June 22, 1895.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
607 
He laughed at this and said he wouldn't wonder if it 
would, as the place had the very worst reputation for mos- 
quitoes in Florida, 
We talked with him for some time and found him quite 
a nice fellow. He was far and above any of the 
"Crackers" we met afterwards, both in intelligence and 
accommodation. In fact, the class of "Crackers" we met 
while in Florida were the most ignorant, lazy, dirty, least 
accommodating class of human beings, black or white, it 
has ever been my misfortune to meet. There may be a 
better class of this part of the human race than we met; 
I hope there is. But for downwright degradation and de- 
generacy, introduce a "Florida Cracker" and you have 
the best case I know of. 
Bidding our colored friend good-by after receiving full 
directions how to find the creek, we started back through 
the mud and hot sun for the boat, where we arrived nearly 
ba.ked. 
Sam had a good breakfast or dinner ready for us. 
After eating we hoisted sail to take advantage of what 
little air was stirring, and about noontime were once more 
on the waters of the sound. 
A Bit of Eden. 
We sailed, sculled and drifted until the middle of the 
afternoon, when we saw a nice-looking residence up on 
the shore. We landed to get information as to our course 
and to see if we could buy some oranges, seen hanging in 
golden globes from the trees of a fine large grove in the 
rear of the house. 
When we reached the house we found every door and 
window closed and nailed up tight. After knocking for 
awhile, we agreed that nobody was home. So, as we 
wanted oranges, and could not buy, we helped ourselves. 
This was certainly a beautiful place to spend the 
winter, a perfect paradise — in fact. A fine beach extended 
from the front of the house to the water, and stretched 
away on either hand for a long distance, looking in the 
Bheen and dazzle of the sun for all the world like a 
blanket of snow. This beach was as hard and firm as a 
race course. From the front of the house one looked 
directly out to the sea, through the opening that connects 
the sound with the ocean. Across this opening there is 
the usual sandbar, so common at the entrances of inland 
waters connected with the ocean in Florida. Over this 
bar the ocean swells were seething and boiling in the 
grandest and most boisterous manner; while far out at 
sea, just on the line of the horizon, the white sails of three 
or four schooners glistened in the sunlight like pearls, 
forming a beautiful picture of marine enchantment. The 
house was surrounded by all kinds of semi-tropical vege- 
tation, and it was so cool and shady that we were slow to 
leave. But after loafing around for a while, we went 
aboard and started again. 
Wfr had not proceeded very far before our ears were 
saluted with quite a racket; and we were amazed to see, 
where the beach came out to a point, the sand literally 
smothered with snipe, plover and two or three other 
kinds of birds. Whether they were feeding or what 
their object was to be all mixed up that way, I don't 
know. We tried to get a shot at them, but they flew be- 
fore we got near enough. Tom fired anyhow to scare 
them, and such a roaring of wings and discordant sounds 
as they made I never heard before nor since. 
Just off this point a short distance we spied a red can 
buoy, which our colored friend of the morning had told 
us we would find at the entrance of the creek of which 
we were in search, 
When we reached the buoy, sure enough there was the 
creek and no mistake. We soon entered it, and as there 
was a little wind we made fair headway and began to 
congratulate ourselves on the prospect of reaching the St. 
John's that night; but "the fickle wind" played us false 
again and we had no other alternative but to resort to the 
oar. Then the tide turned against us, so we decided that 
the best thing to do would be to look for a suitable place 
to camp. 
Our First Cracker. 
Just as the sun began to sink, we spied a habitation off 
on the bank a short distance ahead and immediately 
headed the boat for it. We found it to be a small log 
cabin with one door and no windows. As we were rath- 
er short of provisions, canned goods excepted, we hailed 
the place and after two or three trials the form of a man 
appeared in the doorway. We first asked him if we were 
in the right creek to reach the St. John's river? and he 
said "yes." We then asked him if he would sell us some- 
thing to eat; he said he "would come and talk with us." 
This was said in such a weak indolent manner that we de- 
cided he must be sick; then he started to walk to the boat 
and we knew he was sick. The reason we knew he was 
sick was because we had never seen one of his kind be- 
fore. 
If we had ever been in Florida before, we would have 
recognized in this unwashed, thin, humpbacked, concave 
chested, long-haired, bewhiskered, vermin-covered, lazy, 
trifling, good-for-nothing exister a very good built, quick 
moving, fine specimen of the best class of Florida Crackers. 
We asked liim again if he had anything to eat that he 
would like to sell. He said something that sounded to 
me like "grapes" and the effort seemed nearly to take his 
strength away. 
"All right," I said, looking at the rest of the crew, "I 
guess we will try some grapes." He turned and went 
back to the house, from which he reappeared with a 
tomato can. After making the trip of 50yds. from the 
house to the boat in the excellent Cracker time of about 
five minutes, he handed us the can. We found it about 
three-quarters full, not of grapes, but what we afterward 
found were named grits. 
I handed him 35 cents for 8 cents' worth of grits, which 
caused the only flickering gleam of intelligence to cross 
his face that we observed on it at aay time during our 
short acquaintance with him. 
We asked permission to build a fire on his premises so 
as to cook supper, which he granted. We soon had sup- 
per under way, our Cracker acquaintance watching us all 
the while with hungry eyes and a great variety of mo- 
tions. He couldn't sit still. He had to scratch. I think 
that is what made him so tired. 
When supper was ready, for manners' sake we invited 
him to join us. He swallowed a number of times, and 
"guessed he would." So after waiting a short Cracker 
while for him to make the trip to the house (to get his 
plate, cup and knife) and back, which consumed just 
twelve minutes of time to make the necessary 100yds., 
we commenced our meal. 
For some reason the healthful outdoor air, the'bright 
sunshine, the sparkling water, the strange, new sights we 
had seen that day, the hard work, and all else combined, 
couldn't keep our usual voracious appetite from deserting 
us. It had fled entirely. But wha,t we had lost the 
Cracker bad found. We ate nothing, he ate everything. 
That man worked harder at supper that night and at 
breakfast next morning than he ever did before or since. 
He even forgot to scratch. 
After the dishes were washed and put away, we accepted 
an invitation to go up to the house. The Cracker started 
ahead, and as we didn't wish to get there first, we waited 
until he was within 10ft. or so of the door before we 
started. We all reached there neck and neck. 
I wish some of my Northern friends could have seen 
the inside of that domicile. For furniture there was one 
soap box, which answered the purpose of table, chair and 
cupboard; one tin cup, which was handleless; one corncob 
pipe and an old rusty knife. There was nothing else 
excepting a pile of dirty straw off in one corner of the 
room, which served as a bed. The Cracker seemed as 
proud as a peacock of this display of wordly wealth. In 
fact, between scratches and gouges, he tried to show off. 
We stayed until about 9 o'clock listening to the very 
entertaining talk of this creature. It was entertaining 
because it was a new kind of puzzle, or variety of puz- 
zles, which we had great sport in trying to unravel after- 
ward. He tried to enlighten us as to his birthplace, 
which proved to be a magnificent puzzle. It was either 
Philadelphia or Patagonia, 
Tom and Sam, at this worthy's invitation, slept on the - 
floor in one corner of the room that night. But the cabin 
of the Rambler, with the dog for company, suited me 
very well. 
We were up bright and early next morning, and after 
feeding the Cracker we soon got under way. We sailed, 
drifted and sculled all tb at morning, with the sun shin- 
ing down on us like a ball of fire, through a creek so 
crooked that it is beyond my capability to describe it. 
We finally were favored with some wind, but on account 
of the crookedness of the stream we had it dead ahead as 
often as any other way. 
When we were so close to the St. John's as to see the 
men on different vessels passing up and down the river 
we were still a long distance from the river, on account 
of the twists and turns of this crooked creek. But we 
finally reached it about 2 o'clock. 
Just before entering the river we passed a number of 
neat, clean-looking residences. In front of one of these 
residences a boat was anchored and from it a lady was 
fishing. We watched her lure several fine sheepshead 
from their watery element in a most graceful and artistic 
manner. She looked daggers at us when we went by, 
however, for what has always been a conundrum to me. 
We certainly didn't give her any occasion to look that 
way. I think probably she took us for Crackers. If she 
did she has my forgiveness for looking that way. I 
admire her for it. 
On the St. John's. 
The breeze came out very steady from the south after 
we entered the river, and we enjoyed the most delightful 
sail that afternoon that we had been favored with since the 
Rambler had floated on Florida waters. 
We were surprised to see so much life and traffic on the 
river. There were all sorts of vessels, from rowboats to 
the majestic ocean steamship which had just begun to 
make regular trips from New York to Jacksonville. Por- 
poises rolled and sported all around us. The declining sun 
cast his slanting golden rays out of a sky of deepest azure 
over green groves of orange trees, groaning under their 
loads of luscious fruit; over brown marsh and glittering 
waves; or, searching out some merchant schooner's sails, 
it would touch them with a luster and glittering loveli- 
ness not their own. The whole formed a picture of en- 
chanting beauty far beyond the ability of any author to 
describe or artist to paint. 
About 4 o'clock we headed the Rambler for a wharf on 
the right hand side of the river, where we could make out 
quite a cluster of houses. We were rather short of pro- 
visions, so we thought this would be a good opportunity to 
store up. 
When we reached the wharf we found a great number 
of fishing boats tied to the wharf. This was Yellow Bluff. 
The boats had been outside the river on the ocean after 
their fish, and all were literally loaded to their full 
capacity. 
After getting a supply of eatables, we pushed off from 
the wharf and proceeded up the river. The wind had 
become very light again, but what there was was in our 
favor; so we kept right on. We had supper while we 
sailed. Then under the soft light of the moon we drifted 
and wondered what the folks at home were doing. We 
told stories and felt the calm contentment of perfectly 
satisfied mortals. Every now and then one of the huge 
cages which mark the channel of the river would seem to 
drift up and by, looking in the wierd light of the moon like 
some strange, fantastic, skeleton monster of another world. 
Then, again, the wild melody of some darky boatman song 
would drift to us from far across the moonlit river, dis- 
tance lending softness and melody to what under other 
circumstances would sound hard and discordant. 
We must have slept well that night, or I would remem- 
ber something about it. I know we were under way early 
next morning, and that it was cloudy. The sun soon 
came out, however, and there was a light breeze almost 
dead ahead. That morning we passed between banks 
covered with orange groves and lovely residences. We 
were told that "they belong to Northern people mostly," 
who reside there in the winter time. 
Just before we reached Jacksonville we passed a small 
sunken steamer that had got the worst of a collision with 
some other craft. Just the smokestack and a small por- 
tion of the upper works showed above the water. She 
was in an excellent position for some other vessel to run 
afoul of. 
About this time the wind had died away, so we anchored 
and had dinner. After dinner, we were anxious to 
reach Jacksonville that night to get letters from home, 
but the wind having died away, we were forced to resort 
to the oar again. This proved to be tedious, unsatisfac- 
tory work against the current. 
We had not kept the strictest account of dates since we 
left home, so it happened to flash across the mind of one 
of the crew that this was Sunday, which set the rest of 
us to figuring, and finally the fact dawned on us all. We 
had thought it was Saturday, so as it would do us no good 
to reacrf Jacksonville that day we decided to take things 
easy. We were just about to anchor when a few faint 
zephyrs gave notice that we might expect a little wind. 
We soon got it, almost northeast. Before a great while it 
began to cloud up. 
About 3 o'clock the city of Jacksonville opened to our 
view. But as we did not care to reach there on Sunday 
we kept a lookout for a place to camp. Noticing what 
appeared to be an unused wharf nearly opposite the city, 
we headed the boat for it, and in ten minutes the sail of 
the Rambler was furled, and she lay snugly tied to the 
wharf. 
I took advantage of this opportunity to change my 
clothing all the way through, even to clean canvas 
jumper and overalls. Sam and Tom thought I was get- 
ting to be pretty much of a dude. I got square with them 
though, as some people came down to the wharf to go 
over to the city in a row boat, which was tied near the 
Rambler. They cast disdainful looks on Sam and Tom, 
whom I have no doubt they took to be Crackers, on ac- 
count of the natural born tired look they exhibited, and 
in the way their bodies were disposed on the wharf, 
which was only 4ft. wide and they lay crossways on it. 
They couldn't very well lie otherwise on account of strips 
of wood that were nailed across the wharf at intervals of 
a foot or so. 
What these strips were for is a problem we have never 
solved. But I won't forget them, as the sequel will show. 
At any rate these people all smiled and said (to me), "How 
de do?" Sam said it was because I was attired in the same 
manner as the male portion of their party was. Tom 
swore it was because I resembled a Sunday-go-to-meeting 
Cracker, but Tom knew very well that that wasn't so, as 
Crackers are too lazy to go to meeting. 
By this time the sky was so clouded and the wind was 
rising in such a manner from the north that there was 
every indication of rain. • 
We didn't erect the tent that night, Tom occupied the 
cabin, while Sam and I put on our overcoats and oil-skins, 
and spreading rubber coats over our heads made up a bed 
on the wharf with blankets and the tent. This is where 
the sticks that were nailed across the wharf were impressed 
on my memory as well as my body. We couldn't lie 
lengthwise of the wharf on account of one of these sticks 
every foot or so, so we had to lie crosswise. We were 
both 6-footers and the wharf was only 4ft. wide, so it 
can be easily imagined how comfortable our bed was. 
Besides it began to rain before long and kept it up all 
night; still it was a great deal better than Black Ham- 
mock, as we did manage to get some sleep. 
It was a long night, but morning broke at last, cloudy 
and dripping wet, with a hard wind from the north. 
After partaking of a hasty breakfast, we hoisted sail and 
started to cross the river to the city. 
When we had about reached the middle of the river 
Tom suddenly uttered an exclamation and said: "If I 
wasn't in Florida I would say that I had seen that ferry- 
boat before." He said she looked the identical counter- 
part of the old Armsmere that used to cross the Connecticut 
River at Hartford. She was headed down the river while 
he was speaking, but almost as soon as he finished she 
swung her bow for the shore and showed us her broad- 
side, on which in large letters the name Armsmere was 
painted. 
She was a wide, squat, comical-looking affair, smaller a 
great deal than the New York ferryboats. The sight of 
her made a very satisfied look of contentment steal over 
Tom's face, though, which was there the rest of the day, 
for the boat brought up memories of his younger days, 
which had been passed in Hartford. ¥i. H. Avis. 
[to be continued.] 
The Scarcity of Birds. 
Framingham, Mass. , June 10. -^-Editor Forest and Stream: 
Now that the migrants have left us and the local species 
settled down, so to speak, I send you a few notes by way of 
supplement to my former article. 
The report of the apparent (almost) extermination of the 
bluebirds is confirmed. Some twenty letters from various 
northern sections all tell the same story. I cannot hear of 
even one breeding pair in this vicinity. 
An attempt to arrange in four rather roughly defined 
classes (from a limited field of observation, however) re- 
sults as follows: 
First — Very much scarcer than usual: Bluebird, phcebe, 
white-bellied and barn swallows, purple finch. 
Second — Scarcer than usual: Tanager, oriole, brown 
thrasher, wood pewee, wood thrush, chipping sparrow, 
warbling vireo, Maryland yellow-throat. 
Third — About as usual: Rose-breasted grosbeak, cat- 
bird, kingbird, Wilson's thrush, yellow, chestnut-sided 
and black-throated green warblers, red-eyed vireo, robin, 
oven bird, song sparrow. 
Fourth — Apparently more abundant than usual: Red- 
start, bobolink. 
There was a noticeable irregularity in dates of arrival 
this spring. We have been accustomed to a fairly regular 
succession; but this season some species came ahead of 
time and other species were more or less behindhand. It 
would be interesting to know if an observation of this 
character was gene ral. F. C. Browne. 
"Does a Deer Challenge?" 
Portland, Ind. — Editor Forest and Stream: I will try 
to reply to your question, "Does a deer challenge?" In 
the Lake Superior region it is not an uncommon thing to 
hear a buck whistle, as we call it. He may be following 
the trail of another buck, or may be only disturbed by the 
hunter. The sound is somewhat like escaping steam, but 
shrill and loud enough to be heard from a fourth to a half 
mile. I have known one after being slightly wounded to 
take cover in a dense swamp and repeatedly send forth 
his angry challenge. The sound is, I think, produced by 
the throat and mouth, and would require the head to be 
elevated and mouth slightly open. I am of the opinion 
that this is the only note of anger or warning that the 
whitetail deer gives. C. 
A Cambridge Bird Exhibition. 
Mr. Wm. E. D. Scott will show a special collection of 
birds in the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Cam- 
bridge, Mass., beginning June 18, 
