ye: 
FORESTSAND STREAM, 

A Bit of History. 
When the old man Harden, cousin to Abe Lin- 
coln and father of George, the best guide around 
Mohawk, having had a slight difference of opin- 
ion with the sheriff, and having proven very 
handy with his long Kentucky rifle, came and set- 
tled near Lake Apopka, this country was pretty 
near a wilderness. Deer were everywhere, bears 
too thick for comfort and all kinds of small game 
abundant. A half dozen deer could be jumped 
from the saw palmetto around any. little lake. A 
band of twenty-eight came down to drink at Lake 
Juanita of an evening. A certain hide hunter, 
when he could not longer get five a day, thought 
they were getting scarce and left. And of bear 
stories I heard a “right smart” number, but as I 
have no permit from Allen Kelley and Seton- 
Thompson I will keep them to tell around the 
camp fire. 
Later came the settlers and truck farmers, and 
then followed the few years of great prosperity; 
men doubled, trebled and quadrupled their money 
raising tomatoes, string beans, lettuce, celery. 
Whiz! price of land went sky high—bang! the 
freeze of 1904 and down like the rocket stick. 
The people thought it would never freeze in these 
sand hills, and everywhere one sees the evidence 
of their misplaced confidence—old fields now 
grown up to scrub oak, abandoned houses and 
orange groves. 
But the raising of fruit and vegetables is com- 
ing back slowly, safely, reasonably, and within a 
short distance of Mohawk are splendid groves 
of orange and grape fruit, and around the shores 
of Apopka and other lakes the rich black ham- 
mock land is again yielding early vegetables of 
the most superior quality. 
Florida Cowboys. 
I will venture to say that very few if any of 
you have ever thought of Florida as a cattle 
country. But the cattle business is big, very big. 
Remember, first, that the country is practically 
unfenced, the cattle roam at will. The owner- 
ship is mostly in the hands of a few men who 
have grown rich at the business. Marvelous 
tales are told of men buying a few cows and 
growing rich in a few years. 
There are no ranch buildings to maintain, no 
herding, no taxes, no enemies, either man or 
beast, no cold. It is said the cattle men are solid 
with the Legislature; there are stringent laws 
for their protection. There is harmony between 
the cattle owners and the turpentine and hog men. 
The original stock, a rather “scrubby” lot, came 
from Cuba and south. It was thought northern 
cattle could not thrive there, but now blooded 
bulls are being brought here and the stock is be- 
ing improved. 
There are two round-ups, the spring round-up, 
when the calves are branded and the cattle driven 
to the “flat woods” for summer; and the fall 
round-up, when the fat steers are cut out and 
driven to market and the rest are driven to the 
hills for winter. 
The Florida cowboy lacks the picturesque garb 
of his Western cousin, but he rides a small horse 
equally as tough and equally as uncertain in dis- 
position; he finds his way through the untracked 
woods in as wonderful a way as the Westerner 
crosses the prairie, and it is worth the trip to 
hear the native Florida cowman give the “cow 
call.” This call is indescribable, but when well 
done is the sweetest melody that I ever heard 
from a human throat. It can be heard a mar- 
velous distance. I know Northerners who have 
practiced faithfully for three years and couldn’t 
touch it. It is the Florida cracker’s birthright. 
These cowmen carry a short handled whip, with 
lash twelve to eighteen feet trailing behind, and 
which they can crack like a .30-30. 
Commencing about the first of March, a few 
riders go through the woods slowly, dropping 
here and there lighted matches in the dry grass. 
The whole country is thus burned over in the 
course of a couple of months. The fresh green 
grass which springs up after the fire is fine feed; 
if the grass is not burned it becomes tall and wiry 
and unfit for cattle and then a fire would be a 
serious matter. 
The cattle are all branded and ear-marked and 
an experienced rider knows them all as a monk 

FLORIDA WATERWAYS, 
knows his litany. Most of the steers are butch- 
ered in Tampa, some going to Cuba. During the 
Spanish war there was a big trade with the island. 
The Razorback.. 
The razorback hog is the pest of the small 
farmer and is cordially hated by nearly all the 
residents who are not owners. The owners are 
many, however. The pure razorback is not a 
beauty; he will go through anything but woven 
wire; he is afraid of nothing, yet he is shy and 
will always run unless molested. Our ‘pointers 
occasionally got mixed up with a sow and young, 
and then there was “‘something doing.’ These 
hogs are all ear-marked, or cropped, as they call 
it, and run at large. The “hog law” of Florida 
is a “long-distance,” high power affair and most 
of the residents stand in awe of it, though it is 
said that around many of the better places hog 
graves are numerous. The law prescribes how 
fences shall be built, and the truck gardener must 
fence the hogs out, the owner is not required to 
fence them in. I have an idea, however, that the 
vengeance of the hog owners is more dreaded 
than the law. They tell a good story of a woman 
who tried raising turkeys; her neighbot’s hogs 
broke up the nests and ate the eggs. The sut- 
ferer wrote the county judge asking if she would 
be within her rights to shoot the intruding hogs 
on her own grounds. The magistrate replied that 
she would not; but that if she would come to T. 
(the county. seat) he would tell her something. 
She went and that worthy spoke in about this 
language: “If you shoot your neighbor’s hogs I 
will have to send you up; but if you shoot him 
I will see that you get off.” 
They say the hogs are not as numerous nor of 
so good quality as formerly, although there was 
“a plenty’ and many of them showed good blood 
and were in good condition. 
The Turpentine Industry. 
Lake county, like most of the State, is a turpen- 
tine county; the long-leaf pitch pine grows every- 
where and the turpentine camps .are working 
gradually southward. Much money is made in 
this business. If possible the land is bought out- 
right, some from northern owners who have 
never seen it. Some is bid in for taxes, some- 
times the price is 50 cents an acre, sometimes 
much ‘more. Sometimes the trees only are bought, 
and occasionally the turpentine rights only. The 
lumbermen follow the stills, and when it no 
longer pays to work the trees for turpentine, they 
go for lumber; 10,000 “boxes,” one to four boxes 
on a tree, according to size, usually about 7,500 
trees, form what is called a “crop.” ; 
The choppers who do the boxing must be ex- 
pert ax men. The ax is nine inches long, weighs 
seven pounds and has a chisel edge. With this 
tool a notch about four to six inches deep is cut 
on one, two, three or four sides of the tree, ac- 

OUR CAMP, 
