


FOREST AND STREAM. 






























































SSS SESS : 
INDIAN MODE OF KILLING ALLIGATORS. 





From the drawing by Jaques Le Moyne, in De Bry’s Brevis Narratio, 1563. 
night. Occasionally—not too often—we took 
a boat and rowed leisurely across just before 
sunset, took our positions on the point at the 
edge of the trees, and with pockets well filled 
with shells awaited the charge. 
_ The sun, a glorious red ball, sinks down be- 
hind the pines, and almost at once the darkness 
commences; there is no twilight in Florida. 
But here they come—two, four, ten, a dozen; 
and can they fly? Well, some. Five birds with 
twenty-five shells was the best I could ever 
do. But it was furious. The dim light, the 
rocket-like flight combined to tax your skill to 
the limit. 
In fifteen minutes it is all over, except the 
gastronomic part. Temptingly served, these 
birds will make a vegetarian forget his vows. 
The Deer Hunting. 
The Florida deer, while undoubtedly the same 
as his cousin in Maine or the Adirondacks, is 
very small; a full-grown buck weighing 150 
pounds is the limit. 
There are two methods of hunting, and both 
are uncertain. I am speaking of Lake county. 
There are doubtless other places where one 
would be more sure of success. Still-hunting in 
the sand hills requires the acme of skill as a 
tracker and still-hunter. 
The country is open, and the chances of ap- 
proaching the game unobserved is rather slight. 
The deer in small bands may be found in the 
dry hollows of what were once small ponds. 
The trailing of them, however, requires a 
| thorough knowledge of the country, of the 
| habits of the deer and infinite skill and patience. 
Our guide, George Harding, possessed all these 
qualities and was the most wonderful tracker I 
have ever seen. Remember the soil is almost 
all dry sand. 
Some of the guests at the Jolly Palms got a 
few shots in this way. The other method which 
I tried is less strenuous and more interesting. 
We went down to Green Swamp camping and 
put in a few days at it. George has a yellow 
dog that would trail without giving tongue. 
With this dog he would go into the almost 1m- 
penetrable bay heads, swampy coves covered 
with a thick growth of trees and in which saw 
palmetto, brambles and briers grow in a tangled 
mass; and would jump the deer, and we took 
our chances of a shot on the outside when the 
game broke cover. We started and saw a 
number of deer. The results were not such as 
to warrant my recommending sportsmen going 
down for this sport alone, but there is always 
a chance that you will score, and it adds one 
more to the endless variety of Florida shooting. 
Camping. 
It is an ideal camping country, dry and not 
too cold. Wood everywhere, and such wood! 
The dry resinous pine will light with a match 
without the aid of fine stuff, and it makes a hot 
fire and lasts well. They say that natives whe 
go away always come back as they won’t stay 
where there is no ‘“fat-wood” or “light-wood.” 
Those of you who have struggled to get your 
camp-fire to burn in the north would appreciate 
this fuel. Everything in the south is conducive 
to an easy, lazy life. 
The long, gray Spanish moss makes a good 
bed. Clear soft water is always at hand, fish 
and game are plentiful. If you go to Mohawk, 
don’t fail to take at least one trip to Green 
Swamp or some other equally interesting place 
in this semi-tropical country. 
Bass Fishing. 
Most of the Florida waters abound in large- 
mouth black bass, and Lake county is as good 
as any place in the State. He isn’t quite the 
equal in gameness of his small-mouthed relative, 
but he will give you lots of sport. 
Equipment: A boat of any kind, a bait- 
casting rod 4% or 5 feet long, a reel with 
spooler, 150 feet light, strong, black line (not 
oil silk) and a surface bait for the dark-colored 
or cypress waters, and under-water baits for the 
clear waters. A gaff or net, stringer and—weil, 
you fishermen know. This isn’t very explicit, 
but I am more a hunter than a fisherman, and 
I am going to turn you over to Billy Bass for 
all detailed information. 
It was at Mohawk we met Billy Bass and his 
charming little wife, who is almost his equal as 
a fisherman, and Billy is the best there is. A 
Cracker once saw him in a boat on a lake some- 
thing less than a quarter of a mile wide, and 
afterward sifted into Mineola and reported, ‘1 
just seen a young fellah with a short rod with 
a windlass on’t an’ a line no bigger’n a spider’s 
webb; and he could stand in a boat in that 
yere Jake and cast to either shore—he shore 
could.” And I half believe the Cracker. 
Billy Bass owns a small gasolene launch 
and if you are lucky enough to make his ac- 
quaintance and he takes you for a trip down 
through the chain of lakes and the river you 
will see some charming waterways and get all 
the fishing you want; for as they say down there 
