Oct. 21, i&jgj «t 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
828 
Boyhood Days m Florida/' 
II. 
The Last Stage of the Journey. 
From the town of Sanford a primitive, rickety, nar- 
row-gauge railroad ran to the eastern shore of Lake Jes- 
sup. ten miles awa}^ and it was over this road that the 
next stage of my join-ney was to lead me. 
Long before train time I was down at the edpot wait- 
mg impatiently for the moments to pass. Around the 
platform the usual contingent of loafing darkies were 
scattered. Some of the more energetic Avere assisting the 
freight agent in loading the cars; others were whittling; 
but the larger part, in the negro fashion, were merely 
basking like alligators in the sunshine. The train that 
was to convey me to Lake Jessup was a mixed one, con- 
sLviing of about ten box cars, several flat cars and a com- 
bination baggage and passenger coach. The engine, a 
wheezy, topheavy piece of machinery with a smoke- 
stack built on the balloon plan, was getting up steam in 
the yard above. It soon moved down, emitting groans 
and squeaks as it came, and was coupled to the train. I 
was at a loss at first to understand why the engine was 
coupled to the train "head on," but we had not traveled 
far before the wisdom of this policy became plain. There 
was no need of a cowcatcher in front. We could never 
have overtaken a cow, but there was the greatest danger • 
of a cow overtaking us from behind. 
But at last came the familiar "All aboard." The tiny 
bell on the engine rang vigorously; there was the sound 
of escaping steam, followed. by a series of jerks and jolts 
that threatened disaster to long-necked passengers, and 
we were off. And such a ride. If an accident had hap- 
pened no one would have recognized it. If we had been 
on the ties themselves the journey could not have been 
rougher. Continued shrieks from the engine, the hiss of 
escaping steam, and the constant banging of the cars was 
enough to make one believe that the devil himself was at 
the throttle. And when we slowed down for stations, as 
we did on several occasions, the passengers barely escaped 
serious attacks of nervous prostration. A series of sudden 
bumps and jolts forewarned us that a station was at hand, 
and then we just held our breath and seized the arms of 
our seats, not daring to guess what the next moment 
•.might have in store for us. And so through the thick 
pine woods, over swamps, and past stations with their 
^groups of idle, curious darkies, we bumped and jolted 
until at last the waters of Lake Jessup lay spread out be- 
liore us. And oh, the relief to escape from that dan ger- 
lous prison! to breathe that soft, clear air, to hear the 
swish of the water along the shore atid the wind in the 
trees, and to view with my own eyes that mysterious land 
jvhose charms and beauties I had pictured so often! At 
the wharf near by lay the steamer that was to carry me 
to the other shore of the lake, a distance of about eight 
miles. Up on the pilot house I read her name, "Sem- 
inole," a name that to my boyish fancy appeared most 
thoroughly in keeping with the place and surroundings. 
She was a small single screw boat and from appearances 
had evidently seen hard usage. Just at present her crew 
were busy unloading a cargo of oranges to be taken 
back to Sanford on the return trip of the train. Making 
my way on board, I watched the men at their work, lis- 
tened eagerly for any news I might chance to gather of 
the place to which 1 was bound, and chafed at the delay 
in the departure of the boat. Occasionally the sight of a 
flock of ducks set my heart beating fast, or the vision of" 
a huge heron or fish hawk filled me with excitement. 
Some coots, too, playing in the neighboring marsh, came 
in. for their share of attention, and it seemed as though I 
could never wait for the time to come when I should get 
my gun out of the trunk and start on my campaign of 
destruction. Wouldn't my friends at home be envious 
when I told them how thick and varied the game was 
down here, and wouldn't I make jealous my big brother 
for whom I had tramped many a wearj^ mile, carrying, 
and at that time glad of the privilege of carrying, his 
bags of woodchucks and squirrels? But no more of that 
for me. In my own eyes I had already become myself a 
mighty hunter, and I pictured how, on my return to my 
New England home, I would call in the assistance of my 
yotinger friends to do for me the "dirty work," which I 
proposed to do no longer. And wouldn't I make their 
■?.yes sticks out with stories of my hunting experiences 
in that far-away paradise? In my boyish eyes I was al- 
ready a hero among my old friends, whom I pictured 
gathered around me in groups listening breathlessly to 
my tales of adventure and fairly tumbling over each other 
in their eagerness to do my bidding. Such are ever the 
dreams of youth. 
But the boat was now ready to start. Weird noises 
were issuing from the dark recesses of the engine room, 
and I peeped cautiously inside. But the knowledge that 
we had begun to move overcame even my curiosity to 
watch the working of the engine, and I hastened to the 
front of the boat to catch the first glimpse of the new 
country, now so near at hand. The lake was just rough 
enough to give a comfortable motion to the boat, and the 
wasii of the water against her bow was one of the sweet- 
esi sounds I had listened to for many a day. The lake 
ilself seemed alive with ducks, and my excitement was 
rapidly growing to fever heat. But just now my main 
interest was centering on the shore that we were ap- 
proaching. The huge bonj'- cypresses, rich with their bur- 
den of hanging moss, and the tall, graceful palmettos 
stretched away along the edge of the lake as far as the 
eye could reach, hiding behind them all that mysterious 
regi<>n in which I was soon to revel to my heart's content. 
At length the Lake Jessup landing came into view, a long, 
uneven and bedraggled looking wharf running out about 
iiooyds. from the shore.. The boat drew nearer and my 
eager eye soon detected white faces among the group that 
were awaiting our arrival. Among these no doubt was 
the man who was to pilot me to my new home. I 
watched them closely as the boat was being made secure 
to the wharf. As I stepped across the gangplank a jovial 
looking fellow made his way up to me and greeted me 
most cordially. He proved to be Gus Nelson, the boss of 
the orange grove on which I was to make mj-^ headquar- 
ters, and one of the finest fellows, as I afterward learned, 
that ever lived. We strolled up the long, wharf until we 
reached the store at the furthei- end. A typical country 
store it proved to be, combining a postoflice, store and 
all kinds lay scattered about everywhere, and the single 
glass showcase was so besmeared with grease and dirt 
that it was almost impossible to tell just what it con- 
cealed beneath it. But in .spite of these unattractive sur- 
roundings, we managed to enjoy a lunch of crackers and 
cheese and fruit, and then we were ready to start on the 
last stage of our journey. 
In front of the store a heavy wagon was waiting. The 
baggage was placed aboard. Gus took the reins and the 
horses started. Seated beside my new friend, I remained 
for a time in silence; but gradually all the boyish ques- 
tions that were burning within me began to make their 
way out. My companion was generous. At times he 
could scarcely conceal his mirth, but he was always civil, 
and to me information front such a trustworthy source 
was little less than inspired. Once his good nature got 
the best of him. A huge buzzard drifted iazily over our 
heads, and to my eyes he appeared about the size of an 
ostrich. In my excitement I almost fell out of the wagon, 
and then, being utterly ignorant of the characteristics of 
this scavenger, I ventured some remark about the fine 
shooting those birds must furnish. That was too much 
for my friend, and he broke into a hearty laugh. He 
tried to explain to me that people never shot buzzards; 
but that served only to lower the people in my estimation. 
Inwardly I made up my mind that these natives didn't 
appreciate their advantages anyway, and it was some little 
time before I became convinced myself that buzzards were, 
not exactly the kind of game I was after. 
Our road wound through a rich hammock of cypress 
and palmetto trees, the former covered with dense moss. 
On the ground was a dense undergrowth of palms and 
shrubs and vines intermingled in wild confusion and pre- 
senting an ahnost impenetrable barrier to the foot of man. 
The ddicious odor of the wild orange and magnolia, 
mingled with that of numerous wild flowers, filled 
the air with a rich fragrance. Bright plumaged birds 
flitted about among the vines and trees, while the natural 
stillness of the woods was constantly broken by the chat- 
ter of a squirrel, the rapping of a woodpecker or the harsh 
cry of a hawk circling far above our heads. My dreams 
were at last being realized. This land must be all that 
T had pictured it. Even the fountain of youth seemed a 
possibility in such surroundings. From "the swamp our 
road led -us up onto a stretch of higher pine land, a sandy 
.soil free from the rich vegetation of the hammocks. Then 
we plunged into another swamp, to emerge at last in fairly 
open country, with orange groves on both sides of us, 
The large grove on my left, my companion explained,- 
was the one on which I was to be located. Through the 
tops of the rich green trees I could detect the roof of the 
packing house, from which the musical notes of a darky's 
song floated out to us. A short ride brought us to the 
further end of the grove, and there,- nestling deep in 
among the fragraiit and shapely orange trees, I spied the 
"Lodge," my future home. A. E. Steakns. 
A Trip on a Bait Fisherman to the 
Magdalen Islands. 
We were bowling along the high and rocky coast of 
Nova Scotia. The sails were taking every advantage of 
the strong east wind, that sang a wild song in our rig- 
ging and dashed spray flakes in our faces. The white, 
choppy sea was hemmed in by a narrowed horizon of 
clouds, save to leeward, where the black coast loomed 
more or less distinctly, as bay receded or promontory 
advanced. The Frances E. Conrad was doing her pret- 
tiest, for her captain and namesake was at the wheel. 
Our little crew of four were vn the alert, especially 
Louis, who was developing dinner in the galley. As the 
guest of the captain, I was going through the usual 
experience of a sea novice, admiring, wondering and 
repressing a still somewhat rueful stomach. It was the 
end of April, but an ulster was very comfortable, 
especiallj' when the sun's warmth was intercepted by a 
thick cloud. 
After dinner the wind increased, the clouds gathered in 
heavier masses, and the sea tumbled higher and whiter. 
About 5 we headed for shore, making Shoal Bay in a 
driving fog about dark. The bay is long and narrow, but 
the water is deep. Conrad knew the place well, and we 
swept along fearlessly between the high spectral shores. 
Two rivers have their estuaries at the head of the bay. 
We bore up for the East River, but in the darkness kept 
too close to the point, coming to an unexpected standstill 
on a mussel bank, where the quickly falling tide left the 
Frances in a very ungraceful attitude. Not until ,the 
second tide did we slip off, and glad enough was I to get 
out of the scuppers. 
We rafted a freight of lumber down the river from 
the saw mill, and with quite a deck load set sail in the 
early morning. We touched at CroAV Harbor and thence 
to Port Mulgrave, where, with the gathering fleet of 
fishermen, we were detained a week by head winds and 
un ice-blocked gulf. These ice breezes were cold and 
chilling; besides, the sun was imable to pierce the dark 
gray canopy of clouds. However, I had a little shooting, 
exploring and some excitement in being lost on Cape 
Porcupine; and with baseball, reading and visiting the 
other vessels, the week slipped by. 
Saturday morning I was aroused by an unusual stir 
on deck. The sun was streaming down the companion- 
way, men were shouting, blocks were creaking and every- 
thing betokened a welcome move. Hurrying on deck, I 
found an animated scene. vSails were flashing up into the 
Ijright sunlight and anchors reappearing from the dark 
depths below, encouraged by the weird but untranscrib- 
able shouts and songs of the sailors. It is a merry race 
to see who will get away first. In a few minutes the 
narrow strait is thronged with the slowly moving fleet. 
The wind is light, but dead astern, and every scrap of 
canvas has been spread. Wing and wing we creep along. 
Now the Frances is forging ahead with quite a pulf, and 
Ave shout laughing good-bys t<> the Souvenir and Katy E., 
Iiecalmed a fcAv rods away. But presently our sheets arc 
loosely flapping, and Conrad is chafing as the fickle 
breeze leaves us to strike up a lively flirtation with our 
jA'als. Only a big grampus has been steadily progress- 
jng. heedless of wind or tide. 
By noon the wind was c|uite steady. Five vessels re- 
Umained in our company, the others having kept 
nearer the Cape Breton coast. We had met occasional 
ice pans, but toward evening they became quite numerous 
and the lookout had to be very alert and the helmsman 
prompt. Sometimes the Frances had her black sides 
scraped by these little white orphans of winter. At dark 
we Avere on the edge of the pack, where we stayed all 
night. In the morning I was awakened by a heavy' 
thump against an ice pan. The fog was dreadfully 
thick, hut the sun soon ate it up. At lo we entered the 
pack that touched the horizon. Progress through the 
winding passages Avas necessarily slow. Flocks of brant 
and duck were making their spring migrations, and a 
seal bobbed up from the water now and then. The sun 
filled the ice pans with a white blaze, and the schooner's 
four-knot gait was just right for a proper appreciation of 
the scene, to say nothing of the satisfaction of leading 
the fleet. 
By and by the channel came to an end, and the sky- 
suggesting a speedy termination of the fine weather we 
returned. As we passed the SouA^enir and Katy E., Capt. 
Leslie, of the former, sang out that they Avere going to 
harbor in the pack. But we steered for Souris, P. E. I., 
where, anchored outside the breakwater, the gale gave 
me a very miserable Sunday. Monday noon we set sail, 
but the wind was very light and by sunset Ave had made 
only twenty-three miles. The pack ice had drifted away. 
The next day the sea Avas almost as motionless as the 
sky, an.d the occasional ice pans suggested the scattered 
cin-us in the fathomless depths overhead. The stars 
slipped into their places in tlie trembling ether, and their 
Avavering reflections looked at us from the dark waters 
that crooningiy laA^ed the vessel's sides. Louis and Bridle 
Avere playing a vigorous duet on fiddle and bread pan 
near the galley,, with Larry on the fok'sle, swallowing 
doughnuts. Conrad was playing some homesick melodies 
on the little organ in the cabin, and Lynds was at the 
wheel. As for me, I was permitting the mystic beauty of 
sky and sea to fill and overflow my mind, albeit with a 
doughnut in each hand. Ah, me! the stupendous and 
the trivial Louis Avould cook the . bread pan heaping 
full of doughnuts, but 
Like the snowdrops in. the tivi-t — 
A moment seen, then gone forever, 
Larry took them in somcAvhat as a whale does animal- 
cute. Bridle added the zest of a gourmand. Conrad and 
I could do our share, but when we went for a second 
supply the pan contained nothing but our OAvn disap- 
pointed reflections, 
Thursday morning we reached Grindstone Island. It 
was good fun landing. The great billows Avent rolling 
in to dwindle to a fringe of foam far up the beach. On 
the boat SAvept, up and doAvn on the long SAvells with a 
spasmodic imcertain progression as we neared the shore. 
Suddenly the boat scrapes the bottom and we scramble 
overboard and drag her beyond the reach of a pursuing 
giant. We delivered some freight here, and also at 
South Beach, and then sailed for Amherst Harbor. The 
channel is narroAv, Avith shoals on either side, and only 
vessels Avith a light draft can use the passage. Conrad 
followed the maneuvers of a vessel ahead, and we en- 
tered safely with just one scrape to startle us a little. 
About eight vessels were at anchor, though sometimes 
double that number resort to the islands. 
Saturday n.iorning a great flotilla left the harbor; some 
distance in the lead a big seine boat skimmed easily along, 
urged by the pOAver of ten muscular rowers, and in its 
wake came the fleet of Avhale boats, manned by the hardy 
French-Canadian inhabitants of the islands. Presently 
the lookout in the seine boat sights a school of herring, 
and the long graceful boat fairly flies over the Avater. There 
is some quick maneuvering as "the fish are headed off, and 
the Frenchmen, trimming their sails and bending to their 
oars, SAvoop doAvn to the seine like a flock of hungry 
gulls. The herring are dipped from the seine with a 
huge dip net and dumped into the boats, which hold 
from tAventy to tliirly-five barrels. Just aAvash they 
creep back to the waiting vessels, and soon four of them 
are ranged alongside the Frances, and in a fcAV minutes 
the deck is knee deep with the slippery, squirming 
fish, the men in their oilskins ploughing right through 
the mass. From the fore shrouds I gazed at the novel 
scene. Part of the deck is reserved for salting; the 
herring are thrown into a small inclosure, mixed with 
salt and there shoveled down the hatchway, Avhere they 
lie in bulk, as they are to be used to bait lobster traps. 
To get aft I had to perform some original gymnastic 
feats, especially dangerous over the j'aAvning hatchway 
Avith a brisk fusillade of herring coming over both bul- 
Avarks. Conrad was having a big palaver in the cabin 
Avith the Frenchmen, bargaining over the price, which 
they usually take in provisions and merchandise. After 
that Avas settled Louis' resources were taxed to the ut- 
most to appease their appetites. 
It Avould take too much space to recount my pleasant 
rambles in the quaint little town or about the wildly 
picturesque islands. Great flocks of brant and duck were 
seen every day, and Bird Rock is a notorious resort for 
gannets, puffins and auks, sometimes literally covering 
the rocky protuberance. Sea trout are plenty, and ducks,, 
teal, plover and yelloAvlegs ' furnish in their season good 
sport and plenty of it. Indeed, any one who delights in 
the Avild grouping of land and sea (and in the Magdalens 
it is sometimes rather uncouth) Avould find the islands a 
delightful place for a summer outing. There are no 
hotels, but the people are polite and hospitable, the ac- 
commodations are clean and the food very good. Am- 
herst Island is the best for camp life, for insects are 
!umierous and rapacious on the other islands, although 
mosquitoes arc comparatively fcAV. The lack of harbors 
makes yachting rather too risky, but the yacht could be 
.safely anchored in Amherst Harbor, and cruising from 
island to island accomplished in Avhale boats. 
One evening I returned from, a trip to the interior, and 
found that the Frances had left the harbor to take in the 
balance of her cargo. She Avas atichored under the lee of 
a high clitf. No boat coming ashore. I put up at a cosy 
boarding house. The next day the wind had increased to 
half a gale. T climbed the hill, and crawling to the edge 
looked doAvn on the Frances, riding comfortably in the 
shelter of the cli-T. _ The Souvenir was also there. But 
the next day the Avind came from the opposite direction 
and so strong that it was hard Avork craAvling to the 
edge of the sandy bluft". Lying flat I looked down on the 
vessels, wildly tossing and pitching and straining at their 
anchors. The half-mile between their sterns and. the 
