Jan. 11, 18U6.J 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
27 
rather surprised shortly to find so many gathered there, as 
we had only invited three girls, and we rather wondered 
whether such an invitation included their whole connec- 
tions. Two were ready, the third we saw driving down 
the Btreet accompanied by a portly uncle. Fearing for 
the ship's safety above water did all present purpose going 
out, it was with great relief that one by one they began, 
' lite those in the Bible story, to offer pressing business or 
i other affairs as excuses, until at last, as those Spanish 
clouds rolled away, there only remained to our affrighted 
vision two Spanish full moons in two mamas and three 
Cuban stars, the ones our telescopic eyes of the night 
before had picked out from the gathered nebulas of the 
I ballroom space. These sufficed to occupy the only two 
[carriages we had been able to secure, leaving us to walk. 
[At a sign to Mac (and never did I realize the possibility of 
la sign language until that Cuban voyage) we were off. 
■However, the distance was short and the gig large, so in 
[safety we conveyed our jolly party out to lunch. The 
[Capitain, the handsomest man by far we saw in Cuba, 
,catne out later. Once on board, what with punch to cool 
[the heated brow — for it was very hot — and music from 
[our music box to gladden the spirit, helped by a phrase 
[book, "Spanish at a Glance," ours was a merry party, 
[The Capitain, in broken English, offered a toast to the 
[ladies, the United States, America, England, and then, 
[fearing he had forgotten some one, said, "To the whole 
[world." We were very loath to see his gig, with its eight 
[men rowing, come out for them; but all good times must 
wave an ending, and with the salute we fired as they 
Irowed away we weighed anchor and were off for Nassau. 
Laying our course N. E, £ E. for Elbow Cay Light, 
eighty-two miles distant across Nicholas Channel, the 
mountains of Cuba showed plainly at first and then like 
bhe shore faded away in a blue tint which made sea and 
3ky one, and we were out on the broad expanse of mighty 
water. A full round moon soon showed a silvery head 
above the horizon like some mighty monster out of the 
deep, and shining almost in our course seemed a path 
along the sea. For many hours I gazed at the sublime 
majesty of it all and felt with him who said: "To those 
only who go down to the sea in ships are God's works 
Bully understood." In a glassy sea we passed Elbow Cay 
Rjight on Salt Cay Bank and then steered across Santaren 
Channel to the Great Bahama Bank, which we reached 
In about latitude 24° 33', equal to Key West, and .longi- 
tude 79° 14' w. All the next morning, course N. E. by N., 
bver a rippled sea with the bottom of the ocean, 12 to 15ft. 
B^ep, we steamed along in view of white coral sands. 
[Never was a prettier run made across the Bahama Banks 
fco the Great Stirrup Cay Light at the entrance to the N. 
[W. Providence Channel, and when at 12:15 that night we 
propped anchor in Nassau's transparent harbor (a run of 
B20 miles from Matanzas) we felt indeed a pleasant voyage 
fvas over for a day and our longer journey itself drawing 
lo a close. 
I Clean as a new pin was the town displayed to our eyes 
with morning's sun, and, warping in to the stone dock, 
short time elapsed before a crowd had gathered. Select- 
ng a bright, clean, two-seated carriage, with a negro 
{river dressed all in white duck, we drove uptown to the 
ioyal "Victoria Hotel. Of white coral formation, the 
whole island roads and streets present a dazzling brilliancy 
rery trying to one's eyes, but the change from dirty 
3uban cities was most agreeable. The sun was very hot, 
md but for the cool breeze from the water would have 
iqualed Cuba. The strange trees arrayed in vivid green 
jast welcome shade. The foliage and trees themselves 
ivere of more different varieties from what I had seen 
iny where, but of especial beauty were the large leaves 
m the almonds, green on top and red beneath. A silk- 
jotton tree with roots like horses' stalls was shown as a 
lative curiosity. The smooth road caused no jolting as we 
|ped along the shore some three miles out ot town, pass- 
hg many charming little villas on the slight hill which 
larallels the bay. Cocoanut trees surrounded many 
louses, but sisal growing has set all Nassau wild, and 
phat appeared to be gardens of century plants abounded 
Iverywhere. The three forts protecting the settlement 
ire deserted, leaving to Great Britain's many cruisers the 
are of this ward of hers. Eoglish supremacy here at 
3ast seems to speak good ruling, though I understand that 
aany would like the Bahama Islands to belong to the 
Jnited States and to be called a county of Florida or 
reorgia. When we annex Hawaii and Cuba perhaps we 
rill then talk of the Bahamas; meanwhile there is still 
ome land left out West for our growing population. 
Turning home we drove by an inner road through 
legro settlements with huts identical to those in Africa, 
Thence perhaps some of the old folks had come them- 
elves. I do know they speak a language of their own, 
or in the market I could not understand or be understood 
y several I spoke with. 
At the hotel where we rested awhile everything 
ppeared clean and well kept, showing good management 
n the part of those in charge. A familiar face far from 
ome was found in that of the hotel clerk last seen in 
barge of the Manhasott House at Shelter Island. 
Though my wandering spirit was willing to roam about 
le pretty settlement, my whole being longed for a bath 
a the delightful surf I knew was beating across the bay 
q the coral shore. The distance to Hog Island, a narrow 
irip of island separating the bay from the ocean, cannot 
e over 400yds. The island itself is perhaps 200yds. wide, 
dth what proved to be a smooth white sand on the ocean 
Ide. Quickly divesting myself of my clothing, I accepted 
le dashing invitation of the waves and waded into the 
lost glorious clear and warm salt water I ever bathed in. 
here to my great relief I disported with comfort akin to 
liss. _ Cooled at last and arrayed in clean duck clothes 
nd linen, I wandered awhile in the large orange and 
ocoanut grove on that island by the sea. Glorious fruit 
i was too, great large oranges big as your two fists, and 
II the fresh cocoanut milk you can drink (for those who 
ke it— I don't). One especially beautiful cocoanut tree 
ad over 500 nuts growing in bunches, some ripe and ready 
) fall, others small as hickory nuts. 
The proprietor's business in town was as a sponge mer- 
hant, and in trimming the raw sponges a great deal of 
/aste accumulated in pieces from an inch to 5in. long, 
'hese he put to a use which struck me as very excellent, 
'he ground all through the grove was literally covered 
rith the fragments packed about the tree roots, in places 
foot deep. These absorbed the dew and against the sun's 
ays held moisture for a good part of the day. This could 
nly be practiced by such a merchant, for at $1.50 to $2.50 
er pound sponges would be rather an expensive means 
of irrigation to others. I ordered a thousand oranges 
brought over to the boat, at the steep price of one cent 
each. And these, in huge sisal baskets, with bunches of 
bananas, pineapples, green turtles and crates of Cuban 
quail, rapidly began to give the space aft on the yacht the 
appearance of a Bahama fruiter. Attracted by the elec- 
tric lights in the cabin and the search light on the bridge, 
like moths (only black) little native boys gathered about 
in small boats during the evening, giving us a serenade, 
rather discordant, it is true. 
Having in remembrance old Samson Stamp, of Key 
West, the discoverer of the Sea Gardens at Nassau, we 
took a pilot and sailboat the following morning and 
sailed some four miles up the channel. There we disem- 
barked in a row boat with a glass bottom, made by insert- 
ing therein plates of thick glass, through which the bot- 
tom of the sea spread out before us like dry land. A 
strange feeling crept over me, and in imagination I fan- 
cied myself with Jules Verne on the voyage of "Twenty 
Thousand Leagues under the Sea." We could see all the 
little fishes, minnows lin. long, and larger kinds 1ft., 2ft. 
and 3ft. in length, some white and black and blue; besides 
many angelfish, all yellow like a canary, with bright blue 
fins and tail, swam by beneath us. Like the ripe wheat 
fields in summer sway to the breeze, so there in the Bub- 
marine currents waved great bunches of fan leaf coral, 
purple, yellow and white. The water was clear as air, 
and pointing to some especially beautiful specimens of 
rock and fans, our little darky dove over, and, like the 
fish, we could see him Bwimming down until at last, 
clutching the growth with two hands and feet firmly 
braced against the coral, he gave a tug and away he came 
to the top, fan in hand. Indeed, God hath wrought mar- 
velous things in this world of His, but nothing of greater 
bewitching fancy than the Sea Gardens of Nassau. 
When night came and before the moon was up a drive 
of two miles back on New Providence Island brought us 
to a most interesting work of nature. A lake some 
1,000ft. long by 300ft. wide lay quiet and black as any 
other sheet of water at night might do. But once in a row 
boat and shoved off from shore what a mighty change 
was wrought. Two small out-swimmers, the hue of the 
surrounding darkness, accompanied our boat of fire, for 
such it seemed. Like two human torches our darkies 
swam by our side as in a cloud of phosphorescent fire; at 
the slightest disturbance the whole surrounding water lit 
up like molten silver. Each boy's toes and fingers were 
as though the sun shone on them and fish darted through 
the quiet water like sky rockets, leaving a glittering trail 
behind. The light was so vivid I could see the time by 
my watch, and when a wave was sent upward with the 
oar the falling drops were like blue-tinted pearls. The 
movement of our boat made enough light to plainly show 
the bottom, for the water is from the ocean and as clear 
as all that which nature makes to flow about those lovely 
Bahamas. Enticed by the water's warmth and the hot 
night my friend and I went in swimming, but only for a 
few minutes. From this swim comes a story hard to be- 
lieve, but as true as Gospel. That night, as was my cus- 
tom before turning in, I went to the bath room, which I 
could easily darken, to change some photo plates in my 
holders. When about to pull the slides I noticed the 
phosphoresence, which I had brought from the lake, shin- 
ing from my bare feet, and giving so much white fight I 
had to cover them with a towel before I dared expose the 
plates to what a moment before had been intense dark- 
ness. 
. We took a short drive next morning to an interesting 
sisal hemp plantation, seeing there the leaves cut, 
shredded and baled for shipment. This plantation was 
about two miles long; but the place is on Andros Island, 
some 20,000 acres, so I am told, and owned by Joseph 
Chamberlain, the well-known English statesman. Pine- 
apple plantations thrive, it seems, better on the other 
islands; but how the poor fellows, at 2 cents a dozen 
(the price in summer), make anything surprises me. 
Nassau's best days, however, are gone. During the war, 
when cotton was 8 cents a pound in Charleston and $1 to 
$1,50 per pound in gold at Nassau, then it was that one 
successful run of the blockade paid for a ship and cargo, 
and two or three lucky runs made captain and owner rich 
men. So sure were the runners that Mr. Ulmo, who was 
all through it, told us they advertised the night in which 
they would leave Charleston or Savannah. The streets of 
Nassau then were ali ve with Southerners and Englishmen, 
captains of British and Federal men-of-war, and money 
ran like water. Everybody made money. The settle- 
ment paid its debt in one year, and one little shipyard 
(now the orange grove I wrote about) made for its owner 
$350,000 in four years. These were days you read about 
which will never come again. 
On the 15th of March, in the afternoon, we sailed away 
toward home across a sea smooth and reflecting as a mir- 
ror. It was warm as a summer's night; no one turned in 
until very late, and when we did we had all port-holes open 
for there was no fear of incoming waves. Next day was 
as bright and clear, but toward night the wind began 
to blow out of the north, and by midnight no one was 
asleep, but sat about the cabin or their rooms holding on 
To what, you ask, did they try to hold on to? Well, supl 
per and anything which appeared nailed down.. I went on 
the bridge awhile, but the yacht dipped down and threw 
waves all over, drenching constantly the captain and man 
at the wheel. Thinking to be secure back over the en- 
gine room talking to Mr, Ulmo, I was there hardly a 
minute when one wave landing on the bridge bounced 
off and soaked me. The decks ran 2 to 3in. deep with 
water. Our banana and orange grove aft was a sight 
The poor green turtles even were seasick. Had it not 
been for the iron storm shutters the whole front cabin 
would have been crushed in. How welcome the gleam 
across the sea our objective St. Augustine's light cast only 
those who were there can know. Only fifty-two miles 
more to Fernandina. But against that sea and wind 
quarter headway was all the captain dared to give, and 
how the hours dragged by until daylight. With day 
came a big Clyde ship bound to Jacksonville. She fairly 
seemed to fly past us and all her passengers and crew 
seemed on deck, wondering no doubt what we were doing 
out there, as every now and then we sank almost out of 
view behind some huge, curling crested wave. Eleven 
hours we battled against the storm, until at last, safely 
across the Fernandina bar, we cast anchor off Cumber- 
land Island. There "Sinuous northward, sinuous south- 
ward, by a world of marsh that bordered a world of sea " 
the house at Dungeness loomed up, and we felt the danger 
passed and a voyage long to be remembered was ended, 
Go ye, oh ye yachtsmen, and do likewise. There are 
no fairer seas to travel over, and if you regret doing so 
you are not moulded in the same flesh as he who sub- 
scribes himself Graham F. Biandy. 
THE LOST MAN. 
Who is this waif of the woodland, the "Lost Man?" 
Where does he hail from and where is he heading for? 
How does he manage to exist for weeks, perhaps months, 
at a time, in the depths of the wilderness, without food, 
fire or weapon of any kind? Is he sane or insane? 
As a member of the party into whose astonished pres- 
ence this modern Rip Van Winkle ushered himself with- 
out much ceremony at Pond's camp, near the Dungarvon 
River, on the night of July 12 last, I have been much 
interested in my friend Irland's description of that strange 
event, as well as in the account given by other corre- 
spondents of his appearance in September at Upper Mill- 
noket Lake, in Maine. The subject has been so ably 
handled by these gentlemen that I shall only offer a few 
general comments. Perhaps the advertising which the 
old fellow is receiving in Forest and Stream may result 
in his condition and whereabouts being brought to the 
notice of relatives or friends, if he has any, who would 
take care of him. 
It is not a source of wonder to the undersigned that our 
gay and festive friends on the Upper Millnoket found him 
a hard nut to crack. It made me smile audibly to read 
about that cross-examination and to picture them bring- 
ing their mental artillery into action. It was just our 
own seance at Pond's Camp all over again. For the space 
of three hours during that never-to-be-forgotten night in 
J uly, when Chaos and the Night dealt the old chap out 
to us, we raked him fore and aft with every conceivable 
question. As the light of the camp-fire flickered away, 
the boys one by one gave it up, and at last I too was 
obliged to meander to my bunk very little wiser than 
before. The conclusions I drew from the interview were 
somewhat as follows: 
The man's name is Torrens— at least he clearly stated 
so. He is of American birth. He said he was "raised 
over on the Kenawten." I spell the name, if there is such 
a name, as he pronounced it, never having seen it in 
print. His references to the war between the North and 
South, which was still a live issue with him, indicated 
that he had served in that war, or had been at the time 
within the area of active military operations. His 
statement that he had killed a quail which wasn't as big 
as a pheasant the day before he met our party tended, I 
think, to show that he had hailed from one of the Middle 
or Southern States. The absence of the nasal twang 
peculiar to the New England Yankee is some evidence in 
the same direction. 
His mind was very much occupied with religious mat- 
ters. A small Catholic Bible was the only article of any 
kind he had in his possession except the rusty axe he 
found in the brook. His conversation, however, showed 
that while in a general»way he adhered to Catholic doc- 
trine, he ran a side show of religious views peculiarly his 
own. I think our Millnoket friends sized him up very 
cleverly when they decided that he was suffering from 
an overdose of the invisible world which rendered him 
unable fully to digest the visible. That verdict has a 
tendency to persuade me that the jury wa3 sober. 
The oddest thing about the venerable phantom was his 
utter indifference to the hardships he had gone through, 
as well as to his future welfare. He had no complaints to 
make and no surprise to express. All that we did for 
him aroused no word of gratitude. He asked for nothing, 
not even food, though he stowed away a tremendous jag 
when it was given him. His central idea as to worldly 
matters seemed to be that he was journeying from Moose- 
head Lake to Grand Falls. He had not the slightest 
notion of the distance he had come or still had to go, and 
I imagine if he ever reached the falls he straightway 
received a call from his invisible monitors to proceed to 
Moosehead Lake. 
A well-known lumberman of this city who saw his pic- 
ture in Forest and Stream states that the old fellow was 
seen near the head of the Tobique River early in August 
by a fishing party, on which occasion he was yarding 
away a hatful of blueberries, and paid no heed to the 
canoe as it passed by. 
How he got into the woods where we found him (for 
he had not come in by the logging road from Pleasant 
Ridge, and there were no other roads), and how. he had 
managed to sustain life in that region, was an absolute 
mystery to everyone. I think the mysterious stranger 
was a full private in the great army of tramps, but 
unlike the most of his fellows, instead of taking to the 
railroads and turnpikes, he took to the trails and the 
streams. 
One important lesson it seems to me may be derived 
from his experience — namely, that a very limited amount 
of gray matter in the brain will suffice to maintain 
a man a long time in the woods and finally bring him 
out all right if he will only keep cool and keep moving. 
I should say the old gentleman was insane, but entirely 
harmless. Some of his remarks upon abstract questions 
were quite rational, but when you offered him a concrete 
fact he looked at youin.a queer, diagonal way and dodged 
it. He seemed to have no exact memory of anything that 
had happened more than forty-eight hours before. 
A pet hobby of his was that he could construct a flying 
machine that would take him from Moosehead Lake to 
Grand Falls in a day. He would build a square platform, 
he said, and place large wooden augers at each of the four 
corners, and then seating himself in the center and em- 
ploying a foot-power contrivance he would bore his way 
up into the airl I remarked that this would be a good 
deal like a man lifting himself over a fence by the slack 
of his raiment. He said that could be done too, if the 
man only had enough faith! 
He made one observation which I now recall with some 
amusement in view of the present political position. He 
said, "The United States would like to lick England if they 
could." I asked him why? "Oh," said he, •■they don't 
know George the third is dead." And then he added, 
looking intently at me: "Perhaps he isn't!" 
As he left us in the morning and glided off through 
the f o est in his bare feet, with his boots and rusty axe 
slung over his shoulder, he remarked: "A feller would 
jist be in luck now if he could only strike a bear." 
Well, he was the queerest of the queer. When I think 
of him and his wanderings through the trackless wilds, I 
feel like chucking up the name of Prowler, 
