210 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Feb. ii, 1911 - 
limestone overlaid with sandy soil and a vege¬ 
tation ranging from poor palmetto and oak 
scrub, to the rank growth of semi-tropic swamp 
or bottomland. This rim is from three to 
twelve miles from the ocean edge of the coastal 
plain on the east; and on the west an average 
distance of forty to fifty miles from the Gulf. 
So far as explored it extends all round the edge 
of the central basin, forming a great saucer-like 
depression that dips slightly on the north 
toward Lake Okeechobee. 
The rock bottom of the basin that forms the 
Glades is as uninterrupted as its rim. Wherever 
one can reach it with a pole or paddle under the 
muck and mire overlaying it, the sound is un¬ 
mistakably that of solid rock bottom, varying 
from a foot to ten or twelve feet in places, but 
with a general depth of from four to six feet 
beneath the surface. Over all this is a layer 
of muck, the depth of which depends on the 
depth of the rock floor underneath. In the 
muck the sawgrass grows rank, to ten feet in 
height. Unnumbered springs fill this vast basin 
with water, finding outlet not only in the big 
lake northward but from numerous small rivers, 
like the Caloosahatchie, Chitahatchie, Harney, 
Shark, on the Gulf coast, and the Miami, New, 
and a few other small streams on the east 
coast. 
This great lake, including Okeechobee and 
other smaller lakes outside the Glades proper, 
all formed the ancient Lake Mayaimi of the old 
Calos Indians. It is not, as many suppose, a 
mere swamp or marsh, nor a pool of stagnant 
water, but a veritable lake. The water is ever 
moving, yet no water shed drains into it, nor 
any stream, for the water courses all flow from 
it. From two sources is this overabundant sup¬ 
ply of water derived; from precipitation and 
from subterranean overflow. During the rainy 
season the precipitation is often ten inches a 
month, but in that warm zone, the evaporation 
is also tremendous. Therefore, precipitation 
can account for only a small percentage of the 
clear limpid water which fills the Glades. A ge¬ 
ologist, however, would soon determine the na¬ 
ture of the main supply. The Eocene limestone 
that is the final substrata of this region abounds 
in springs and hidden, underground streams, 
and is so permanent a source of subterranean 
reservoirs that wherever artesian wells have 
been sunk along the coast, an abundant volu- 
ume of fresh water responds, even at the very 
edge of the sea itself. 
One explorer tells of a mammoth spring 
from which, he declared, all these Glades 
might be supplied. Others observed “many 
large basins through which currents converged 
and into which the waters were lost.” The ef¬ 
fect of precipitation is shown in the rapid rise 
of water there, but the effect of underground 
supply is evident in the constant volume of wa¬ 
ter fresh, undefiled, clear, and though warm¬ 
ish at times, always palatable. One singular 
condition is that the water moves, apparently 
in one mass, with a general trend toward the 
outlets into the ocean. At the same time cur¬ 
rents and counter-currents are constantly met. 
These are doubtless caused by openings in. the 
rocky floor underneath the muck layers through 
which the waters seep, finding egress under¬ 
ground to various flowing springs along the 
coast. These currents begin, seemingly without 
reason, and certainly lead nowhere in particular, 
ending usually in a surface still pool, where the 
sawgrass bars further progress. 
Scattered along the eastern and western edges 
of the Glades are uncounted islands, usually 
based on outcropping of the rock strata, which 
are covered by a rich, dark mould. They vary 
in size, some having a dry, cultivable area of 
several hundred acres. The alluvial islands that 
are intermingled with these are wet, but the 
outcrop islands are habitable, and respond gen¬ 
erously to the scratchy methods of the Sem- 
inoles, producing with very little labor all the 
temperate and sub-tropic fruits and vegetable 
products. Of late the whites are invading these 
islands with more thorough methods and the 
results are astonishing. Naturally, these islands 
in the Glades are covered with luxuriant forests 
of live-oak, bay, magnolia, cabbage palm, wild 
rubber, custard apple, and the ever present 
koontie or wild arrowroot. This last is one of 
the mainstays of the Seminole. From its roots 
he extracts flour and starch, both digestible and 
appetizing. There are orchids in large numbers 
and of great variety and beauty. On many 
islands grow giant ferns, the fronds of which 
often reach nine or ten feet in length. Cocoa 
plums grow all about the edges of the Glades, 
producing both blue and white fruit according 
to species and location. 
Wild animal life is fairly abundant in and 
about the Glades, especially where the larger 
islands lay. Deer are found around the edges, 
and in the alluvial, swampy parts bears are not 
infrequent. The panther has not disappeared 
here, as it has from places less akin to civiliza¬ 
tion. Otters are plentiful; also the alligator, 
now much depleted elesewhere in Florida. 
Bird life has suffered much at the hands of 
the vandal plume hunter, though later laws and 
their more rigid enforcement have operated 
favorably. This region was once a favorite 
breeding place for the egret, ibis, heron, white 
and pink curlew, and the pelican. Along the 
edges was this especially so. The limpkin, (re¬ 
sembling an overgrown snipe) a large duck, not 
unlike the brant, and the Glade kite, are all pe¬ 
culiar to this region. Along the salt water coast 
bayous, of course, many other species either mi¬ 
grate here each season or remain permanently, 
but they are not more indigenous to the Glades 
than to many other climatic localities. 
Many kinds of fish inhabit the fresh water— 
bass, perch, gar and other well-known species. 
The Glade terrapin and flat soft-shelled turtles, 
both edible, are plentiful. On the larger islands 
and in the Big Cypress on the west side the 
wild turkey is yet in evidence, often so tame and 
unsuspicious as to make the hunter feel mean, 
as one taking undue advantage might feel. 
Snakes are too plentiful—rattlers, moccasins, 
hoopsnakes, coach-whips and so on abound so 
that one wonders how the Indians, habitually 
bare-limbed from knee to foot, escape being 
bitten. The Seminole, however, possesses an 
antidote in some simple weed, known to but 
few outside of the tribe. 
One would think that insect life would be very 
abundant in the Glades, but this is true only as 
to certain localities. Free from stagnation as is 
the water, everywhere so abundant, it furnishes 
few breeding places in the Glades proper, but 
on many of the islands, and on the east and 
west margins, owing to contiguous swamps and 
luxuriant foliage, there are many mosquitoes, 
sandflies and other pests. Gnats, small flies and 
the ubiquitous flea soon find out one’s camp in 
these locations. The Indians do not seem to 
mind them. When they accepted a moiety of 
civilization in the form of the domestic hog, the 
flea attached itself, and both savage and pig 
wallow fraternally in the same quarters; the hog 
below on the ground, the Indian a foot or two 
over the hog on the first and only floor of his 
palmetto-thatched house. 
This remnant of the Seminoles is unquestion¬ 
ably the most interesting of the occupants of the 
Everglades. We thrill yet at thinking of old 
Osceola and his long fight against the paleface. 
This offshoot of the great Greek tribe of the 
mid-South made its way to the Florida wilder¬ 
ness, and there dwelling in quiet until summoned 
by our Government to give up their refuge and 
go west, defied the summons and boldly giving 
battle, baffled all the military forces of the 
United States for years. Their stronghold was 
the Everglades that welcomed the naked red 
man and barred out his armed white opponent. 
But for these watery solitudes, the Florida war 
would have been an easy, brief affair. The re¬ 
lentless sawgrass wore out the baffled soldiers, 
while it sheltered the Seminole, secure in his 
knowledge of its secret tortuous water paths. 
And the Everglades are still the Indians’ home. 
The stubborn remnant that remained after the 
main body of the tribe was deported west has 
long been tolerated by the State authorities, while 
the Indian Bureau at Washington pretends not 
to know of them. Surely they have earned their 
right to be let alone. Where they live in the 
scattered islands in the sawgrass no one else 
would care to live—at least not yet. 
All told they number less than 500 and are 
of two main families, the Muskokis and the 
Mikasukis. They live by hunting and fishing, 
while their women cultivate patches of maize, 
sweet potatoes and other simple crops on the 
islands where their little villages are. The 
houses are merely palmetto-roofed huts of six 
poles, set upright in the ground with a platform 
about three feet high. The family live, eat and 
sleep on the platform, and underneath the pigs, 
chickens and dogs indiscriminately wallow, roost 
and disseminate filth and fleas. 
When the water is low, the Glades resemble 
far-reaching prairies, with here and there dis¬ 
tant clumps of forest, outlining islands. When 
the water is high it is not prominently seen, for 
the sawgrass hides all, save the multitudinous 
network of channels leading seemingly every¬ 
where, yet in reality nowhere, save to these In¬ 
dians who know it as a man does the streets 
of his home town. As for the climate of the 
Glades, all unite in declaring it to be nearly fault¬ 
less. It is equable, showing no extremes of heat 
and cold, nor is it subject to sudden change. 
The winter northers coming from regions of 
snow and ice are softened to milder temperature 
when they reach the Glades. The heat of sum¬ 
mer is made genial by the winds that sweep 
across from the nearby ocean on every side but 
the north. Here they strike Lake Okeechobee, 
a veritable inland sea that still further tempers 
the climate of the Glades which are south of 
the lake. 
There is, roughly speaking, a dry and a wet 
season, the last continuing from June to Septem¬ 
ber, inclusive. Yet at any time variable showers 
may occur, often accompanied by thunder and 
