were faithfully reproduced, even to the many shades and 

 tints of green and brown, making up a scene of enchant- 

 ing beauty that we shall long remember. How crude and 

 incomplete are all landscape paintings when compared to 

 nature's own work. We hunt for straight lines and find 

 none, for we found all the lines were drawn on graceful 

 and harmonious arcs and curves. 



We now plow into a forest so dense that the sun is ex- 

 cluded. The moaning pines and the water oak trees close 

 in on each side and interlock their branches over our 

 heads, making us think that the great king of day was 

 about to retire for the night. 



The river became more narrow but still deep and slug- 

 gish. Water snakes could be seen here and there, and 

 numerous small mud turtles and lizards tumbled into the 

 water at our approach. 



"There's one!" said the captain. "Where?" "Right 



HEAD OF BLACKTAn, DEKR. 



dead ahead, I will run him down, for he is sleeping on 

 the water." Sure enough, there was a 10ft. "gator" fast 

 asleep directly under our bow. We came near striking 

 him with the cut-water of the steamer, but he makes the 

 water boil in his frantic efforts to give us a wide berth. 



We arrived at a point above the tide line, where the 

 water is no longer salty. The captain takes a drink from 

 the bilious river, and offers us a glass of the vile stuff. 

 We decline and tell him in all gravity that water snakes 

 and other amphibious animals lay their tiny eg-gs in such 

 streams, when the heat of the sun would hatch them out, 

 and that there were many well authenticated cases where 

 men had drank such water, swallowing the tiny eggs, and 

 that years afterward Uve snakes had been taken from 

 their stomachs. What did the captain say? He said, 

 "m take another drink, just for luck, you know," and 

 with a broad grin he drank it. You might just as well 

 try to drown a mallard duck by pouring water on his 

 back, as to try to change the opinion of a Florida 

 "skipper." 



We finally reached the end of navigation, where we 

 landed for a few moments for the the passengers to gather 

 wild flowers and water lilies. 



The scribe did not go into the jungle, for wliile it is 

 very pleasant to hunt alUgators and snakes from the 

 deck of a steamer, it is quite another thing to hunt 

 these animals on shore; besides, the scribe had lost no 

 'gators nor rattlers, and did not have to hunt them up. 



We barely have room to turn our steamer in the nar- 

 row stream, and begin the return trip. We had ' 'bagged" 

 (in our minds) 10 alligators on our way up, and we saw 

 6 more on our way down, making 16 that we saw, rang- 

 ing from 4 to 12ft. in length. 



About six miles from Tarpon Springs we pass an ice 

 factory, and make some inqmries about ice makintr. 

 Manufacturing ice involves a great expense. First, a 

 good artesian well is a necessity, as common rain or well 

 water will not answer the purpose, as even the artesian 

 water has to be evaporated before congealing. All rain , 

 well or spring water contains so much air that it cannot 

 be used in manufacturing ice; for if made from the above 

 water and exposed to the sim's rays, it will instantly 

 crack into small pieces; while the condensed and con- 

 gealed artesian water will remain very hard, keep a long 

 time and is as clear and white as a piece of rock crystal. 

 The capacity of this factory is twenty tons per day, and 

 the ice is used largely in fishing vessels to keep their catch 

 sweet tmtil they reach a market. 



"There's one!" "Where?" "Off the port bow." We 

 look ahead our left and see a large 'gator standing in shal- 

 low water, exposing his head and back to view. Was 

 there ever so homely and ugly an animal created as the 

 alligator? He looks for aU the world like an old rotten 

 log. He sees us and makes for deep water. 



Soon after we pass a mammoth pine tree, and way up 

 in the tip top we saw an eagle's nest, with the old eagle 

 feeding the young. The eagle builds' its nest in the loftiest 

 trees, using coarse sticks, which are interlaced and woven 

 around the upper limbs, and w hen done it is shaped hke 

 a large bowl, about three feet in diameter: and this home 

 is so well constructed that one nest will last during the 

 lifetime of the pair that build it. They continue to use 

 the same nest year after year, and the young birds pair 

 off and set up housekeeping on their own account. 



From Tarpon Springs to our tm-ning point, as the bird 

 flies is six miles, but by the meandering river it ia four- 

 teen miles, thus making the round trip twenty-eight 

 miles. 



In no other river in Florida are the alligators so numer- 

 ous or large as in the Anclote River. For the past ten 

 years they have been much hunted for their skins and 

 teeth until they have become very scarce; but on the 

 Anclote River the steamboat men wiU not let their pas- 

 sengers shoot from their boats, and the result is that the 

 'gators are not much afraid of the little puffing and 

 wheezing steamboats; but once let them hear the rattle 

 and splash of the hunters in their rowboats and they will 



keep below the water and out of sight. The steamer is a 

 friend to the 'gator and the 'gator is a bonanza to the 

 steamer, R. P. B. 



PARRICO THE PARROQUET. 



Paerico would sit with his white beak buried in the' 

 down on his back, and give no sign of life before I wotdd 

 show that I was awake. He would chirp questioningly, 

 when I parted the curtains of my bed to look at my 

 watch, then would settle his nose among his feathers 

 again if I turned over for another nap. He would not 

 utter another peep, even if half the morning passed and 

 he was half famished, before I put aside those lace 

 draperies and got out of bed. But he would chirp sharply 

 the instant my feet touched the jaguar skin that served as 

 a rug, and he would give his plumage a shake that sent 

 flying a little cloud of white scales that had been loosened 

 from his feathers. Then, he would shriek "cafe, cafe," 

 until silenced by a bit of cake or of fruit, or, better still, 

 by a sup of the coffee he so dearly loved. 



Usually I opened the shutters of the high window, as 

 soon as I arose, and let a flood of sunlight pour in, to faU 

 on my bed and the snow white wall beyond, and light up 

 the shelves of books, the pictures on the walls and the 

 warm, dark red of the tiled floor. As soon as the window 

 was opened, Paricco would drop whatever he might have 

 in his claws, and dance to and fro along the rotmd stick 

 which, its end driven into a crack in the ancient post of 

 yellow pine, served as his perch. If I did not promptly 

 transfer him to the window ledge, he would squall vocif- 

 erously. If I did put him there he would shout "cafe, 

 cafe, cafe," until the girl would come from the kitchen, 

 sometimes to scold him for making so much noise so early 

 in the morning, and often with the tray whereon were 

 the little pitcher of black coffee, the roUa and the tin 

 coffee-pot of scalding hot milk. 



Parrico was scarcely larger than a sparrow, and — ^let us 

 hope that he is— quite as courageous, energetic and 

 belligerent as is that dirty brown intruder on the rights 

 of native Americans. His pet passion was hatred of 

 Juan, my mozo, who swept and dusted, arranged books 

 and papers, made my bed and brought water each morn- 

 ing. 



It was a great convenience for Parrico that his perch 

 was an inch higher than the top of Juan's head was 

 when he stood erect; for whenever the boy would pass 

 beneath the perch the bird would seize upon the curls, 

 and with his wings violently beat Juan's black plate, to 

 the great enjoyment of all beholders. Great was the joy 

 and pride of the bird when his enemy retired, vanquished 

 and crestfallen, as he did every morning. 



Whenever I sat down to write, Parrico instantly gave 

 up whatever occupation he might have, and begged with 

 imploring little squeaks, to be allowed to help me. He 

 would even leave his coffee, to perch upon the tail of the 

 bronze lion that was my paper-weight, and from that 

 vantage oversee' my work. And when, for reasons he 

 never explained, my work did not suit him, he would 

 scramble down from his roost and climb upon my wrist, 

 then with his bill seize my penholder, and most earnestly 

 struggh- to move my pen so as to express the message he 



PINTO BLACKTAII. DEER. 



had for the world. It is a pity that he was not taught 

 penmanship in his early youth. Perhaps my pen was too 

 big and clumsy; at all events his writing never was quite 

 legible, not even when I let the pen move as freely as 

 possible, under his guidance. But Parrico seemed to be 

 more than satisfied with the results of his attempt at 

 writing, and when he had done enough he would clamber 

 up to his place on the tail of the lion, and dress his smooth, 

 brim suit of green, then settle down in quiet content. 



He had one great trouble in an otherwise happy life. 

 We would go out on the corrider to eat our breakfasts 

 and our dinners; and I would leave him on the table or 

 on a chair or other place from which he could climb down 

 to the floor. He would first protest angrily against being- 

 left behind, then piteously plead to be taken along; 

 finally would get down to the floor by whatever route 

 seemed the safest. When the secure ground of the tiled 

 floor was reached, he would run to the door that opened 

 on the end of the veranda, in plain sight of the table, the 

 abundant food, and — more tempting, more to be desired, 

 tanall else — the plate of yellow butter. It was wildly ex- 

 citing. It was worth every possible effort and all risks. 

 That table, that butter must be reached. There wag 



