July 6, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
7 
HOUSE ON PLANT NURSERY GROUNDS. 
pounds and its tail was nine feet long. We 
also annexed an extra large logger-head turtle, 
out of which the men cut steaks for their supper. 
The meat looked coarse and fibrous, and we 
were not attracted. 
Friday, March 29, was our last day on the 
Samoa, and as if in sympathy with our feelings 
it was a dark, murky morning, thermometer 81 
degrees, with spits of rain, looking, as the gun¬ 
man remarked, “like the north Atlantic.” Sailed 
from our anchorage at Angel Fish Creek for 
Miami at 7130 and the boat flew up the Hawk 
Channel before a strong southerly blow as if 
she longed to get home. She was tied up to 
Tuttle’s dock in the early afternoon. We en¬ 
trained for the North on Sunday night and ar¬ 
rived five hours late on Tuesday afternoon, with¬ 
out accident or any excuse for such tardiness. 
The fact was emphasized in the beginning that 
we arrived at Miami exactly on time, which 
shows the roads can conform to their schedule, 
and there seems no adequate reason for the fre¬ 
quent delays which passengers are obliged to 
endure. 
The best month for tarpon fishing on the 
East Coast in the scribe’s judgment is April, 
before the flies become troublesome and the heat 
severe. The tarpon’s favorite food is mullet, 
which fish, in April, desert the channels, and go 
up to spawn in the shallow water of rivers and 
creeks where tarpon cannot follow, consequently 
the latter are particularly hungry in April and 
more ready than in any month of the year to 
take miscellaneous bait and especially mullet, if 
the angler can succeed in netting them. One 
finds that the guides frequently advise fishing by 
night, and we ourselves are of the opinion that 
the angler gets more strikes after dark than dur¬ 
ing the daylight, but personally the scribe does 
not recommend night fishing except possibly on 
very bright moonlight nights, for one loses the 
pleasure of seeing the magnificent fish leap in 
the air, his silver scales glistening in the bright 
sunlight and his immense head dashing from 
side to side in his effort to disgorge the hook. 
Fishing on a dark and windy evening in a small 
boat in the fierce running Florida tides does not 
appeal to the scribe as a jovial occupation. One 
is always out of sight, and often out of hail of 
one’s companions and loses the pleasure of see¬ 
ing them play their fish which, to the true sports¬ 
man, is almost as great as playing his own. With 
plenty of time and with still, clear weather, the 
angler can land by daylight enough tarpon to 
satisfy any reasonable ambition. 
The scribe would advise sportsmen to have 
their yacht meet them at Long Key Fishing Camp 
and to proceed direct to Bahia Honda, which he 
believes to be the point where large tarpon are 
most numerous late in the season. It is advis¬ 
able to have two fifteen-ounce rods, an ample 
supply of No. 27 thread tarpon line, a large gaff 
and accurate scales weighing up to 600 pounds, 
as there is much pleasure in knowing the exact 
weight of your catch. 
Personal equipment consists of the fewest 
clothes possible. One can now buy excellent 
trousers for fishing purposes for $1 a pair in 
Miami. Two pairs of those, with one old coat 
for cool evenings, one-half dozen flannel shirts 
and necessary underwear constitute all one needs 
with the addition of a couple of pairs of sneak¬ 
ers, purchasable at Miami at fifty cents per pair. 
Expenses vary according to the requirements 
and resources of the party, but it may be said 
in general terms that a trip of one month, with 
seven mouths to feed, will cost in the neighbor¬ 
hood of $2,000, including railway fares, sleep¬ 
ing accommodations and meals en route from 
and to New York, charter party, supplies, tips 
to the crew and all incidentals. It is well to 
keep a vigilant eye on supplies, of which even 
the best stewards are sometimes very wasteful. 
Perishable stuff, like meats and ice, is sent down 
from time to time by rail from Miami in re¬ 
sponse to telegraph requests. The ice is packed 
in sawdust covered with burlap and somewhat 
resembles a cotton bale in size and shape. The 
waste is not as great as one would expect in 
such a hot climate, but nevertheless the item for 
ice runs up into high figures, and fishermen 
should see that the steward does not crack up a 
huge panful every time that they want a small 
lump for a Scotch and soda. It is advisable to 
put one of the party in charge of all these little 
details, and if he exercises close supervision, ex¬ 
penses for supplies may be materially curtailed. 
The scribe would suggest that a very clear un¬ 
derstanding should be had with the captain be¬ 
fore starting, as to what extras, if any, he in¬ 
tends to charge for, over and above charter party. 
We understood, for instance, that we were pay¬ 
ing $25 a day for the yacht fully equipped with 
three boats, but when settling up time came, 
found an unexpected additional charge of $100 
for the launch. Such “extras” can only be 
avoided by having everything written out and 
signed in advance. 
In conclusion it may be said that it is de¬ 
lightful to escape from the abominable Northern 
spring, and that no trip offers more healthful 
recreation and finer sport than a fishing cruise 
among the Florida Keys. 
A Mississippi Deerless Deer Hunt 
M ARSE WALLACE, oh, Marse Wallace!” 
came the negro call from outside the 
big shanty-boat in which we were sitting 
about the fire on that snappy November night. 
“Marse Wallace, can you all come to de doah?” 
My friend winked at me, said that he was 
about to be touched for a two bit loan, hitched 
up his trousers and felt of his pistol pocket and 
went to the side door, where he emerged from 
a darkened room into the black night, feeling 
his way along the guard-walk of the shanty craft. 
By AMOS BURHANS 
“Who is it, out there?” Wallace queried. 
“Hit’s me, Marse Wallace—Jake,” answered 
heavy black voice. 
“Come to the front end and up the plank. 
I’ll bring a lamp,” answered Wallace, and he re¬ 
entered the shanty. I have forgotten now just 
how many miles it was to the closest white 
neighbor—only two white families in a large 
radius—and they never took chances, self- 
preservation being a first law here along the 
Mississippi River bottoms in the State. 
Jake strode up the gang plank, shielding his 
eyes with his hands and feeling the way, cau¬ 
tiously. A fall into the soft mud along the bank 
at this time of the year was not good for the 
general health. Into the lamplit cabin he came 
with news of a buck and doe having been seen 
in the “cawnfield” out near the point. 
The Wanderlust, on which I and my family 
were cruising down the Mississippi, had picked 
up a “two-legged ’coon” hunter of the Caucasian 
complexion who was seeking the thief of his 
