
rare sight to see, but I have neither time nor space in this 
article to particularize on the subject as I would wish. 
The life of a trapper is a life of hard work, with a rough 
time, not a little interspersed, to be sure, with incidents of 
adventure, often of danger, in their encounters with the 
larger animals, the bear, the lynx, and more especially the 
catamount, or the American panther, but fortunately the 
latter is not often met with now even in our wilder regions. 
It was several days after our adventure with the wolves 
that my attention was drawn by loud shouting at a distance. 
Upon going to the door, and looking up the river, there we 
saw big Ralph coming on the ice swinging something in 
his hand, and yelling at the top of his voice at every step, 
“Pye got him; I’ve got him; here’s the cuss.” Upon ap- 
proaching nearer sure enough there was the reptile, a very 
large full grown fisher, measuring plump twenty-eight 
inches, with his splendid bushy tail of fully eighteen inches 
more. He was as black as jet, and in prime order. And 
wasn’t Ralph as tickled over it asa boy with his first knife? 
Ralph found him with his back broken at the fall we had 
last rigged up, and without stopping to skin him or to visit 
his other falls, he had hurried back to our camp, a distance 
of three miles, to show his prize. Well, that was. a big 
day for Ralph. J ACOBSTAFF, 
—__~9 
SKETCHES IN FLORIDA. 
EE pte ee 
UP THE ST. JOHNS RIVER. 
oaws SPER 
pve winters ago the writer was one of a merry dozen 
who, on pleasure bent, helped swell the overwhelm- 
ing stream of tourists who, fleeing from the northern cold, 
sought shelter in the sunny.south. After various incidents 
of travel we found ourselves in the crowded parlors of the 
St. James, at Jacksonville, and planned our trip. Two 
years have wrought great changes since then, even in that 
sleepy land, and I am pleased that this winter’s flock of 
tourists will find better hotel accommodations everywhere 
than fell to our lot on that day. Even as it was—Tocoi 
Railroad and all—that trip is one to be remembered a life 
time, and all who can make it shoulddo so. 
We left Jacksonviile on a bright warm morning in the 
Florence, a comfortable boat, with courteous and obliging 
officers, and comfortably seated on deck enjoyed the trip 
exceedingly from Jacksonville to Tocoi, Every mile car- 
ried us farther from the frosty north. The St. John isa 
magnificent stream. Originating among the everglades in 
the south of Florida, it flows northward nearly three hun- 
dred miles, when it bends sharply to the east, and empties 
into the ocean twenty-three miles from Jacksonville, which 
is at the bend. For over one hundred miles from its. 
- mouth it will average three miles in breadth, expanding oc- 
casionally into beautiful lakes. Thus the first day of our 
trip we were in such wide waters that, except as we ap- 
proached the landings, we did not get the benefit of the 
semi-tropical scenery of the banks. But the air was soft 
and balmy, the sky blue, water smooth and clear, and we, 
just started and fresh, were in high spirits and enjoyed 
every moment. 
Our first landing was at Mandarin, where amid’an orange 
grove and splendid group of water oaks, Mrs. Stowe has 
built herself a home. The place is but a hamlet, and after 
delivering our mail we hurry along; but not until they 
have rounded a point and shut in’ the view do the tourists 
relinquish their gaze upon this sunny southern home. 
Twelve miles farther carries us to Magnolia. At this point 
we found a goodly assemblage of guests. The hotel ac- 
commodations are the best, the hotel itself is beautifully 
situated, and a good table, with good attendance, insure a 
good time. Black creek isa navigable stream for fisher- 
men and sportsmen. Ona sunny day its banks are lined 
with alligators, while fish and game of all descriptions are 
plentiful. Two miles. above Magnolia is Green Cove 
Springs, where is also a good hotel and boarding house. 
This is a great resort for invalids, who can enjoy daily a 
bath in the sulphur spring, which has given the place its 
importance. This famous spring is situated about a hun- 
dred yards from the landing, amid a group of great water 
oaks, which, covered with hanging festoons of grey moss 
and mistletoe, add to its beauty more than any artificial 
setting could to this emerald gem. The spring boils up in 
great lumps from a deep crevice, and fills a pool some 
twenty feet in diameter, with its bright but greenish hued 
water clear as a crystal—a green crystal. Every little speck 
on the bottom is distinctly visible, even in the deep crev- 
ice, which is, I should judge, about twenty feet in depth. 
The outlet forms quite a little river, and over it a bathing 
house has been built, and here those suffering with rheu- 
matic or kindred complaints luxuriate in its warm em- 
brace. Seventy six degrees is the average temperature 
summer and winter, seldom varying from this point more 
than a degree or two. The water is slightly sulphurous; 
more perceptibly so in the odor than in the taste, but suffi- 
ciently to banish any form of animal or reptile life from 
its proximity. This, ina country, which snakes are said 
to frequent, is in itself a great inducement, but I am in- 
clined to think that the snake crop of Florida is vasuly over- 
rated. Anold hunter told me that he had been out for 
deer at least three times a week since Christmas, and had 
not encountered a snake. Onthe other hand, one of the 
natives informed me that “‘there was aright smart chance 
of moccasins.” But wherever else they may locate, the 
Green Cove Spring is exempt, and the invalid may enjoy 
his bath without a nervous tremor. 
About noon we arrived at Tocoi, or, as we afterwards 
dubbed it, Decoy, forty-five miles from Jacksonville. This 
miserable apology for a place contains one old tumble-down 
house, and two tough board shanties, which latter consti- 

FOREST AND STREAM. 
tute the depot at the western terminns of the St. Augustine 
Railroad. This road is fifteen miles in length, and should 
make an easy approach to St. Augustine. We thought we 
were nearly there, but we knew more about it soon after- 
ward. Could we have but foreseen the hardships we were 
to go through with we might have decided not to proceed. 
Two hours’ strolling about or sitting on logs under the 
shadeless pines used up our time, while a little asthmatic 
tea kettle of a steam engine was being tinkered into going 
condition. Finally, ready for its task, it was hitched 
to two dilapidated boxes on wheels, into which, by tight 
crowding, we succeeded in squeezing ourselves. The day 
was chilly, the cars full of cracks and drafts; where there 
should have been windows: but the holes remained; and 
water proofs and capes had to be substituted for glass. We 
needed but a rain to complete our discomfort. The road 
itself is, if possible, more disgraceful than the cars, the 
rails of pine and cypress (no iron) were worn, chipped, 
shivered, and rotten. We smashed?one flat to the ties, and 
had a narrow escape from being capsized into the swamp, 
and had our engine the power to have bumped us along a 
few feet further, we should have had a serious, perhaps 
fatal, accident to wind up our pleasure trip. As it was, all 
hands turned out, and lifting our crazy vans again upon the 
track we crawled along for nearly five hours, delaying at 
times to put a new rail on the track, to dip a few bucket- 
fuls of muddy water from the ditch into the boiler, or to 
cut up a log to furnish nutriment to our wheezy little en- 
gine. At last, the fifteen miles accomplished, we reached 
St. Augustine tired and worn out. May we never have to 
go over that road again. The road leads through a swampy 
country, and some of the scenery was almost grand; great 
cypress trees, with their swollen feet standing in murky 
pools, and draped with huge ‘‘weepers” of grey moss hang- 
ing from every branch three to six feet in length; foul tur- 
key buzzards resting upon the lofty trees, or sailing about 
in muffled, noiselesss flight, gave a funereal character to 
the scenery from which Dante might have drawn his inspi- 
ration. Iam sure we saw the counterpart of the Stygian 
pool. And yet it was not all so gloomy. Bright hued 
flowers, green parasites entwining whole groups of adja- 
cent trees, great bunches of mistletoe on the oaks, and now 
and then a bright cardinal bird or blue jay flitting among 
the branches, gave us plenty to admire, and almost whiled 
away the time, and we had our own internal resources— 
songs, stories, and hard boiled eggs. 
In the morning, after our arrival at St. Augustine, our 
first trip was to the Oid Fort. This venerable pile of co- 
quina is interesting principally because of its antiquity, 
and from the historical ‘associations connected with it. 
“Started three hundred years ago, it was a hundred years in 
building. It was owned and garrisoned successively by 
Spanish, English, United States, and Confederate troops. 
It was bombarded by Sir Francis Drake’s fleet, the marks 
of whose balls are still visible on its sea face. It has 
gloomy dungeons, in one of which, discovered some years 
since by accident, two chained skeletons were found. It 
has an old vaulted chapel, with its altar and niches’for im- 
ages, now all defaced, and the floor marred and scarred as 
though it had been used to chop wood on. Our irreverent 
member thought that the old monks must have had sharp 
knees from the looks of the floor. The ‘‘Old Sergeant,” 
who acted as our cicerone, is a character, and relieved his 
dry statistics with a dryer humor, peculiarly his own. He 
showed us a dungeon where two Seminole chiefs—I forget 
their names—had been confined, and a slit in the wall 
through which one of them escaped. They must have 
starved that Indian very successfully before he could have 
accomplished it. A subterranean passage is popularly sup- 
posed to exist, connecting the fort with the convent, but it 
has not been found. In one of the dungeons the ‘‘Old Ser- 
geant sprang upon us what was evidently a.pet joke. Paus- 
ing in his tale until the loiterers were collected around him, 
and standing in chilly reverence, he told us of some pris- 
oners who, from that very dungeon, had attempted to es- 
cape by burrowing under the walls. He told us of the 
great distance to be undermined before reaching the moat 
and liberty—some thirty yards, I believe. Standing with 
his back to the wall he slowly lighted half a dozen dips as 
he talked, then turning suddenly aside he threw the con- 
centrated rays into a hole about two feet deep and curtly 
remarked, ‘‘They didn’t succeed.” With this coup de the- 
atre the old gentleman, satisfied that he had ended well, left 
us to find our way to the outer air and toa stroll through 
the narrow streets of the town, between the high dead walls 
and under the projecting balconies, that characterize the 
Spanish style of building, and give to St. Augustine an as- 
pect so different from anything to be seen elsewhere in 
the United States. The names of the streets, and the signs 
over the stores, show the Spanish origin of the inhabitants; 
for instance, our party were domiciled at Mrs. Mercedes’, 
Mrs. Hernandez’s, and Mrs. Seguis’, and we shopped at 
Madame Oliveros’. The Spanish cast of feature - prevails, 
too, and a dark eyed, black haired brunette whom I saw 
leaning over a balcony carried me back to days gone by, 
where in old Spain herself I have seen her counterpart. <A 
walk along the sea wall, built of coquina (a concrete of 
shells), which fronts the town, where the fresh sea breeze 
brought new. vigor to our tired steps, and a cruise among 
the establishments devoted to the manufacture of palmetto 
hats, brought our day to a close. These hats are being 
manufactured and sold in immense numbers, One lady— 
Madame Oliveros—who has the most extensive establis > 
ment, employs fifty women, and her sales in one season, I 
was told, amounted to seven thousand. ‘ ; 
We left St. Augustine with mixed emotions; while we 
had received the utmost kindness and hospitality from pri- 
275 
vate individuals, hitherto strangers to us, and were delight- 
ed with the quaint old fashioned town, and charmed with 
the warm pleasant climate tempered by a bracing sea breeze, 
we had nothing pleasant to remember of those whose duty 
it was to look out for the comfort of guests, and we felt 
that until good hotels, large enough and well enough con- 
ducted to furnish some comforts could be added to its 
present stock, and until some method of getting there free 
from the discomfort, anxiety, and danger of the Tocoi 
Railroad can be devised, the invalid shvuld avoid, and the 
pleasure seeker flee from, it. j 
Our trip to Tocoi was madein the same comfortless 
boxes, and a good hard rain was added to the previous 
discomforts. We got over without serious accident, but 
the pleasure of the rest of the trip was alloyed by the ill- 
ness of some of the more delicate, brought on by the hard- 
ship of the trip. 
At Tocoi we found the ‘‘Hattie” awaiting us—a small 
steamer, but necessarily so, as the rest of our trip was to 
be made in narrow streams and shoal water. We were 
very comfortable on board of her. The table was good, 
quarters clean, and the captain—Charley Brock—a good 
fellow. Our first stopping place was Pilatka, ten miles 
beyond, and here we remained until some time in the uight, 
to enable us to pass over the entrance to Lake George by 
daylight. This gave us oppportunity for a stroll about the 
town, which is the most important settlement upon the 
river, and to enjoy a most delicious supper at a well kept 
hotel, the Putnam house. ~ 
Pilatka is the head of navigation for the larger steamers 
plying on the river, and has considerable commerce. Leay- 
ing at midnight, we awoke the next morning in the midst 
of scenery ever to be remembered. The river is narrow, 
the banks but afew feet off, as the channel neared one 
shore or the other, and are densely covered with a tropical 
vegetation. Palms, palmettos, water oaks, and pines are 
the principal large trees, all festooned with gray moss. The 
stream is so crooked that at no one time can we sce half a 
mile in advance, thus gliding along with our visual limit 
constantly circumscribed, we seem to bein the centre of 
an ever advancing and ever changing panorama; herons, 
cranes, ducks, and other birds of all descriptions give ani- 
mation, and if the day be sunny countless aligators dozing 
upon the banks furnish rare sport to the sportsman. Some- 
times great monsters, twelve to fourteen feet in length, are 
seen, and eagerly shot, and if a large one be shot the oblig- 
ing captain will stop the boat to secure the head, which, 
when reduced to the condition of skull alone, is considered 
quite a curiosity, while the teeth are of beautiful ivory, 
and*are carved into all sorts of trinkets. Our day, though, 
was cold and rainy, and alligators scarce; few were seen, 
and none killed. At first the more timid of our lady com- 
panions objected shrinkingly to our firing from their midst, 
but after a few palpable misses they became convinced that 
our rifles were not. dangerous, even to the game, and from 
protesting against it became rather fond of the sport, and 
they all forgot that it was Sunday till a sharp rain drove us 
in and broke up the shooting match; then they expressed 
themselves! ; 
Just before sunset we entered Lake Munroe, where the 
river expands into a noble lake, over six miles in diameter. 
On its western side is situated the town of Mellenville, 
where we got such beauties of lemons, ten to twelve 
ounces each, and cheap—four cents apiece. Thence we 
crossed over to Enterprise. This little place consists of a 
hotel, a store, and two or three houses, and has a popula- 
tion of perhaps forty. Itis the farthest point to which a 
regular line of steamers plies, but to the sportsman there is 
still another hundred miles of narrow river, deep lagoons, 
gloomy bayous, and wild untrodden land, where all sorts 
of game, such as bears, wild turkeys, deer, and ducks are 
plentiful, and the waters teem with great varieties of fish. 
Splendid black bass, ten pounds in weight, abound (they 
call them trout here), besides bream, perch, and great cat- 
fish, from three pounds up to incredible figures. For the 
benefit of travellers, I would state that the story of the 
bears here being web-footed is not strictly in accordance 
with fact. There is a fair hotel at Enterprise. It is clean, 
beautifully situated near an orange grove, with a tine out- 
look on the lake, with a fine sulphur spring near by, and a 
little lake two miles inland, where our fishermen secured a 
fine string of black bass in an afternoon’s fishing, and a 
woody back country, which, when Tyson goes out with 
his hounds, will always yield at least one deer, and gener- 
ally more. From here parties penetrate into the Indian 
River country, where a bag of a dozen alligators is but an 
ordinary day’s work. The little steamer “Silver Spring,” 
with an experienced captain, takes charge of this part of 
the ceremony. At Enterprise we succeeded in getting a 
few oranges. The crop had all been picked and sold, and 
oranges were not so plentiful in Florida asin New York. 
Although we saw none of the sweet oranges on the trees 
(March 20th to 380th), yet we were fully as much pleased 
with the sight of the wild orange. This fruit, although 
uneatable, is larger and of a more golden hue than the eat- 
able orange; the leaf is.nearly the same, but of a darkier, 
glossier green, and the flower identical. These we saw in 
profusion. A great drawback to the success of agricultu- 
ral pursuits in Florida is the latinia, or scrub palmetto, 
growing as a bush from three to five feet in height. Its 
roots extend in all directions near the surface, like great 
cables, three inches in diameter, and form an impervious 
net-work, through which a plow cannot be forced. 
Leaving Enterprise at one A. M.. we again had a cold and 
rainy day. Wise through experience, we did not waste 
our time watching for alligators that would not come out, 
so made ourselves happy iu the cabin, At Green Cove our 
party broke up, all who could remaining at that lovely spot, 
and the rest of us parting here and there, as our roads 
homeward diverged. PiIsEco. 
