July, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
369 
and lie between the cypress belt and the 
Everglades proper. Getting through this 
we finally emerged into the Everglades 
— seemingly a sea of waving green 
grasses with numberless islands of all 
sizes. But these grasses and plants were 
all growing in water, clear and limpid, 
with channels a few feet wide diverging 
and crossing in every direction, through 
which a canoe could be sailed or paddled. 
There were then two feet of water in 
the Everglades, it being the dry season. 
We were warmly welcomed by Little 
Tiger, whom I had met three years be- 
fore at Fort Capron, on Indian river. 
He was the son of old Tiger Tail who 
had been killed by lightning a few years 
previously. He assigned us to a pal- 
rxetto-thatched hut with open sides, and 
a floor several feet from the ground, 
where we spent several days much inter- 
ested in the tribe and its manners and 
customs. These Indians lead a quiet and 
peaceful life, cultivating corn, sweet po- 
tatoes, pumpkins, bananas and beans on 
the rich hummocks on the adjacent 
islands, their villages being in the pine 
woods bordering the mainland. Such a 
life is not without its charms, shut out 
from the world by impenetrable cypress 
swamps. 
Beside Little Tiger there were Doctor 
Tommy, Big Charley, Little Tommy and 
several others with their squaws and 
children, half a dozen young bucks, some 
old women and a host of dogs. - The men 
were mostly tall and well formed, and 
their bare legs resembled polished ma- 
hogany. Their hair was shaved from 
the sides of the head and tha f on top 
was formed into a plait and wc: :i ed 
under their pecu- 
liar turban; this 
with a plaid hick- 
ory shirt and belt 
completed their 
attire. The women 
wore calico skirts 
and short sacques, 
and all the beads 
they could pro- 
cure about their 
necks. The young 
bucks were ve : - 
vain in respect to 
their shirts and 
handkerchiefs and 
general personal 
appearance. The 
boys were busy all 
day with their 
bows and arrows 
shooting at a tar- 
get. The old men 
were good hunt- 
ers but poor 
shots. The family 
groups assembled 
about their own 
fires at night, 
cooking and eat- 
ing; and then the men smoking and the 
squaws sewing or pulling buckskin, 
formed a pleasing, pastoral and patri- 
archal scene. 
As the twilight floated upward, and 
the darkness closed around, the night 
was filled with wonders. The small fires 
between the huts cast a ruddy glare 
around, lighting up the gay attire and 
swarthy features of the Indians as they 
silently moved about, gilding the trunks 
of the lofty pines and setting the shad- 
ows dancing and flitting through the 
open huts. The white smoke glided up- 
ward like tall ghosts and disappeared 
in the gloom above the tree tops. The 
young moon hung low in the west, carry- 
ing the old moon in her arms across the 
mysterious wastes of the Everglades, 
leaving a trail of silvery tracks behind 
her. The jeweled belt of Orion, the 
Pleiades and the Pole Star blazed in the 
heavens above, while myriads of fire-flies 
flitted and flashed their tiny lanterns 
over the slender spires of reeds, rushes 
and rank grasses, their reflections gleam- 
ing and sparkling with the stars in the 
still reaches of the channels. The air 
was redolent of balmy shrubs, honey- 
scented flowers, and the spicy aroma of 
the pines. Strange night birds flew by 
on noiseless wing, great moths wheeled 
about in erratic flight, and fierce beetles 
went buzzing overhead. The chuck-will’s- 
widow was calling loudly, and the great 
horned owl woke the solemn echoes of 
the dense pine forest, while the incessant 
twittering and chattering of waterfowl, 
the piping of frogs, and the occasional 
bellow of an alligator came from the 
marshes. What wonder that the Semi- 
noles fought so long and so desperately 
for their sunny homes! 
T HE region called the “Everglades” 
is unique; there is nothing like it 
anywhere else. As far as the eye 
can reach stretches a broad, level ex- 
panse, clothed in verdure of a peculiarly 
fresh and vivid green, a rich and intense 
color seen nowhere else. The surface is 
dotted and diversified by numberless islets 
and islands, of all shapes and sizes, from 
a few yards to many acres in extent, 
clothed with a tropical luxuriance of 
trees, shrubs and vines. The mangrove 
gives place to the cocoa plum, which 
grows in endless profusion amid the 
swamp maple, sweet bay, mastich, gum 
limbo, satin wood, and towering above 
these, clearly revealed against the blue 
sky, the plume-like palmetto; while over 
and around all, running riot in their 
exuberance, are innumerable vines and 
creepers bearing flowers of gorgeous 
dyes. In our school days we were given 
to understand that the Everglades was 
an immense, malarious swamp, exuding 
miasmatic odors and infested with veno- 
mous snakes and poisonous reptiles. 
Nothing could be farther from the truth. 
It is a lake of pure and clear water flow- 
ing through its streams to the sea. 
The older men frequented the settle- 
ments during the winter, going to Indian 
river via Ten-Mile creek, to the west 
coast by way of the Caloosahatchee river 
and Fort Myers, and to Biscayne Bay 
down the Miami river, where they bar- 
tered vegetables, hominy, bird plumes 
and buckskin for such articles of food 
and raiment as were needed. 
On the last night of our sojourn we ar- 
ranged an entertainment for the tribe. 
We built a big campfire in front of our 
hut, and the guests assembled soon after 
dark. The squaws were seated, each 
with a papoose in her lap, pounding 
hominy or pulling buckskin, for they 
were never idle. The men stood around, 
not caring to appear interested, smoking 
or cleaning their rifles. We pulled off 
a few simple stunts, such as juggling 
three cocoa-plums, keeping two in the 
air at a time — one of our party could 
manage four. Then there were some 
tricks with a string, and tying fool-knots 
in a handkerchief, whereupon the men 
began to take 
more interest in 
the performance. 
Then I capped 
the climax by 
doing some palm- 
ing tricks, such 
as making a half 
dollar disappear 
and then finding 
it under one of 
the young buck’s 
turbans, or in one 
of the old men’s 
tobacco pouches ; 
but when I took it 
from the mouth 
of a papoose they 
could not conceal 
their interest and 
responded with 
grunts of great 
satisfaction. 
We were all well 
pleased and bene- 
fitted by our visit 
to the Indian vil- 
lage, and when 
we left we made 
each one a little 
present, mostly of money to the men. 
Little Tiger expressed but one regret, 
that we had no wy-ho-mee (whiskey) to 
give him, he being very fond of it, and 
as in many other cases, with red, white 
or black men, it proved to be his bane, 
for a few years later, while under its in- 
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 406) 
BONE-FISH. 
Elops saurus 
Present day usage reverses the names of these two fish, Albula vulpes 
being called bone fish. 
