150 
March, 1918 
FOREST AND STREAM 
The Seminole “observation chief” poles out to investigate 
When the White Man enters a village he finds it deserted 
ber of the Coco Plum family, which 
stood proudly upon one of the highest 
points of the island. A quarter of a mile 
from camp, they also saw custard apples, 
luxuriantly dominating a lone hammock. 
Fortunately, as events transpired, not a 
single shot had been fired, and progress 
through the thickets had been accomplished 
without undue racket, when Mr. King, 
coming unexpectedly upon a little lagoon, 
warm and brilliant in the morning sun, 
made a motion to his companions to re¬ 
main absolutely quiet. They tip-toed up 
to him and as he parted the leaves of a 
red bay, peered into the open water way. 
A big blue heron stood upon a decayed 
log, his gorgeous plumage glistening in 
the sunshine. In his bill wriggled a water 
moccasin, making frantic efforts to escape. 
But no sooner had the snake been gulped 
down, than the heron winged upward and 
away over the tops of the trees. It had 
all happened in a second. 
Mr. King slipped his kodak into his side 
pocket with a grunt of disgust. Catlow, 
with rifle poised, echoed the sentiment. 
“What made him jump into ‘high’ like 
that!” the disgruntled marksman cried, “it 
was as if there was a string tied to his tail 
and something yanked it.” 
“You’ll see a sight of that description 
once in a lifetime,” explained Mr. King, 
“the big blue heron is the most timid of 
all ’Glade birds. The Indians have made 
them impossible of approach. You can 
seldom get within five hundred yards of 
the wily chaps. This specimen—and I 
never saw a finer one—was so busy with 
his breakfast that he failed to hear us, or, 
if he did, thought nothing of it. The blue 
heron lives on small snakes. They are his 
special delicacy.” 
“He gets mighty fine pickings in these 
parts, then,” observed Catlow, “they’re 
as thick as the saw grass. I wouldn’t 
take a swim out there, even in a suit of 
of mail.” 
“I might tell you,” continued Mr. King, 
“that the drying up of the ’Glades, due 
to the various canals, is playing havoc 
with the birds here. The finer ones are 
fast disappearing. They lack feeding 
grounds. There are, occasionally, in the 
southern portion, a few green leg white 
herons as well as small blue and Louis¬ 
iana blues, but five years has made a 
marked change. Of the food birds, the 
limpkin are found only occasionally. A 
guide told me his record was two in a 
season.” 
“What of the migratory birds?” in¬ 
quired Catlow. 
“The best of them is the big Florida 
mallard,” Mr. King said, “and a right 
prime favorite, too. But his cupboard is 
no longer filled with food and, save in 
the surrounding country, even the mal¬ 
lard is migrating elsewhere.” 
“But I have heard you tell of lots of 
game of every kind, Dad,” interjected 
King Jr.. 
“Whatever may be the conditions in 
the ’Glades themselves,” said his Father, 
“the country adjacent to the mangrove 
seems to be the real hunting and game 
land. A few miles back from the man¬ 
grove fringe, the waterways converge 
into deeper and more pronounced chan¬ 
nels of moderately rapid flow, and often 
quite deep. Here the banks are more 
pronounced and rather dry, and are cov¬ 
ered abundantly with grass. You will 
find large beds of Bermuda grass, soft, 
succulent and nourishing. On the edges 
of the mangrove fringe are the ideal shel¬ 
ters- for game in scrubs and hammocks. 
Areas of open cabbage palm are very 
popular, too. Sometimes these ham¬ 
mocks are skirted by a fairly presentable 
growth of cypress and, of course, the lar¬ 
ger and denser the growth the more 
game to be found. This holds good for 
nearly all this country, except where the 
white man is found.” 
“I still believe we’ll run into all the 
game we can handle right HERE!” in¬ 
sisted the always hopeful Catlow. 
“I have described the Eastern side of 
the Everglades,” said Mr. King, “as far 
South as the extremity of those islands 
which go to form the Big Pine Key 
Archipelago. However, to the West of 
this, across North River, and into the 
district at the headwaters of the Shark 
and Harney Rivers, the game is still 
plentiful. There you will find panther, 
deer, wild goats, bear, ’coons, ’possums, 
squirrels, etc. Catlow, you are interested 
in birds. . . . it is a safe haven for 
ibis, night heron, big blue, little blue, 
Louisiana heron, big white and little 
white egret, green leg herons, limpkin, 
curlew, owls without end and every 
known member of the hawk family. 
“In the streams are several varieties of 
duck, coots, and smaller chaps, living 
upon the grass in the bottoms. Craw¬ 
fish and shrimp, inhabiting the rocky bed 
of the ’Glade sloughs, are much in favor. 
Taking up their quarters a few miles 
from the mangrove fringe, they thrive 
wonderfully, building homes in the holes 
in the rock, into which they scoot at the 
near approach of danger. Inversely, is 
the advantage of the long-billed bird, 
who can reach into these holes and grab 
his victim away from his own fireside. 
(continued on page 185) 
1 
T 
P 
^ ‘JB 
The Seminoles build very ingenious temporary shelters 
The homespun dresses are exceptionally brilliant in color 
