302 
FOREST AND STREAM 
June, 1920 
JAMES ALEXANDER HENSHALL 
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE APOSTLE OF THE BLACK BASS. 
FATHER OF THE GRAYLING AND DEAN OF AMERICAN ANGLERS 
F ROM Fort Capron, Florida, to the 
mouth of St. Lucie river, there is an 
expanse of Indian river known as St. 
Lucie Sound, several miles in width, af- 
fording fine sailing, close-hauled or free. 
On our way we encountered a school of 
porpoises rolling and rollicking in play- 
ful gambols as we sped by. Leaving 
them to their own devices we sailed over 
to the wharf of “Old Cuba,” as he was 
known, opposite to the mouth of the St. 
Lucie. Old Cuba had squatted in a small, 
but very rich hummock, where he -grew 
a profusion of fruit and vegetables and 
tobacco. He was a Cuban refugee, hav- 
ing been engaged in one of the numerous 
revolutions common to the Pearl of the 
Antilles . 
We purchased a sack of sweet potatoes, 
a bunch of bananas, and some hands of 
tobacco, the seed of which he had brought 
from Cuba. Sniffing the tobacco I said: 
“Ah, that’s fine; genuine Havana to- 
bacco!” 
“No, no, senor,” he said, “Cuba tobac’, 
not Habana; he grow in de country, 
Vurlta Abajo, down in Cuba.” 
“You’re right, Cuba,” I rejoined, 
“cigars are made in Havana; but the 
tobacco grows in the lower country.” 
“Si, senor, but cigar made in country, 
too; he call de ‘Plantation’ cigar.-” 
Cuba was right, again, for I remember 
well the old “Plantation” cigars,, very 
black they were and long and wrapped 
in barreled-shaped fagots cased in the 
inner bark of the palm tree. 
Declining Cuba’s urgent invitation to 
stop for dinner, we sailed across to the 
St. Lucie, and when several miles up the 
river there was a sudden shock as the 
bow struck something, and was lifted up 
as the Blue Wing glided over it. Then 
there was quite a commotion and splash- 
ing on the surface of the water as we 
saw a flipper lifted up, and then we 
caught a glimpse of a queer flat, round- 
ed tail, and then with a rush and a wake 
like a motor-boat the creature disap- 
peared. I thought at first it might be a 
porpoise, but on second thought knew it 
to be a manatee, or sea-cow, which was 
then not uncommon in the St. Lucie, as 
we afterward saw several more feeding 
on the eel-grass along the river. 
We camped at the confluence of the 
forks of the river, where it divided into 
the North and South Halpatiokee rivers. 
Black bass fishing was excellent in both 
streams, and it was in the south fork 
that I caught my record bass on the arti- 
ficial fly. It was taken on a “polka” and 
weighed fourteen pounds, though it will 
be remembered that I caught one on live 
bait in the Sebastian river that weighed 
twenty pounds. These records are not 
likely to be broken at this late day, for 
even in Florida, large-mouthed bass of 
more than ten pounds are not often met. 
FOURTEENTH PAPER 
Late one afternoon, up the south fork, 
I located a turkey roost, and the next 
morning before sunrise I took my turkey 
call and repaired to the vicinity, where 
there was a thicket of myrtle bushes. I 
sat on a log well-screened from observa- 
tion, and began “yelping” like the calling 
of a hen turkey. Several gobblers re- 
sponded from the roost, but failing to put 
in an appearance I gave it up and left 
the thicket. Before going into the blind 
I had examined the white sand surround- 
ing the thicket for turkey tracks, but saw 
nothing. Now, to my surprise I saw the 
fresh tracks of an immense panther, 
judging from his foot-prints, which 
stopped within fifteen feet of me, when 
he left in a hurry, as I could judge from 
the difference in the tracks, going and 
coming. Hearing my yelping he fully 
expected to make a meal of a hen turkey 
in distress. 
N EAR the source of the south prong 
of the river, well down toward the 
Everglades, we saw a rookery of 
roseate spoonbills, or pink curlews, which 
were not uncommon at that time. A few 
ivory-bill woodpeckers were also ob- 
served, but I imagine that they are now 
extinct in Florida. Two flamingos were 
sighted flying over the marshes one day, 
going at a rapid rate in the direction of 
the southern coast. There was in this 
locality a “burn,” on which deer could be 
seen feeding in the early morning. These 
burns are made by the Seminoles for this 
very purpose; for after burning off the 
old, tall grass, a new growth appears 
within a few weeks. One day I was 
standing among some bushes at the edge 
of this burn looking for a deer, when I 
was conscious of something moving near 
my eye, which I thought to be a leaf, 
but which proved to be a small snake of 
an intense emerald green color, with eyes 
like rubies, which was wiggling his head 
within a few inches of my eye. It was a 
beautiful creature, and quickly seizing it 
I wrapped it up in my handkerchief and 
placed it in my pocket, for I had never 
seen anything like it before. On my 
return to camp I got out the can of 
alcohol, and then to my chagrin I dis- 
covered that my precious specimen had 
escaped. 
Black bass fishing in both forks of the 
St. Lucie was really too much of a good 
thing. On favorable days, even with the 
fly, one soon tired of the sport, as it re- 
quired but little skill to lure them from 
the dark but transparent water. And 
they were as good as they were game. 
Their flavor was not surpassed by those 
of any other waters, north or south, 
within my experience. But after leaving 
the St. Lucie their memory would alone 
be left us as we would not be likely to 
meet them again. 
After a week or two spent in the de- 
lightful wilderness of the St. Lucie we 
broke camp and sailed out into Indian 
river again. We had fair sailing until 
Jupiter Narrows was reached, through 
which for eight or ten miles we followed 
t'^e devious and tortuous channel, amid 
the mazes of many mangrove isles; and 
though the water was deep, the channel 
narrowed to fifty yards, and sometimes 
to as many feet. In lieu of a topsail we 
hoisted the peak of the mainsail as high 
as possible in order to catch the slight 
breeze blowing over the mangroves; but 
even then we frequently resorted to the 
setting poles to aid our passage through. 
This was the most picturesque portion 
of Indian river. The surface of the 
water, quite still and smooth at all times, 
reflected the green walls of the narrow 
strait as in a mirror, while small side 
channels led off between the numerous 
islands like streaks of planished silver. 
The trunks of the mangroves stood sev- 
eral feet above the water supported by 
arching roots, long, smooth and deeply 
rooted, in the nature of banyan trees. 
Groups of palmettos were seen, around 
whose dark trunks were curiously inter- 
twined the climbing gray stems of the 
rubber trees, forming a rustic lattice- 
work of rare beauty, whose meshes were 
filled with graceful air-ferns and air- 
plants with plumes of crimsom bloom. 
We finally emerged into Hobe Sound, as 
that part of Indian river is called, from 
the Narrows to Jupiter, being some ten 
miles long and about a quarter of a mile 
wide. There was fine fishing in this 
reach of water, and the boys enjoyed 
trolling as we sailed along with a slight 
breeze. They were kept busy pulling in 
jack, amber- jack, leather-jack, cavalli, 
bluefish and other species, easily ljired 
with spinner, spoon, squid, or even with 
a bacon rind or a bit of white rag. The 
fish were unhooked as soon as landed, 
and returned to the water unharmed and 
undaunted, to continue their free way. 
