diff options
50 files changed, 17 insertions, 16366 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa15d2a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66052 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66052) diff --git a/old/66052-0.txt b/old/66052-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 79d9f69..0000000 --- a/old/66052-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8061 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to -Key West and from November to April inclusive, by Winthrop Packard - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to Key West and from - November to April inclusive - -Author: Winthrop Packard - -Release Date: August 12, 2021 [eBook #66052] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Steve Mattern, Chuck greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLORIDA TRAILS AS SEEN FROM -JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL INCLUSIVE *** - - - - - FLORIDA TRAILS - -[Illustration: “The road down Indian River winds always southward toward - the sun” - - [_Page 208_]] - - - - - FLORIDA TRAILS - - AS SEEN FROM JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST - AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL - INCLUSIVE - - - BY - - WINTHROP PACKARD - - _Author of “Wild Pastures,” “Wood Wanderings,” etc._ - - - ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY - THE AUTHOR AND OTHERS - - - [Illustration] - - - BOSTON - SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - _Copyright, 1910_ - BY SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - Entered at Stationers’ Hall - - - THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. - - - - - TO MY MOTHER - -The author wishes to express his thanks to the editors of the “Boston -Evening Transcript” for permission to reprint in this volume matter -originally contributed to the columns of that paper; to Mr. H. E. Hill -of Fort Pierce, Florida, and to Mr. J. D. Rahner of St. Augustine, -Florida, for permission to use certain photographs which so ably -supplement his own; and to very many Florida people, through whose -unfailing hospitality and friendly guidance he was able to see and know -many things which otherwise he would have been unable to find or -understand. This spirit of courtly hospitality and neighborly good will -seems to be as unfailing as the Florida sunshine, and is characteristic -alike of the native and the adopted citizen. It adds one more delight to -the many to be found in this beautiful region. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I GOING SOUTH WITH THE WARBLERS 1 - - II CERTAIN SOUTHERN BUTTERFLIES 13 - - III ALONG THE RIVER MARGIN 26 - - IV BIRDS OF A MORNING 38 - - V ’TWIXT ORANGE GROVE AND SWAMP 49 - - VI JASMINE AND CHEROKEE ROSES 61 - - VII A FROSTY MORNING IN FLORIDA 75 - - VIII CHRISTMAS AT ST. AUGUSTINE 86 - - IX IN A FLORIDA FREEZE 96 - - X DOWN THE INDIAN RIVER 107 - - XI SPRING IN THE SAVANNAS 118 - - XII SEVEN THOUSAND PELICANS 129 - - XIII JUST FISHING 140 - - XIV PALMETTOS OF THE ST. LUCIE 152 - - XV INTRUDING ON WARD’S HERONS 163 - - XVI ONE ROAD TO PALM BEACH 175 - - XVII MOONLIGHT AND MARCH MORNINGS 186 - -XVIII IN GRAPEFRUIT GROVES 197 - - XIX BUTTERFLIES OF THE INDIAN RIVER 208 - - XX ALLIGATORS AND WILD TURKEYS 220 - - XXI EASTER TIME AT PALM BEACH 231 - - XXII INTO THE MIRACULOUS SEA 243 - -XXIII DOWN THE ST. JOHNS 253 - - XXIV HOLLY BLOSSOM TIME 264 - - XXV IN A TURPENTINE CAMP 276 - -INDEX 287 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -“The road down Indian River winds always southward -toward the sun” _Frontispiece_ - -“They line the paths on either side with the gray columns of -their trunks” _Titlepage_ - - PAGE - -“Profuse draperies of moss pendant from each branch and -twig” 10 - -“To march along this water is to promenade a river side and -a sea beach in one” 30 - -“Lesser scaup ducks are very tame in Florida waters all -winter” 34 - -“In the grateful shadow of an orange tree facing sunward in -the grove” 50 - -“Under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the ancient -cypress trees” 58 - -“A wilderness where deer and bear still linger” 78 - -“Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone” 84 - -Court of “The Alcazar” at St. Augustine 88 - -Cathedral Place, St. Augustine 92 - -“The fort that waits in crumbling beauty the obliterating -hand of the coming centuries” 94 - -“The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana trees -a light brown” 102 - -The banana tree in bloom 106 - -“The southeast trade-winds here pass a long line of the -islands which bar off the Indian River from the ocean” 108 - -“This is a country of pineapple plantations” 114 - -“Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east -of Lake Okeechobee” 118 - -“All must know when spring comes, whether in the Everglades -or the New England pastures” 124 - -“The others began nest building and placed some fifteen -hundred nests on the three-acre island” 134 - -A little group of half-grown young pelicans on the edge of -Pelican Island 138 - -“Up with the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling -silvery bodies in the dark water” 144 - -“A manatee, rare indeed nowadays” 148 - -“Sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower often as high -as the pines” 154 - -“As quick night glooms the river the passing sun caresses -the palmettos last” 162 - -“A superb dignity of pose, statues of frozen alertness” 164 - -A little blue heron and her nest, the commonest Florida -heron 168 - -A Seminole village deep in the flat woods of Southern -Florida 178 - -The gray of dawn on the Indian River 192 - -“The tree is lavish to its friends and will produce fruit -almost beyond belief” 198 - -“Thirty miles across the barrens these have come, from -groves out at Fort Drum” 200 - -“A rubber tree twined its roots about a palmetto till it crushed -the trunk to a debris of rotten wood” 210 - -“The river is screened from your view by dense growth of -palmettos” 212 - -“My first glimpse came at one of these places” 222 - -“The heat and steam of the sub-tropical swamp hatches the -eggs without further trouble” 224 - -“There, too, is the mingling of a score of wee, wild scents -from the jungle” 232 - -The “traveler’s tree” in a Palm Beach garden 234 - -“It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of picturesque -adventure on the place” 238 - -Into the miraculous sea 244 - -“By and by the road leaves the embankment and winds totteringly -out on piling” 248 - -“As one holds his breath in suspense the road comes to a -stop at the western tip of Knight’s Key” 250 - -Gathering turtle’s eggs on a Florida beach 252 - - - - - FLORIDA TRAILS - - - - -CHAPTER I - -GOING SOUTH WITH THE WARBLERS - - -When I left New York, I thought that I had said good-by to the smaller -migrating birds for three days. My steamer’s keel was to furrow nearly a -thousand miles of rough sea before it landed me in Florida, where among -live-oak and palmetto, bamboo and sugar cane, I might hope to meet tiny -friends that I had loved and lost a while. I rather expected flocks of -migrating sea birds, and in this I was disappointed. The usual gulls -whirled and cackled in our wake, kittiwakes and herring gulls, brown -backs and black backs, a horde that thinned with each steamer we met, -taking return tickets to port, seemingly loath to leave the fascinating -region of Coney Island. - -The hundreds had dwindled to almost a lone specimen before, just off -Charleston, the pelicans came out to look us over. Not a duck did I see -till the pelicans had approved us. Then we began to drive out scattered -flocks. Perhaps the northwester that had chased us all the way had -something to do with it. For it was almost a blizzard out of New York. -Up in Central Park the English sparrow, like Keats’s St. Agnes’ Eve owl, -for all his feathers was a-cold. The little children of the rich, -parading the walks with bare knees, and nurse maids, were blue with the -chill and might well envy the little children of the poor for whom the -charitable provide stockings. Even out at sea the wind and cold seemed -to chill the water till it was made of blue shivers and gooseflesh -combers. - -Yet I had reckoned without my host, so far as the little migrants are -concerned, for, waking the next morning some two hundred miles or more -farther south and far out of sight of any land, the first sound that I -heard was the tchip of a myrtle warbler. Verily, thought I, this is some -trick of the vibrating rigging, quivering under the thrust of the screw. -Then I looked up and saw the bird himself, sitting on the rail, whence -he flew serenely to a passenger’s hat. Then I was quite convinced that -it was high time that I had a change, found fresh woods and pastures -new. Too steady a pursuit of a subject is apt to end in hallucination, -as many a latter day theosophist ought to be able to testify. - -However, this specimen of _Dendroica coronata_ was not materialized -through concentrated thought, but was a real myrtle warbler, and there -were a dozen, more or less, hopping about the ship. During the next -thirty-six hours the number of bird passengers carried, summed up, -would, I am sure, far exceed the paying passenger list. We identified -pine warblers, robins, song sparrows, chipping sparrows, fox sparrows, -Wilson’s warblers, juncos, golden-crowned kinglets, ruby-crowned -kinglets, bay-winged buntings and a white-bellied swallow. - -With a few exceptions these seemed to be young birds, rather -storm-buffeted and weary. Whether they lighted on the ship as a -convenient resting-place in the regular course of their migration, or -whether they had been blown off to sea by the strong westerly wind, it -is impossible to say. I think the former. The wind was blustering but by -no means a gale, and they could easily fly against it. They seemed most -numerous at daybreak, and I think they were attracted by the ship’s -lights during the night, and stopped on it to feed and rest at morning, -as they do on land. Possibly, also, the younger generation of birds is -finding that it is a good deal easier to go South by steam power than it -is to get there by main strength. Why not? In a century or so chimney -swallows have learned to build in chimneys rather than in caves and -hollow trees. Bluebirds, martins and white-bellied swallows have -learned the uses of bird boxes. Why shouldn’t they adopt steamships? The -wireless operator who pulls all sorts of information out of the -circumambient atmosphere tells me that they have; that at this season of -the year the ships are apt to swarm with tiny songsters, and the young -lady from up the State who sits at the piano in the social hall and -coquettishly sings about “the saucy little bird on Nellie’s hat,” is now -able to do it with illustrations. - -This lighting of the myrtle warbler on the passenger’s hat is not -persiflage, either. Several times it happened. Along in the afternoon a -negro, sitting in a sunny corner of the steerage deck, held nevertheless -the very center of the stage for several minutes with a junco perched on -the crown of a well-brushed black soft hat that might have been as old -as he was. It made a rather pretty picture and the old man’s eyes shone -with delight long after the junco had flown. “Ya-as,” he drawled to his -companions after the bird had gone, “dem birds, dey al’ays does laike -dat hat. One day down in Souf Ca’lina ah was sitting in de field a long -time an’ one of dem cuckoo birds des came along and laid an aig in dat -hat. Yessir, it done did.” This may be true. I tell it as I heard it. - -All these free passengers seemed far tamer on shipboard than on shore, -and manifested it in other ways than lighting on people’s hats. They -hopped chirping about the decks almost under foot, to the delight of the -ship’s cat, which caught one and escaped the wrath to come by dodging to -some hole below decks with it. They even invaded the dining-room and -picked up crumbs from the carpet, and it was no uncommon thing for one -to flutter from under foot as passengers came along the corridors. Now -and then one would leave his comfortable perch, flit in a wide circle -about the ship, and come back as if loath to leave so firm a foundation -and such good fellowship. I missed the white-bellied swallow first. -Surely his wings should take him to land without serious effort. One by -one the others departed, many remaining until the ship was off the -Hatteras Shoals and the land not more than a dozen miles away. - -Even then it seemed as if the little warblers and tiny kinglets were -taking long chances with the stiff wind and the foam-crested billows. In -starting off they flitted down toward these as if they intended to light -on them, swerving upward from the very imminent crest of many a wave and -dipping into the long hollows again in flight that matched the -undulations of the sea. I hope they all reached land. Probably in -migrating time the sea takes toll of all flocks and thus helps nature in -her ruthless weeding out of the weaklings. There were no small migrants -remaining by the time the pelicans came out to inspect ship. - -I have great respect for the pelican, a respect which increases each -time I see him, he is such a venerable gaffer of a bird. Even in the -confines of his hen-fenced enclosure at the ostrich farm in -Jacksonville, he does not lose this aspect of dignity. The group sitting -and flitting about their tiny tank always reminds me of the delineations -of the Hebrew prophets in the mural decorations of the Boston Public -Library. They (the pelicans) have a faintly straw-colored top to the -head which reminds one of a bald and massive dome of thought, and they -draw their beaks back against their necks till they are for all the -world like long beards. Then there is an intellectual solemnity about -them that I am sure their character does not belie. Even when they play -at leap-frog, clumsily flopping one over another in the pool, they do it -in a way that convinces you that they have it all reasoned out and are -not entering into it lightly or without due consideration. They are a -clean bird in captivity and are so quaintly awkward in their movements -that one loves them at sight. - -But the pelicans are best seen as they fly in an orderly line from -somewhere shoreward, out to the ship inspection. Several flocks of ten -or a dozen came alternately flapping and sailing, their wings all -beating time with those of the leader as if in a careful drill movement. -They sailed over the ship and then settled upon the water, still in an -orderly row, and I thought I saw each flock confer after sitting and wag -bald heads and long beards as if in approval. As we steamed up the St. -Johns we left them there, for the pelican fishes only at sea and -disdains the brackish water of the river which flows miles wide from the -interior of Florida. - -As a first glimpse of Florida bird life they are satisfying and of -unusual interest. I recommend them to any who may sail in my wake. - -The cormorants came next. The viking bird of which Longfellow jingled, - - “Then as with wings aslant, - Sails the fierce cormorant, - Seeking some rocky haunt, - With his prey laden,” - -may have been all that the poet’s fancy painted him, but the Florida -cormorant certainly does not fill up to the measure of the poem. Fierce -he may be to little fishes, but to the eye of the passer up the river -his chief characteristic is purely _dolce far niente_. Hardly a river -buoy or a sand-bar marker post but has a cormorant, looking as much like -a black carving at the top of a totem pole as anything else. Usually he -is as motionless. He stretches his slim, snake-like neck as the boat -goes by, sometimes even moves it uneasily, but his body keeps up the -statuesque pose to perfection. No doubt the cormorant dives and swims, -flies and fishes, but so far I have found him only as the topmost -carving on the buoys and marker posts. This Florida variety is slightly -smaller and otherwise different from the birds of the Northern coast. -Chapman describes him as a shy bird. A cursory glance would seem to -indicate that the only thing he is shy of is energy. - -The first Florida land bird that I saw was the buzzard. If the cormorant -is the statue of repose, the buzzard is the poet of motion. I suspect -that this bird was the original mental scientist. He moves by -thought-power alone. I am always reminded, in watching his progress, of -the ancient story of the Chinaman watching his first electric car. The -buzzard certainly has no visible “pushee” or any observable “pullee.” -But how silently and beautifully he goes. Never a flap of the broad -black wings and never a quiver of the widespread primary tips. He just -thinks himself along, against the wind or with it, up or down. His broad -wings are like the prayer rug of the Arabian tale. He adjusts himself -upon them, stretches forth his bald red neck and just wishes himself in -some place, near or far, and forthwith he sails swiftly to it. In what -as yet unexplained principle of progress he finds his power no -present-day aeroplanist can say. When he finds out, the flying man of -the future may do away with the motor which so frequently fails to mote -and the propellers which break in mid-air and spill the passenger. Go to -the buzzard, thou Bleriot; consider his ways and be wise. - -The little river steamer that takes you up the St. Johns from -Jacksonville to Orange Park soon leaves the uproar of the city, the -skyscrapers and drawbridges, tugs, lighters, and coastwise steamships -behind, and puffs onward into placid reaches that to the eye have -changed little since the days of De Soto. If plantations and villages -exist ashore there is but little indication of them. The banks are lined -with verdure, green and gray,--green with the foliage of century-old -live-oaks and tall, long-leaved pines, gray with exquisite festoons and -dangling draperies of the moss that decorates every tree and fairly -smothers some of them. There is a crinkly grace, an elderly virility -about it that is most engaging. It takes but little effort of the -imagination to see the red cheeks and twinkling eyes of a myriad -disciples of Santa Claus peering through it ready to bring gifts to all -good children. I have yet to see with what costume they simulate the -good saint in this country. If they do not make his beard of this softly -beautiful, crinkly, fatherly gray moss I shall feel that they miss an -excellent opportunity. Here and there through the moss and among the -big, rough tree-trunks a tiny road winds down through the -needle-carpeted sand and leads to a slender long pier, built far out -over the shallow reaches of the river to a landing for the river boats. -The stream is miles wide in its lower course, but only in its channel is -it deep. Shallows stretch far from either bank and fleets of water -hyacinths voyaging seaward with the current strand sometimes far from -shore. The fifteen-mile trip is thus like one into a sub-tropical -wilderness untouched by the chill of approaching winter, little marred -by the hand of man. The miracles of gorgeous autumn coloring which we -left behind in the Massachusetts woods find no echo here. Now and then a -sumac leaf shows dull crimson or the wild grape takes on a somber -yellow, yet these tiny dots of color are no more to be noticed in a -general survey of the forest than the bright hues of the butterflies -that swarm at midday in the bright sun and a temperature of eighty in -the shade. - -It is a new land, yet it has beauties that are all its own. The full -moon was rising over the eastern shore of the river as I climbed its -west bank, lighting up the broad central street of the little town with -golden radiance. Here for a moment with the soft sand underfoot and the -stately live-oaks arching overhead I might have thought - -[Illustration: “Profuse draperies of moss pendant from each branch and -twig”] - -myself in a Cape Cod village. The neat white fences were the same, the -sand was the same with sparse grass growing from sidewalk to wheel -tracks, and the live-oaks that arched till their limb tips touched and -made play of soft shadows and softer light underfoot might well have -been the Massachusetts elms. Only the profuse draperies of the moss -pendant from every branch and twig were new, informing the place with a -golden glamour of grace and mystery. - -“Isn’t it wonderful!” exclaimed the lady from Boston. - -“Ye-es,” replied the lady from Philadelphia, doubtfully, “I think it’s -nice; all but that ragged moss all over everything. It reminds me of -untidy housekeeping.” Thus points of view differ. - -It was perfectly conventional and exactly proper that the first bird I -heard singing here the next morning should be the mocking bird. It is -little wonder either, for these beautiful songsters infest the place, as -numerous and familiar as robins on a Northern lawn. I have an idea that -the mocking bird is just a catbird gone to heaven. He seems a little -slenderer and more graceful. His tail is a bit longer and the catbird’s -earthly color of slate pencil has become a paler, lovelier gray in which -the white of celestial robes is fast growing. Already it has touched his -wing bars, and his tail feathers, and all his under parts. So a bit of -celestial beauty has been added to his song, which is rounder and more -golden, yet holds much of the catbird’s phrasing still. People may say -what they will about the catbird at home. With all his faults I love him -still, and it pleases me to fancy that he becomes a mocking bird as he -becomes good and noble. - -After the mocking bird’s whistle came a second melodious note, the -tinkle of passing cow-bells, recalling to mind once more quiet -elm-shaded New England streets and rock-walled pasture lanes. Yet in -this tinkle was a puzzling note as the cattle passed and the sound faded -into the distance, a bubbling change of tone, a liquid drowning -altogether new and delightful. I followed its siren call to find myself -led, as by the sirens of old, to water. Down the streets of a morning -wander the scrub cows of the place, munching live-oak acorns as they -pass to their grazing grounds, the shallow waters of the St. Johns. Into -this they wade fearlessly, often neck deep and a quarter-mile from the -shore, sinking their heads to the bottom to feed on the tender herbage -of aquatic plants. The tinkle of the cow-bells catches its bubbling note -and its drowning fall in its continual submergence and resurgence. It is -as characteristic of a St. Johns River town as the melody of the mocker, -different, but perhaps equally delightful in its musical quaintness. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -CERTAIN SOUTHERN BUTTERFLIES - - -I had not expected to find a zebra so far north, yet he galloped by the -door one torrid day showing his black and yellow stripes most -tantalizingly. He was so near that the brilliant red dots which are a -part of his color scheme showed plainly and added to his beauty. I have -said galloped; I might better perhaps have written loped in describing -his flight, for the zebra of this story is not a quadruped, but a -butterfly. It was I who did the galloping, net in hand, finding his easy -lope hard to rival in speed. Soon, however, he fluttered to a live-oak -branch and lighted while I put the net over him, or thought I did. I -hauled him in with careful glee only to find a yellow oak leaf as my -prize and the butterfly nowhere to be seen. Down here many people call -the _Heliconius charitonus_ “the convict.” I had thought this because of -his stripes. I begin to think it is because of his ability to escape -imprisonment. - -The zebra came as a sort of climax to two or three days of butterfly -hunting extraordinary. The first came on my first full day at Orange -Park. There are years when August lasts well into November in northern -Florida, and this is one. For two months, up to and including the tenth -of November, there has been no rain, and in cloudless skies the fervent -sun has set the mercury in the thermometer toying with the eighty mark. -So it was on this first day of mine. The wind blew gently from the -south, and by nine o’clock countless swarms of butterflies were flying -against it, a vast migration in progress toward the tip of the -peninsula. - -The principal street of the town runs east and west from the boat -landing to the railroad station. It is laid out so wide that the wagon -tracks rather get lost in it and wander uncertainly from side to side, -so wide that it takes three rows of stately, moss-bearded oaks to shade -it, two between the broad sidewalks and the street, a third down the -middle. There is room for a trolley line each side of this central row -and plenty of space for a city’s wagon traffic between that and the -sidewalk. The trolley line is not here, however. Only an occasional lazy -horse scuffs through the sand. Somebody planned Orange Park for a -metropolis, and it may be that yet, but the time has been long in -coming. - -But if human traffic was scarce in this street the butterfly highway -which led across it anywhere east or west was filled with eager motion. -Black, yellow, red, silver, and orange and gold little and big, they -were in the air all the time. - -The only effort necessary to collect specimens in variety was that of -standing, net in hand, in any spot and taking what came within reach. -Long-tailed skippers shot like buzzing black bullets out of the vivid -sunshine to northward, under the flickering shadow of the live-oaks, and -over the paling and through the vivid sunshine to southward again. The -skipper is really dark brown, lighted with a few yellow spots, his body -prettily furred with green, but he looks black on the wing. He is only a -little fellow, spreading little more than an inch and a half from tip to -tip, the long tails of his after-wings being his most conspicuous mark, -but he is as hot-footed in his motions as a Northern white-faced hornet. - -Why a butterfly whose main colors are dark brown and green evolves from -the red-headed yellow worm that feeds upon wistaria, pea vines and -various other plants of the pulse family is not for me to say. I think -but little of the worm, but I have a great admiration for the skipper. -His flight is vivid, if his coloring is not, and he is as full of energy -and enthusiasm as a newly arrived Northern real-estate agent. I shall -always feel a special friendship for _Eudamus proteus_. He was my first -Florida capture. In the cool of dawn I found one sitting on the pillow -of my bed that very first morning and I took him on the spot. It is a -good butterfly country where new specimens come to you while you sleep. - -To-day the sky is overcast, there is a hint of rain in the air and the -temperature is low enough to suggest a sweater. Not a butterfly is in -sight. All are under shelter, waiting for the sun and the warmth again. - -Certainly millions of them must have passed through Orange Park on this -day of which I write. There was not a moment from nine until four that I -could not count a score crossing the main street. I wandered from the -river bank to the railroad station, a matter of a mile, and always it -was the same. In the length and breadth of the town a thousand a minute -must have moved on across that street, all day long. There were eddies -and swirls in the current, but during the day I saw only one butterfly -going against it. That was a skipper, and by his rate of movement I -fancy he had forgotten something and was just hurrying back after it. - -One of the eddies in this current was over a sweet potato field just -south of the road. The ancient ditty about the grasshopper sitting on -the sweet potato vine is true enough these days. The long drought has -bred him in numbers, but that day the golden yellow butterflies rather -crowded him off. The Florida sweet potato is delicious. There is a nice -golden yellow taste to its well-cooked pulp that crosses the word -“enough” out of a Northerner’s gastronomic dictionary. I remember as a -boy studying history unwillingly, yet reading with pleasure of the part -taken by the Southern troops under Marion, “the swamp fox,” in defying -the British under Tarleton and thus helping win the war of the -Revolution. The legend ran that an embassy of British officers came to -Marion’s camp to discuss certain matters with them and found them making -a meal of sweet potatoes only. Whereupon the embassy went back and told -Tarleton that he could never conquer men who could fight so well on so -meager a diet. At the time I sympathized with Marion and his men. Now, -having tasted the Southern sweet potato in its native wilds, I -sympathize with the British who did not know how well fed their enemies -were. - -The vine is not so delicious as all this, but it is pretty in its way, -being much like our Northern morning glory. In fact, they are both -ipomeas, and the purple, tubular blossoms are almost identical. The -Northern morning glory should take shame to itself that it does not grow -a root like that of its Southern sister-in-law. This sweet potato field -was dotted with purple blossoms that morning, and above them whirled -swarms of what I think is really the loveliest butterfly of the South, -the cloudless sulphur. The little sulphur with the black-bordered wings -is common enough at the North, as it is down here, and a very pretty -butterfly it is, too, but it pales into insignificance beside this great -lemon-yellow fellow with wing expanse of two and a half inches, the -whole upper side one rich clear color that flashes in the sun. The under -side is almost as rich, having but one or two insignificant eye spots to -vary it, and the swarms of these great golden creatures came down on the -purple blossoms like a scurrying snow-storm whose great flakes were -embodied sunshine. - -The caterpillar which is the grub form of this beautiful creature is -yellow, too--I cannot think of _Catopsilia eubule_ as being born of a -grub of any other color--and feeds on the leaves of the wild senna, -whose blossoms are also yellow. Thus, for once, anyway, we have a -sequence of color culminating in the superlative. The cloudless sulphur -is very fond of all flowers, and is said to be especially partial to -orange blossoms. I can think of nothing more beautiful than the glossy -green leaves of this delightful tree, interspersed with the waxy white -fragrant blooms, the whole glorified with the hovering wings of this -great golden yellow butterfly. - -The cloudless sulphurs did not have the sweet potato patch all to -themselves, though they swirled there most conspicuously. I picked out -of it, as I watched, occasional flecks of deep red which I took at first -for monarchs, and so many of them were. The monarch is a common -butterfly in the North, one of our most conspicuous varieties from early -summer until the low swung sun beckons them South, whither they migrate -in accumulating swarms from September until frost. In Massachusetts -these migrations never contain enough members to make them conspicuous. -Farther south the numbers increase until from New Jersey south we hear -almost yearly accounts of the swarms. I took one of these monarchs as he -sailed by me across the Orange Park boulevard. He was just _Anosia -plexippus_, but such a splendid fellow! Never before had I seen a -butterfly of this species quite so large or so richly colored. There was -a velvety quality about all his markings and a sumptuousness of outline -and development that made him far superior to the Northern monarchs -which I have examined closely. Other specimens have confirmed this -impression, and I begin to think that the Southern-born _Anosia -plexippus_, developing under stronger sun and from a chrysalis -un-chilled by frost, excels in beauty his Northern brother. I wonder if -other butterfly hunters can confirm or disprove this. - -Along with the monarch came now and then the viceroy. This too is a -common enough Northern butterfly, so much like the monarch, though of -another genus, that in flight neither I nor the insect-eating birds are -likely to tell the two apart. The monarch is beautiful but not tasty, -and the insect-eaters let him fly by on this account. Something about -him does not agree with them. On the other hand, _Basilarchia disippus_, -the viceroy, is delectable from the flycatcher’s point of taste. But he -escapes because he resembles the monarch. Hence many scientists say that -the viceroy “imitates” the monarch for protection. In this I take it -that they mean that he escapes because he resembles, not that he -consciously assumes the colors of, the other insect. The survival of the -fittest works inexorably, but without the consciousness of the -individual. At any rate, the viceroy resembles the monarch very closely, -though as a rule he is not so large. - -The magnificence of the Florida monarch I find somewhat reflected in his -viceroy, nevertheless, for the Florida viceroys seem to me larger and -more richly colored than those of New England. This difference has led -one authority on Southern butterflies to adopt a new name for this -dissembler, calling the local _Basilarchia disippus_, _Basilarchia -floridensis_. Then another came along and called him _Basilarchia eros_. -But why? The insect is in all respects the same as the disippus except -that he is a wee bit bigger and richer in coloration. But so, I believe, -is the monarch, down here. It seems to me like classifying Bill Jones as -of a different family from his brother Sam Jones, just because Bill has -browner whiskers and weighs forty pounds more. - -But while I captured and examined monarchs and viceroys and released -them with vain speculations as to what other people thought of them and -why, _Dione vanillae_ came along, and away went thoughts of potentates -and of hair-splitting classifiers. She soared low as if to alight at my -feet, and I saw the rich orange yellow of the upper sides of her -aristocratic wings. She hovered and danced up by my eyes, and she seemed -robed in shimmering silver, so profusely are the metallic moons -scattered over her under wings, and through it all she seemed to blush a -vivid red. - -This butterfly I had never seen, and though for two or three days she -and her bewitching sisters seemed to swarm I have not yet disentangled -my soul from her fascinations. No one of the dancing sisterhood passes -me but I pursue with the net for the joy of looking closely at so -beautiful a creature, though I handle with tenderness and release after -gloating. The lovely, fulvous orange which marks the fritillaries seems -in Dione to be just a shade richer, but toward the bases of the wings -it blushes into a rich wine red, a pellucid crimson, while beneath, the -after-wings are as studded with glittering silver spots as a Nautch girl -with silver bangles. I do not wonder that Dione soars demurely for only -a moment, then seems to have to dance in pure abandonment of joy in her -own dainty, beautiful completeness. I have said the cloudless sulphur is -the loveliest of Southern butterflies, and in spite of temptation I -cling to the statement, but _Dione vanillae_ is the most bewitching. - -Of the other varieties of demure, delightful, sedate, serene, -fascinating or frivolous butterflies that passed within reach of my net -as I simply stood and watched them that most wonderful day I might name -a dozen. The numbers, of all varieties, were countless, and all were -moving south. I do not think it a conscious migration. Yet it has all -the effect of that. A butterfly, like a migrating bird, flies best -against a gentle wind. It is time now for the first of the wild geese to -be on their way down from the Arctic, flying and feeding across the -Northern States. You will find them feeding or resting when the wind is -out of the north. When it blows in the higher atmosphere from the south -the long harrows breast it with ease, high up, and seem to make their -way as rapidly and as far as possible while it lasts. - -On days when the wind blows from the north down here there is a bit of -the northern chill in the air. No more than enough to give a needed -stimulus to a Northern man, to make him wish to tramp far and see all -things, but to the Southern sun-born butterfly this chill spells no -thoroughfare. All traffic is suspended on such days, and though in sunny -sheltered corners you may find many or all varieties, only such vigorous -fellows as the monarchs fly high or far. In other words, on sunny days -with a southern wind there is a steady southward migration of all -strong-winged butterflies, a movement that sends literally thousands -upon thousands in the course of a day across miles of country. This is -not conscious or purposeful migration as is the movement of the birds at -this time of year, but the aggregate result is much the same. Nor is the -rate of passage of individuals at all slow. I find when I sweep at one -of these southbound fellows with the net and then, missing him, attempt -to follow his flight, I migrate southward at a jog trot that would mean -five or six miles an hour. The butterflies that started out earliest on -that sunny November morning were a dozen miles nearer the head-waters of -the St. Johns when the chill of late afternoon overtook them. - -I have named the, to me, loveliest and most fascinating of these -November migrants. So far I have found two others most interesting. One -of these is _Anosia berenice_, which, according to my reading of -butterfly authorities, has no business here at all. Berenice, surnamed -the queen, is of the same genus as the monarch, the only other species -of the genus found in the United States. The color is a livid brown, not -differing much from that of the monarch to the casual glance. The white -spots on the wings are similarly placed but the black veining is absent -on the upper sides. - -I had supposed the queen was found only in the southwest, in Arizona and -New Mexico, and was greatly delighted to find many specimens floating -about, feeding on the same blossoms as the monarch, and in many ways -seeming worthy to be a consort. Like _Anosia plexippus Anosia berenice_ -has some quality which makes insect-eating birds shun it. In the -southwest _Basilarchia hulsti_ mimics the queen as the viceroy mimics -the monarch. The two mimics are quite similar in appearance, and I shall -look with care at each viceroy which passes in hopes of finding him the -imitator of the queen. - -The other most interesting variety is the zebra. In shape this insect -differs from all the other butterflies found here, or indeed in the -eastern United States. His wings are long and narrow, giving him -somewhat the appearance of a gaudily painted dragon fly. But his flight -is serene and seemingly slow. It was two days after his disappearance -before I saw him again, and then I did not recognize him. The richly -contrasting black and gold of his upper side I did not then see, for he -floated above me. I only knew that here was a peculiarly shaped brown -fellow going easily by. This time he was easily captured. Not till I had -him in the net did I see his upper side and recognize my escaped -convict. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -ALONG THE RIVER MARGIN - - -One of the sweetest of Southern trees at this time of the year is the -loquat, which is not by right of birth a Southern tree at all, being -transplanted from Japan. However the loquats have been here long enough -to be naturalized and seem Southern with that extra fillip of fervor -which marks, often, the adopted citizen. Their odor was the first to -greet me on landing at the long dock at Orange Park, floating on the -amorous air with sure suggestion of paradise just beyond. At the time I -thought it just the “spicy tropic smell” that always comes off shore to -greet one in low latitudes, whether on the road to Mandalay or Trinidad -or Honolulu. Usually it is born of Southern pines whose resinous -distillation bears on its rough shoulders breath of jasmine, tuberose or -such other climber or bulb bearer as happens to be in bloom. - -Off shore in the West Indies the froth of the brine seems to play ball -with these odors, tossing them on the trade winds leagues to leeward, -till one wonders if Columbus might not have hunted the new world by -scent. Later in the year, say February or March, this perfume might well -be compounded of orange blossoms, but just now, when the oranges, -hereabouts at least, are waiting for the winter frosts to be over before -they bloom, it is the loquat trees which take up the burden of scent. -The loquat is a handsome tree, suggesting in its shape and dark green -leaves the horse-chestnut. The blooms are in corymbs, and their -cotton-downy, yellowish-white flowers are not so very different to the -casual glance from those of the buckeye. With one of those fairy-like -surprises that the South constantly gives you the tree however does not -produce horse-chestnuts, but an edible, yellow, plum-like fruit, whence -its other, common name of Japanese plum. - -All night the loquat blooms send their rich perfume questing off shore -along the banks of the St. Johns, and the big yellow stars swing so low -that it is hard to tell which is the heavenly illumination and which the -trawl marks of the fishermen, lanterns hung from poles where the trawls -lie in wait for channel cats. In the gray of sudden dawn you find these -fishermen rowing home again, black silhouettes against a black river, -and I often wonder if the scent of the loquats, slipping riverward in -the lee of the long dock does not unconsciously guide them, they find -port so surely without beacon. - -It is very sudden, this gray of dawn. It is as if some one turned a -switch, paused for a moment only to see that the first turn had taken -effect, then turned another which released the spring beneath the sun, -after which it is all over. Daybreak I am convinced is a word coined -between the tropics. No man born north of latitude forty would speak of -day as breaking. There the dawn comes as leisurely as a matinée girl to -breakfast; here it pops like popcorn. With the coming of day on this -bank of the St. Johns the pungent odor of wood smoke cuts off the scent -of the November blooming loquats. The smoke of a Southern pine fire is -an aroma decorated with perfume. To me the smell of wood smoke of any -kind is always delightful. It sniffs of campfires and the open road, of -blankets beneath boughs and the long peace of the stars. The fire whence -it comes may be guiltless of any outdoor hearth. It may be -half-smothered among brick chimneys, built to cook porridge for life -prisoners in a city jail, for all I know, but the smoke is free. It was -born of the woods, where it gathered all spices to its bosom, and though -the log crumbles to ashes in durance, the smoke is the spirit of freedom -and can mean nothing else to him who has once smelled it in the wild. If -I am ever a life prisoner, I hope they will not let me get scent of -wood smoke. If they do, on that day I shall break jail or die in the -attempt. - -The wood burned here for breakfast fires is the Southern pitch pine, -whose smoke seems to carry in its free pungency a finer spiciness than -comes with the smoke of other woods. One born to it ought to be sure he -is home again by the first whiff. It differs from that of white pine, -fir or spruce, this long-leaf pine smoke, and I am sure that if you -brought me magically from the Adirondacks or the Aroostook in my sleep -and landed me in the barrens I should know my location, however dark the -night, the very moment the wind blew the campfire smoke my way. - -Every Southern backyard seems to hold the big, black, three-legged iron -pot for boiling clothes, and I know not what other incantatory purposes. -Beneath this, too, they burn an open fire of pitch wood, so often I may -walk all day long with this subtle essence of freedom in my nostrils, a -tonic to neutralize the languor that comes down river with the breeze -out of the tropic heart of the peninsula. I walked south to meet this -breeze this morning, with the morning sun on my left shoulder, the blue -sea of the broad river stretching five or six miles beneath it to the -haze of the distant bank. On my right was the ten-foot sand bluff of the -bank and I waded with the aquatic cows, now knee-deep in shallows on a -sandy bottom, now following their paths through margins of close-cropped -water hyacinths, over mangrove roots and through the mud of marsh edges, -and again along a dry bank of clean white sand. To know a river takes -many expeditions, and one of these should surely be afoot along its -shallows. - -The brackish tides that swirl up from the sea to the deep water off the -Jacksonville wharves speed with little loss of vigor on, many broad -miles into the heart of Florida. To march along this water is to -promenade a river side and a sea beach in one. Splashing through the -shallows I find the water as full of fish life as the woods are of -birds, or the air of butterflies. You can look nowhere without seeing -one, usually all forms in numbers. The mullet leap sometimes six feet in -the air from the river surface, gleaming silver in the sun. A blue crab -scuttles, left side foremost, from the margin toward deep water, his -blue claws conspicuous and marking the species, which is Southern in its -habitat though found in numbers as far north as the Jersey coast. This -crab is very plentiful here, the neighbors catching him with ease by the -simple expedient of tying a piece of ancient meat to a string which they -drop from the wharf and occasionally draw up. The crab will be found -feeding on and so - -[Illustration: “To march along this water is to promenade a river side -and a sea beach in one”] - -gripping the meat with those blue claws that he may be dropped on the -dock or in a pail by shaking him off. - -By the river at night may be seen a fine example of the continuance of a -trade not taught in schools or in books, but handed down from father to -son for countless generations. The fishing for channel cats in the St. -Johns is a good business. The fish run from a few pounds in weight up to -thirty or thirty-five. They sell in the rough for two and a half cents a -pound. Nobody about here will eat cats and they are shipped north, I -suspect to become boneless cod. But the cat fishing is not what I mean, -it is the shrimping. These curious, bug-like creatures infest the river, -and the negro fishermen capture them at night in primitive circular nets -which have lead weights about the circumference and are held by a rope -from the center. The fishermen cast these upon the surface by a peculiar -motion which spreads them out flat. Then they sink and are drawn up by -the central rope, looking for all the world like a dangling lace -petticoat with shrimps and small fishes entangled in the lace. The water -laps in ghostly fashion under the piers and the lantern light makes -grotesque creatures out of an elder world of the fishermen. - -Here, I suspect, is a fine survival. Were not the nets that Peter and -his brethren cast into Galilee of this fashion? Did not the fishermen -of an ancient legend who drew up the bottle which contained an afreet, -find its cork entangled in a net like one of these? The slippers of Abu -Kassim, in the Persian story, desperately thrown away and brought back -again always by most untimely rescue--were not these hauled from the -Euphrates once by a fisherman with just such a net? I believe so. But -our thought, tangled like the shrimp in the net, has traveled a long -way. - -The name of the water hyacinth is linked for all time with Florida’s -broad river. Here where the tide flows in the main stream I see but -little of it. Now and then a fleet of tiny green boats floats boldly -down as if piratically planning to take the open sea, with green -halberds pointed bravely over blunt, round bows. I fancy the salt of the -real sea is too much for these bold voyageurs, but they line the river -bank everywhere, rarely a leaf showing along the main river, so closely -are they cropped by the roaming aquatic cattle. These whet appetites of -a morning on the hyacinths as they step over the green blanket of them -that hides the sand. They breakfast far from shore on the homely -waterweed, _Anarcharis canadensis_ I take it to be, that grows so -plentifully in water a few feet deep. Then they wade in again and give -the hyacinths another crop as they go by to rest beneath the live-oaks -and chew the cud of contentment. - -This makes the hyacinths which blanket the shore but squat -agglomerations of green-air bulbs that give one little idea of the real -plant. These grow persistently, however, and now and then blossom out of -season because of this pruning, showing a wonderful blue, hyacinth-like -bloom that one might almost take for a translucent blue orchid, the -standard petal larger and deeper blue with a mark like a yellow -fleur-de-lis on it, a blossom that makes the banks of the St. Johns in -spring a blue sheen of dainty color. - -But you need to get away from the frequented banks of the river to see -the water hyacinth in full growth. There, uncropped by cattle and -unmolested, the plants crowd creeks from bank to bank with serried ranks -of leaves whose deep green gives a fine color but whose culms -effectually stop all navigation. - -I was splashing along through the shallows that border this riverbank -hyacinth blanket, headed toward a great bed of pied-billed grebes that -were resting and feeding in a shallow near the entrance to Doctor’s -Lake, when I had my first tiny adventure of the day. Right among the -hyacinths near my feet I heard a scream of pain and terror. Very human -it was, but tiny and with an elfin quality about it. I stepped to the -right and it was at my left. I stepped to the left and it was at my -right. I looked down, but it sounded twice before I located it. - -Then I saw a small green frog, one with a body an inch and a half long, -whose hind leg was caught beneath the water hyacinths. He it was that -was giving these most human-like little screeches. Almost I reached to -disentangle his foot with my finger. Then I bethought me what country I -was in and poked with the handle of a net that I had with me, instead. -This was just as well, for the poking disclosed the arrow-shaped head -and baleful eyes of a young water moccasin. A blow or two broke his hold -on the frog, that stopped his yelling forthwith and hopped eagerly away. -The snake was soon despatched. He was only nine inches long, and how he -hoped to swallow a frog so big I cannot say. Common report says he could -stretch his rubber neck four times its usual size and accomplish his -dinner. - -Sitting in a clean sandbank, and safe, no doubt, I soon got intent on my -birds. Never before had I seen so many grebes. There were easily half a -thousand of them swimming about in such close communion that they -jostled one another, all pied-bills. I saw no alien among them. Some -rocked on the wavelets, their heads down between their shoulders, -seeming half asleep. Others fed industriously. The water of the shallows -along - -[Illustration: “Lesser scaup ducks are very tame in Florida waters all -winter”] - -here is so full of small fish that they had little trouble in getting -their fill. Some seemed to succeed by merely dipping the head and -picking up what came within reach. Others swam sedately, then of a -sudden leapt into the air and curled below in a lightning-like plunge -that often brought up a big one. - -Before long I began to see that the great community was made up of -families or associates, of two to five, oftenest three, as if this -year’s father and mother kept the young still in charge. Now and then -one grebe seemed to rush to another that had just come up and receive -something from the resurgent bill, as if the mother had captured a -special titbit which was passed over to the young. Sometimes, too, the -would-be recipient was chided away with a sharp dab of the bill instead -of the reached-for refreshment. Here no doubt was a bunco child, and the -parent was too keen to be thus swindled. In that case the dab that -rebuffed the impostor was followed by a swallow that settled the matter -as far as that particular young mullet was concerned. There was, -however, always a strong community spirit. The most of the five hundred -coursed the shallows in one direction, swimming all heads one way with -something like army discipline. The leader of this company had but to -turn and swim back and the whole array turned front and made in the -opposite direction. Yet there were squads under secondary leadership, -for now and then a flock of twenty or so would rise and fly swiftly up -or down stream without drawing the others. At such times a quaint little -croaking cry was exchanged by many birds. - -I might have learned more had I not happened to look sharp at the sand -not far from my elbow. Something rather indistinct there took shape -after a little, and a troubled conscience sent me up in the air, perhaps -not so high as the top of the bayberry shrubs, but if not it was not my -fault. I certainly had a strong desire to sit on top of them. The nearer -grebes squawked and fled, but little did I care for them, for there in -the sand at my feet as I came down I saw the ghost of my little -moccasin, a stubby little nine-inch gray creature whose curious black -mottlings left him still indistinct among his surroundings. - -After all, it was but a ghost of a little gray snake, probably dead, for -he did not move. Grown bold I turned him over with the toe of my big -boot. He lay motionless. Then I gave him an extra poke and suddenly -moved away some yards, for he turned back upon his belly, raised a -threatening head and began to grow. All the cobras in India, -concentrated, could not have looked more venomous. His markings became -distinct and glowed. Two black loops far down on his neck became like -great eyes, and the whole snake became so big of head that I looked for -legs, thinking he must be some sort of lizard after all. Never have I -seen a nine-inch creature look so portentous, and when I whacked him on -the head with my net pole and stretched him out, undoubtedly dead, I had -vague feelings that I was dealing with a magical creature that might at -the next move become a dragon like those of King Arthur’s time and take -me down at one fiery gulp. - -It was my first encounter with a harmless inhabitant of the sandy -barrens, the hog-nosed snake. The reptile may grow to a length of three -feet. He has neither fangs nor venom, but he does not need them. When -cornered he simply swells up to thrice his usual size, hisses, and acts -generally as if built out of mowing machines and loaded with cyanide of -potassium. I am still congratulating myself that this sand baby was not -full-grown. If he had been, and terror can kill, the tiny frog-chaser of -the water hyacinths would surely have been avenged. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -BIRDS OF A MORNING - - -An early December bird student in northern Florida suffers from -embarrassment of riches. Never elsewhere have I seen so many varieties -of birds in such numbers. Never elsewhere have I seen such abundant -opportunities for watched birds to hide themselves. The live-oaks range -from shrubs to huge trees, their dense, glossy leaves reflecting the -sunlight and making the spaces behind them vague with shadows. These may -be full of birds; except for a twitter or the flirt of a wing you would -never know it. One after another draws away the drapery of Spanish moss -from an entrance and slips in, or a flock may whirl out and into another -tree, portières of gray lace opening to let them out, and closing behind -them as they enter. - -I have spent many mornings trying to determine which bird is the first -up. During the hot spell of two weeks ago, when the thermometer danced -in the shade with the eighties all day and sank to sweet slumber with -the sixties at night I was quite convinced that it must be the -mockingbird, just because I heard him first. Then quite a few mockers -used to greet the coming of the sun with melody, rolling golden notes of -delightful song over the dew-wet sands from some topmost twig. Just in -front of the house on the river bank is a group of yuccas, fifteen feet -tall or so, stabbing the soft air in all directions with their -needle-pointed Spanish bayonets. - -I fancy every Northerner has to learn the full stabbing power of these -bayonets by experience. A thicket of them is beautiful in its dark green -setting of slim-pointed rosettes and is impassable to a white man as the -outer rim of a British square. It would take a Fuzzy-wuzzy of the -Soudanese tribes to break through in the one case as in the other. I -once read in a novel of a lover who followed the desire of his heart to -Florida, and at the critical moment forced his way to her “penetrating a -thicket of Spanish bayonet.” I now realize that this lover was a man of -steel, else the thicket had penetrated him. Inadvertently I leaned a -little closer to one of these yucca groups the other day, and went to -the repair shop with nineteen punctures, being fortunate that I did not -permanently remain “hung” in the larder of the butcher bird--of whom -more anon. - -The top of a yucca is crowned each summer with a most beautiful pyramid -of waxy, pale yellow flowers, a spike several feet tall with drooping -blooms most delightful to behold, followed by pods that are now -approaching maturity, looking much like stubby green bananas ripening to -a glossy brownish red. On the top of one of these pod-pyramids a mocking -bird used to sit during the warm spell, greeting the dawn with golden -uproar. He and his fellows were most lively then, filling the thickets -with harsh chirps when not singing. The songs of different mockers vary -much, but their chirps are alike and are certainly most unmusical. They -are loud, harsh and guttural. The “mia-u-w” of a catbird is a burst of -melody in comparison. - -But that singing was all for the hot weather. Suddenly the other night -the wind came up out of the north, the mercury fell in the thermometer -to the late forties, and we all froze to death--not as to our bodies, -which simply grew goose-flesh, but in our minds. Singular thing, the -Northern mind. It comes down to Florida from a country where the winter -mercury dandles the zero mark on its knee mornings. It finds the jasmine -in bloom and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. A few mornings -later it finds the mercury at thirty-eight and frost on the jasmine. -This does not specially trouble the jasmine, but it so freezes the -Northern mind that the Northern body has to sit over roaring fires and -rub its goose-flesh until the temperature rises again. But that is -Florida. - -After a second or third forty-degrees-above cold snap the visitor from -frozen climes gets his balance and forgets to shiver, finding the chill -a tonic and the mid-day warmth delightful. So I fancy it is with the -mocking birds. They seem livelier now that cool weather has come, they -chirp and flutter about with much more energy, but not one of them has -opened his mouth in song since the mercury hit fifty. My front-door -friend still sits on his yucca pod part of the day, however, and still I -am puzzled to know when he leaves it and his double comes on duty. - -He is a rather interesting fellow, this double, whom I need not have -mistaken for the mocker at all, he is so different a bird. Yet he is -about the same size, white beneath and with a good deal of gray in his -upper works. Bill and tail differ from those of the mocker; still, at a -distance of a hundred feet a casual glance did not enlighten me. I am -still wondering if there is method in this quiet substitution. The -double is a loggerhead shrike, the Southern butcher-bird. He feeds upon -small birds, and he might well choose the perch which the mocker had -just vacated as a most desirable hunting stand. Small birds flitting -back and forth in the early morning would hear the mocker singing and -know that he would never harm them. Then an hour or two later, flying by -in perfect confidence, they would find themselves in the crooked beak of -the loggerhead, to be impaled on one of the thorns of the yucca beneath -the perch and there dissected at leisure, or left to wait while the -loggerhead takes his ease, “hung” as we say of ducks and snipe. - -Does the loggerhead take the mocking bird’s perch with forethought, -bearing the opportunity in mind and trusting to the resemblance, or is -it just a case of a convenient perch with both birds? He who can read -the loggerhead’s mind may be able to tell me. So far I have failed to -catch the butcher bird at his butchery, and though I look doubtfully at -those convenient Spanish bayonet tips as I pass, I find I am the only -innocent thus far impaled on them. - -Of these small birds that the loggerhead might capture the very name is -legion. All warblers seem to be here, and if they are difficult to keep -track of in the North, here they are well nigh impossible. I find a -live-oak tree full of uncountable flocks. I get the glass on one bird, -and before I can begin to note his characteristics he has flitted like a -shadow and another with far different markings is in his place. Birds -that one knows at a glance may thus be noted at a glance, but the rarer -varieties crowd in upon these until the mind in trying to distinguish -and remember becomes inextricably confused and finally gives up in -despair. I am beginning to believe that every small bird in Chapman’s -“Birds of Eastern North America” is in convention on the west bank of -the St. Johns. Some wiser and more farsighted man than I will have to -tell how many varieties of warblers, finches, sparrows, and flycatchers -may be seen on one good day in early December on the lower banks of the -big river of Florida. - -It is a relief to cross the trails of some more easily seen songsters. -Take the Florida crows, for instance. These are a relaxation rather than -a study. They lack the sardonic virility of their Northern cousins, -these fish crows. They are smaller, not so strong of flight, and their -call has none of the deep “caw, caw, caw” of our bird of canny humor. -Their flight is flappy and less certain, and their cries have a humorous -gurgle in them that seems hardly grown up. They seem like boys that have -just reached the age when the voice breaks with a queer croak in it that -makes you laugh. _Corvus americana_ seems most of the time to be on -definite business. In Massachusetts I have found him in the main -forceful, dignified, and seemingly doing something worth while. _Corvus -ossifragus_ just straggles along with his fellows, having a mighty good -time, and croaking hysterically about it. - -It is a poor half-hour for birds when I do not find one of these flaming -fellows the cardinals setting the thicket on fire. In the warm weather -the cardinals were accustomed to whistle to me. The call, loud and -clear, has a round cheeriness in it that should drive away all -melancholy. The cardinal does not seem in the least afraid of me. If I -approach him he may fly away at the last moment, but more often he -simply sidles around the tree in a stiff, wooden sort of way that he -has, remaining quiet if just a few strands of moss are between us. He -seems to do this with deprecatory awkwardness, as if he knew he dazzled -and tried to be humble about it. I do not think it can be to get out of -sight altogether. If so it is a mistaken caution, for his flame will -burn through quite a bit of gray moss, and where it is shielded by the -deep, shiny green of live-oak leaves it flares only the brighter by the -contrast. - -His wife is even more beautifully clad, and though her olive green and -ashy gray ought to make her less conspicuous the telltale cardinal -blazes on crest, wings and tail, and I am likely to see her about as far -as her flaming consort. I have not heard the female sing, though in -defiance to the usual custom among song birds she is said to, a softer -and even prettier song than that of her vivid mate. But even the male -cardinal does not sing when it is cold, and I have not heard a note from -any of them since the mercury got down to the forty neighborhood. - -Passing from the puzzling opacity of live-oak groves and palmetto scrub -I found myself later in a country far better fitted for hunting birds by -sight. That was one of the interminable stretches of long-leaved pine -forest of which this part of Florida is largely made. Here are trees -that shoot up straight as arrows, sixty to a hundred feet high. Rarely -is there a limb in the first fifty feet and the plumed tops seem to -intercept the vivid sunlight but little. Under foot the carpet of twelve -to fifteen inch needles is well called pine straw. It is a place of -singular silence and a bewildering sameness. Along interminable levels -you may look for what seem endless miles between these straight trunks -till they draw together in the gray distance and, in kindness, shut off -the view. One needs a compass and provisions to plunge, a wandering -submarine, beneath this sea of similarity, and I skirted its edge only, -lest I get lost and spend my days in an unending circuit. - -Slipping along this polishing carpet of needles I heard what I at first -took to be the familiar note of chickadees. Yet it was not that either. -It was too throaty and lacked the gleeful definiteness of the chickadee. -In fact it was a poor attempt. - -Soon I saw the birds, gleaning in a gray group, hanging this way and -that just as chickadees do. They had decided crests and I quite readily -recognized them for the tufted titmouse which in this country takes the -place of the chickadee. - -The flock passed busily on and for a moment the silence of the place was -impressive. A gentle wind was slightly swaying the tops of these tall -trees, but there was no song of the pines to be heard. Underfoot -partridge berry and pipsissewa, pyrola and club moss, which by right -should always grow under pines, were not to be seen. Only the rich brown -of the pine straw and the dark mould of decaying fallen trunks was -there. Here and there a tiny shrub, usually a scrub live-oak, put out a -feeble green, but it was not enough to break the monotony of melancholy -that seemed to pervade the place. It was broken, though, in another -moment. There was a whirr of wings and half-a-dozen birds dived, -seemingly out of heaven, each on his own route, whirled with a whirrup -of wings and lighted lightly as an athlete each on his chosen tree -trunk. - -It was like a circus act. For a moment each bird remained motionless, -his stiff tail feathers jammed into the trunk below him, his head drawn -back as if awaiting a signal, and through the melancholy silence came a -creaking “k-r-r-k, kr-r-r-k.” It might have been a weather-vane swaying -in the wind or it might have been tree toads. But it was neither. It was -simply the voice of a flock of red-headed woodpeckers. These birds are -rare in my locality North, but they seem here to be familiar spirits of -the wood. Smaller and less beautiful than partridge woodpeckers, they -seem much like them in their antics, which are always clown-like and -amusing. They tap wood and pull grubs as if they knew I was looking at -them and wanted to make the little farce as funny as possible. - -The circus clown might well take the spirit of his antics from the -actions of red-headed woodpeckers in a Southern pine forest. After -scrambling in a jerky ludicrousness up a stub one would pause on the top -of it motionless for a time, reminding me of an awkward boy trying to -pose as Ajax defying the lightning. Then another would dive at him in -full flight, driving him from his perch at the last moment, only to take -it and assume the exact pose of the former, the whole thing done with -the alert precision of a pair of good circus performers. Then the -substitute, still motionless, would give his little treetoad-like creak, -as if saying in humorous humility, “How’s that for an act?” Taine, the -historian, has written of the immense loneliness of the pine barrens. -But it is to be supposed that Taine was never entertained there by a -flock of red-headed woodpeckers. But then, there are people whom -vaudeville makes lonely. - -I have not named the half of the birds I can identify of a morning in -this great aviary, nor have I named the two that pleased me most. One -was just plain bluebird, a young bird of a silent flock that slipped -through the trees of the town. This young bird had not yet his mature -plumage, and he hung behind and peered about in an uncertain way as if -much impressed with the wonders of this new place to which mother had -brought him, but still a bit lonesome and unsettled. I was right glad to -see bluebirds. I have looked in vain so far for robins. The other is a -bird that came with the cold snap and hangs about the tip of the Orange -Park dock almost a quarter of a mile out in the river, without visible -means of support. He hides under the stringers when I approach him, but -I have had several good views, and if I know a snow bunting when I see -one, this is he. What business he has so far South is more than I can -tell, and he seems to feel an alien by the way he clings to the -seclusion of the dock. Perhaps he came on the wrong boat and is only -waiting for a return ticket. At any rate I was glad to see him and I -wish him a safe return. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -’TWIXT ORANGE GROVE AND SWAMP - - -The old Greek myth-makers sang with poetic fervor of the golden apples -of the Hesperides, which no doubt were oranges, nor do I blame them for -their fervor. Apples they knew, and knew, too, that nothing could be -more beautiful than an apple tree, holding its dappled fruit bravely up -to the pale October sun. But oranges came to them out of the misty west, -a region that the setting sun set glowing with romance each night, and -then swathed in the purple evanescence of darkness. Something of this -delight of mystery has flavored the fruit ever since, and we taste it -with mental palate before its pulp passes the lips. - -I had thought all the orange trees of northern Florida killed by the -great cold of a decade ago, and so in the main they were. But there are -spots on the east bank of the lower St. Johns where the miles of warm -water tempered the cold somewhat, so that though the trees were cut to -the ground the life in the roots remained and has since burgeoned in -reborn groves. The trees sprouted from the stump as oaks and chestnuts -do in a Northern woodland, and now the sprouts bear fruit. At Mandarin, -a dozen miles from Jacksonville, are such groves through one of which I -delight to take my way to “the branch.” It is literally a branch of the -level river into which it so smoothly glides with never a ripple on its -black surface or a clot of foam to cloud its mirror. - -Swamp and grove meet but do not mingle, the dividing line being firmly -drawn by the teeth of the harrow that all summer long vexes the sand -beneath the orange trees. With all its persistence this harrow barely -keeps down the scutch and dog fennel and a score or two of other weeds -that under soaking shower and fervid sun continually rise rampant. Even -now that the almanac has decreed winter rosettes of seedlings of a score -of nascent annuals spangle the gray with green that softens its glare to -the eye and tempts the knight-errant grasshoppers. These zip from glare -to glare, and seem to creak a bit as the tiny coolness of the northern -breeze touches the joints of their machinery. - -Sitting in the grateful shadow of an orange tree, facing sunward in the -grove, the world becomes an expanse of glistening white sand, blotched -with the deep green masses of foliage, - -[Illustration: “In the grateful shadow of an orange tree facing sunward -in the grove”] - -dappled with the gold of as yet unpicked fruit. Over yonder a short -ladder spires above a tree and I can hear the snip-snip of the picker’s -shears and the soft thud of fruit dropped into big bags. The noise fits -in with the rampant listlessness of the creaking grasshopper machinery, -a busy, drowsy blurring of staccato sounds that has a sleepy insistence. -It fits the gray glitter of the sand and the shining sun. I note an -orange sulphur butterfly, just the color of the fruit on which he seems -to linger, where in the sun he may match his own shade. I have a fancy -that he does this consciously, the dark tips of his wings contrasting -harmoniously, as the black-green, glossy foliage does, with the golden -fruit. - -Something of this semi-conscious matching up of colors seems to exist in -other insect life of the grove. The “orange puppy” that feeds on the -young leaves is black with the same quality of blackness and curiously -mottled with a cool gray of lichens and gray moss. When he rests quietly -on a twig he is part of its growth, simply a gnarled excrescence, but no -caterpillar. When by and by he tucks himself up for slumber in silk -homespun and later, joyous, emerges, he has still the colors of the -orange grove, the pale yellow of ripening fruit, barred with the dark -shadows that are set by linear leaves on all that flits beneath them. -One finds many happy insects among the oranges, too many perhaps for -the joy of the grower, the perfection of whose product they mar. None -should be happier than this _Papilio cresphontes_ butterfly that is -hatched on an orange twig, fattened on the crisp green leaves, falls -asleep in their shadow and finally wakes, a spike-tailed fairy with -shimmering black and gold wings, to drink deep of the honeyed dew in the -gold hearts of odorous orange blossoms. - -On the edge of the grove, at the very mark of the harrow, rises the -tangle of the swamp margin. On the higher ground is the sumac, the -leaves still green, though ripening in the margins to a dull red, -holding none of the vivid flame that burns the Northern sumac leaves to -ashes before October is over. It is December, indeed, and the wind out -of the north has sometimes a wire edge of northern ice on it, but the -first margin of dense trees that lines the river bank takes off this -edge and the sun floods all the sheltered places with warmth that bids -one seek the shade for shelter. There still he finds a sniff of tonic -ozone in the air, expanding the exultant spirit while yet the body -revels in a genial glow. The day seems a child of June, with October for -its father. Elder crowds the sumac and blackberry canes tangle the two. -The scuppernong grape twines supple vines all about and hangs its -crinkly pale green leaves in festoons to the tops of the sweet-gum -trees in the swamp behind. The pale amber wine of the scuppernong grape -seems to hold in its depths something of the golden delight of this -December sun, and just a tang of the vigor of the north wind. - -The sweet-gum tree fills the swampy ground along the St. Johns -“branches” and sheds its maple-like leaves in December. Sailing up the -broad river you may trace the swampy spots now by the soft gray of bare -twigs of the sweet gum, in beautiful contrast to the glossy dark green -of live-oak and the paler silkiness of plumy tops of the long-leaved -pines of the barrens. Its roots dispute the very black depths of the -flowing waters with those of the cypress, and its purpling autumn leaves -seem like those of a Massachusetts swamp maple that have by some -mischance ripened without vividness. The sour-gum tree, which is nothing -more than the tupelo which grows on the swamp edges at home, thrives as -well in Florida and is true to its colors. The rich red of its leaves -makes the most vivid blotches of autumn coloring I have yet found here. -Along with the scuppernong grows its cousin vine, the Virginia creeper. -This too holds much of its Northern red in the passing leaves. The -homesick Northerner in Florida at this time of year will do well to take -to the swamps. The pinky gray of baring sweet-gum twigs, the rich red -of the bordering tupelos and the festooning ampelopsis will do much to -make him feel at home. - -Just beyond the mark of the harrow tooth the goldenrod has bloomed and -the fluffy plumes of brown seed pappus mound into obese, inverted -cornucopias for the seed-eating birds that flock along the swamp margin. -The grapes and the Virginia creepers have been high-minded and have not -rested without topping the tallest trees, but the greenbrier seems to -have had less ambition. It has been content to help the blackberries -tousle the close-set margin of the field, and its glossy green leaves -and purple berries add their colors to the rest. The greenbrier here is -gentler in its ways than our Northern representative. That well merits -the name of horsebrier which is often given it. It is as strong as a -horse and the kick-back of its stretched sinews will drive its numerous -thorns to the hilt in your obtruding flesh. This vine has hardly thorns -enough to be felt, and its leaves instead of ovate are hastate or -halberd-shaped, whence I take the plant to be the _Smilax auriculata_. - -I doubt if I would change Northern thickets in any particular, but if I -would it should be to suggest gently to the horsebrier that its Southern -cousin’s ways are most admirable and might be imitated to advantage. The -auriculata does grip you valiantly and even scratch your legs when you -would penetrate it with undue haste, but it is such a polite and -lady-like scratch in comparison with some that might be mentioned that -you feel like saying “thank you” rather than other things. In the wetter -spots big purple asters which I take to be _Aster elliottii_, out of all -the maze of scores of varieties of Southern asters, toss their corymbed -heads in the breeze and still invite the passing butterfly. Cool weather -has thinned out the butterflies, only the strongest remaining. About the -asters flit a big and little sulphur and a lone zebra. But there are a -half-dozen monarchs coming and going. These seem to be the strongest and -most able to withstand cool weather of all butterflies. I see them out -earliest in the morning and latest at night, often soaring in shade on -days when the December wind has a Northern nip in it and when no other -varieties are visible. - -Loveliest of all old friends that help to make this thicket-borderland -homelike is the Andropogon, the purple wood-grass, that holds the dryer -corners with its brave wine-red culms and its gray mist of bearded -blooms. The pampas grass is cultivated in gardens here in Florida for -its feathery plumes. These are beautiful, no doubt, but their beauty -cannot compare with that of the clumps of purple wood-grass that grow in -the neglected border between this dark orange grove with its glistening -white sands and the black depths of the swamp that borders the little -branch. The _Andropogon scoparius_ of our sandy fields north is less -robust than this buxom beauty of the barrens. It grows but a scant knee -high and seems to me now but slender and rather pale. This, which is I -think the _Andropogon arctatus_, grows to my chin, and its culms seem as -red as the skin of a ripening baldwin apple, a rich wine red that -intoxicates the eye and makes it see in the misty beard of the tips a -frothing as of bubbles rising to the top of a glass but now filled. With -this the Florida fields seem to have as much of the joy of autumn as -they can hold, and in it to drink deep to the passing of the purple -year. - -Through this border tangle one goes to enter the solemn silence of the -swamp where the black water seems to listen as it glides breathlessly by -to the river. In the steaming warmth of midsummer the place must drip -with purple shadows. Now, because the sweet gums and swamp maples are -losing their leaves it holds only a sun-flecked twilight that soothes -after the black shadows beneath the orange trees and the glare of the -sand. Here one may draw a long breath and let the bustle of a busy world -slip from him. I have the same feeling on entering a church of a week -day and hearing the heavy ticking of the clock. The silence broods. The -maples are already bare, the gum trees partly, and the feathery fronds -of cypress have grown brown on the trees and in part fallen, slipping -one by one to the placid surface where they add their color to the -purple of the other thick-strewn leaves. - -In these fleets of dead and gone one gets the nearest approach to a -Northern autumn that I have found as yet in all the woods. The small -birds that frequent the groves do not seem to enter here and there is no -sound of their twitter. Only the leaves are noisy within the place. -Those which touch limp margins on the water have found a quiet that is -finality. But their fellows, saying a final good-by to the twig, do it -with little glad chirps as if the spirit within each joyed at its -release. Nor is this the last cry. Many chuckle at each touch of limb -and trunk on the way down and reach the water with an audible pat. Poets -to the contrary notwithstanding, autumn is a joyous time with the -leaves, at least those of deciduous trees. The maples, the sycamores, -and the sweet gums all seem to give the laugh to the evergreens as they -pass. The bare limbs stretch skyward with a relieved resurgence as of -those who have done good work and welcome rest. Compared with them now -the live-oaks seem over-tasked. They are as somber as Northern pines in -winter, burdened with a never-ending routine of business. - -I cannot say that the swamp cypresses seem glad. They are so weighted -and surpliced with vestments of gray moss, priestly robes that sweep -from upraised arms to the very water, that they are like weird priests -of a lonely world mumbling perpetual incantations deep in their swaying -gray beards. - -The only bird of the swamp to-day was a great heron that looked white as -he stood facing me, his chin in somber meditation on his breast, as if -he might be a carving in stone, that suddenly took flight on tremendous -wings, flapping solemnly out into the river sunshine and taking a post -far out on an ancient, decaying dock. I might better have said becoming -a post, for had I not seen him light I might have sworn he was part of -the structure. He hunched himself up there till he had no more form than -a decaying timber and his big beak, crossed at a wooden right angle to -the rest of him, was exactly as if it had been nailed on. Only with the -bird glass did I make sure that he was not a post after all. Then I -discovered that instead of being the great blue heron, as I at first -supposed, it was the Florida form, known as Ward’s heron, a bird much -like the great blue but even greater, the lower part lighter and the -legs olive instead of black. - -I think Ward’s heron more lonesome and preternaturally solemn than any -other, and he seems - -[Illustration: “Under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the -ancient cypress trees”] - -to belong under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the ancient -cypress trees. He is as grotesque and wooden in his make-up as they. - -The passing sun dropped the cool garment of December night lightly down -through the bare limbs. The heron came flapping noiselessly back to his -perch, to sway away like a gray ghost when he saw me still there. The -low latitudes have summer and winter in each twenty-four hours, -midsummer in the fervid warmth of the afternoon sun, midwinter in the -black chill that comes between midnight and dawn. I passed reluctantly -from the swamp while yet the level rays shone in long shafts of light -through the mystic aisles. The heron was waiting to come back. It was -time to be gone, yet I lingered lovingly where in one spot on the very -margin of the black swamp water grew a single plant of _Andropogon -arctatus_. It stood ankle deep in the water, a perfect plume of misty -softness that had none of the wine-red radiance of its brothers of the -open border. In the gray twilight it was a slender spirit of wood-grass, -pale and sweet, the dearest creature of the day. - -As I came along the western border of the orange grove with the placid -river reflecting the crimson of the sunset between the great live-oak -boles and the dripping streamers of gray moss, the full moon walked -with me over the eastern border, seeming to stand a moment on tree after -tree, a rounder and more perfect orange than any tree has yet borne, a -symbol, let us believe, of a golden total of crops yet to come. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -JASMINE AND CHEROKEE ROSES - - -Almost a half century ago Harriet Beecher Stowe lived on the banks of -the St. Johns River and wrought for noble ideals in her own brave, -cheery way. In “Palmetto Leaves” she tells of the beautiful country -round about her home, of the three great live-oaks that sheltered it, -and of a caged cardinal grosbeak that used to sit on his perch by her -door and sing enthusiastically, “What cheer! What cheer!” The slaves for -whom she wrote and wrought are now but a memory, and the State of -Florida itself forbids the caging of wild birds, however sweetly they -sing or however cheerily they bear their captivity. The fine old house -that nestled beneath the live-oaks so confidingly that its broad veranda -partly clasped one of them has long since been torn down; and its very -foundations obliterated by the tangle of wild verdure that rises here so -soon from the unvexed earth; but the live-oaks remain, towering with -rounded heads still higher and stretching noble arms in still wider -benediction. - -From the very tip of one of them this morning a tiny crimson flame -burned in the sun as if a spirit of clear fire had grown up from the -earth her feet had pressed, traversing all the arteries of the noble oak -and finally lingering a moment poised for celestial flight, and from the -flame fell the voice of a cardinal grosbeak shouting in clear mellow -notes, “What cheer! What cheer!” A half-century is but a breath carved -out of time, yet in it both birds and men have found freedom, and still -spirits of clear flame poise upon the heights and bravely call, “What -cheer!” For all I know this cardinal may be a lineal descendant of that -other and have caught a voice of joyous prophecy from the place. - -I have yet to see nobler specimens of the live-oak than these trees that -still hold their ground where the old-time battle was so bravely and -cheerily fought. To the cardinal as he swam into the morning glow and -vanished they must have seemed three mighty domes of dense green. To me -standing below they were the pillars and arches of a cool cathedral in -whose dim upper recesses the mystic mistletoe hangs its strange, -yellowish-green leaves and its pearl-white berries. More is born of -thought than we are yet willing to acknowledge. Who knows what -exaltation has come down the ages wrapped within the fiber of these -druidical plants, to be subtly distilled on all beneath? - -As the oaks are green above, so are they ghostly gray below with the -long swaying draperies of Spanish moss that drip deep from every limb. -These make prophets of eld of the great trees, and one stands beneath as -in the inner council of the Sanhedrim. Great ideals could have found no -braver setting than this, and the cool north wind that sings across the -river seems to make one feel here the very breath of Puritanical -austerity, of renunciation of self for the sake of others, and perhaps -too of the Puritan’s scorn for any other method than his own. The -sweetly surgent life of blossoming vines that climb in friendly embrace -over all wild things here at Mandarin caresses and wooes with perfume -all the spot and dares the rugged trunks of the great oaks themselves, -yet it may not touch the cathedral mystery and majesty of their shadowy -arches a half-hundred feet up. The high, clear spirit of the place is -still regnant. - -Round about Mandarin sweeps Florida, which has been touched and in tiny -spots remodeled by alien hands ever since the days of De Soto, yet -remains Florida still, wayward, lavish, wild and loving all things with -sunny, sensuous profusion. It has been the scene of one experiment -after another, and has obliterated the remains. Its tangle of vivid -growth sweeps over many a ruin, from Fernandino to Biscayne Bay, the -very building of which has been forgotten save perhaps in musty archives -of some distant and less sunny clime in which the scheme originated. -Just at this corner of the State, a quarter-century ago, the sweep of -the river on one side and of untrammeled Florida on the other, inclosed -a bit of Old England in a tiny colony of English people who had settled -here, cleared the jungle and the level stretches of tall, long-leaved -pine, and planted orange groves. - -They brought with them sturdy English thrift and unchanging English -ways, and soon the orange groves were everywhere, filling the spring air -with the rich scent of their waxy white blooms and making the autumn -days yellow with golden fruit. Docks sprang in narrow white lines far -over the shallows to the deep waters where ships might load with the -precious cargo for Northern ports, and English lanes and hedgerows -divided and connected the groves. In English gardens bloomed roses and -lilies and violets, and English ivy climbed over wide porches and set a -somber background for all the odorous tropic and semi-tropic wild vines -that loving hands planted with it. I can fancy the jungle leaning in -wild gorgeousness over the outermost hedgerows and biding its time. For -fifty years, since 1835, no harmful cold had reached this portion of -Florida, but the jungle knew. Fifty years was but as a day in its -experience. - -It was on a February day in 1886 that it came. That noon the mercury -stood at eighty degrees and all the gorgeous profusion of semi-tropical -spring growth filled the air about with perfume of flowers that spangled -all things. The kind sun steeped the land in content and the negroes -sang at their work, knowing and loving its fervor on their bent backs. -By mid-afternoon clouds had come up out of the southwest and much rain -fell bringing a chill in the air such as may often be felt here in -February, or indeed at any time between November and April. But this -chill instead of passing with the clouds grew with the setting sun and -when his last red light came across the river the rain had turned to -icicles that hung in alien glory from all the trees. There they swayed -and clashed in the keen northwest wind all night, and before morning the -astonished glass had registered the temperature of a Northern winter -night, fifteen above or thereabouts. - -The very jungle itself must have been black in the face with dismay and -a thousand acres of orange groves that were bearing five to fifteen -boxes of noble fruit to the tree were frozen to the very roots. It was a -black day for the little English colony, a day from which it has never -recovered. The trees sprang from the roots, were rebudded by the more -courageous only to be cut to the ground again about ten years later. A -second time the more tenacious spirits began their work over again, but -the courage of the colony was gone and though there are still groves of -five hundred to a thousand trees here that for a third time are -beginning to bear well, all faith in the prosperity of orange growing so -far north in the peninsula is gone. - -New prosperity is growing up in the little town and another type of -people are making good here, but the fine houses of the orange growers -stand for the most part tenantless, some for almost a score of years. -The ancient gardens have taken pattern from the jungle and grown with -all its lawless luxuriance, and the once trim hedgerows riot in a -profusion that is as bewildering as it is beautiful. - -Sometimes at night I think the tenants have come back. In the slender -light of the new moon I seem to see white hands reaching out to refasten -blinds that swing drunkenly from one hinge, and desisting in despair as -the rude wind snatches them away and slams them. Sometimes in the full -glare of day, peering through a broken pane I seem to see an old-time -owner moving about in a room that a second later holds but -long-forgotten furniture and a transparent form that dissolves in -dancing motes of sun-smitten dust. - -I find the ghosts nearest and friendliest, however, in the tangled -growth of the old gardens. One that I love best lies far from the -present town and I like to come to it from the jungle side, lured by the -spicy breath of oleander blossoms. The north wind loses the salt breath -of the river tides as he passes the house and draws deep on these rosy -blooms, taking such store that he spills it through the foot-long -needles of every pine that he passes. Coming from the swamp tangle -beneath the sweet-gums and cypress, pushing through chin-high purple -wood-grass, I let it lead me to-day straight to a huge ridge of wild -cherokee rose plants that had once, no doubt, been an orderly hedge. It -is winter now and sometimes the night brings frost, but the wild -cherokee roses do not seem to mind that. The life vigor in them is such -that it pushes out pointed white buds even now, and these open into five -broad petals of pure white with a golden heart of close-pressed stamens. - -The plant is so rough with its stubborn, hooked thorns set shoulder to -shoulder along its stout interlacing stems that no finer hedge plant -could be imagined. Not the deepest-flanked wild bull could push through -this tangle were it devoid of thorns. Not the toughest-hided one could -attempt those thorns without being torn and repulsed. And out of these -stout stems, from among the defiant thorns spring these dainty white -blooms bearing in their gold hearts a faint, fine perfume that is too -modest to sail forth as does that of the oleanders on the errant wind. -You must put your face close to the bloom and dare the thorns as you -sniff deep before you know its fineness; but it is worth the trouble. - -In and out among the cherokee thorns the wanton jasmine climbs. There is -no place that it does not caress. Along the sand, amid brown leaves of -deciduous trees, it creeps. It slips under porches and puts bud noses up -through the cracked floors of long-disused buildings. It climbs trees -and swings boldly from their topmost boughs, and later it blows yellow -trumpets of invitation to the whole world and sends a sensuous perfume -far and wide that all who pass may breathe their fill. The jasmine is -common to all of the Florida world, yet withal it is so friendly sweet -to each that none may have the heart to disapprove. The cherokee rose is -different. He who would win the perfume of its heart of gold must bleed -a bit, perchance, and wear an individual bloom very close before he gets -it. - -Coasting the thorn hedge, swinging the ancient gate on rusty hinge, a -roadway leads me beneath sweet-gum and live-oak to the tennis court. Its -level rectangle is still bare and close turfed with flat-bladed grass -and a tiny, stemless plant whose reniform leaves are no bigger than my -little finger nail, and help hold the even level of close green. Only in -one spot has this turf been invaded. There a lawless honeysuckle has -made a patch of its own glossy with green leaves. All else is as it -stood when the last tennis ball bounded freely from its elastic surface. -The sun steeps all this rectangle till it is one deep pool of golden -light where silence and forgetfulness bathe. - -The wilderness noises which come to the edge of this space but emphasize -its silence and forgetfulness. In the trees that rim the court about -ever-changing flocks of birds flit and chatter. Blue jays clang -tintinnabulations, woodpeckers tap and croak tree-toad notes, warblers -and sparrows and titmice and fly-catchers twinkle and chirp, and often -try a half song of almost forgotten melody. Cardinals cry “tut, tut” -much as uneasy robins do, but in softer and more cooing tones. A -Carolina wren grows nervously curious in the cedar beneath which I sit, -and flirts and quivers and scolds as only a wren can, coming nearer and -nearer till I might almost put up my hand and touch his vibrating brown -body. Then he withdraws a little and whistles till the cardinals lift -their crested heads and listen and a tufted titmouse answers. -“Teakettle, teakettle, teakettle,” he cries, and the very spirit of an -English garden descends into the golden air. Gossamer threads of -spider-web float silverly from tree to tree, argent ghosts of the -old-time net, till I hear in the bird notes the chatter of laughing -voices, and for a moment the place is peopled with gay young folk in -flannels and the game goes merrily on. - -It may have been that the lady of the house served the tea for which the -wren called so lustily in the shade of the garden tangle which now rises -twenty feet on the house side and completely hides it, though it is but -a stone-toss away. Here cedar, spice bush, bayberry and oleander crowd -one another in a struggle for upward supremacy in which the oleanders -win, their trunks, as large as a man’s thigh at the base, dividing into -long, aspiring branches that are pinnacled with pointed leaves and -sprays of fragrant bloom. The jasmine climbs here, too, twining and -straggling, loving and leaving, but the garden cherokees shoot upward in -clean, noble sweeps that carry their brave stems almost to the oleander -tops, whence they bound in long exultation, arching to the ground -again. - -I do not find these in bloom out of season, but the roses that crowd the -crumbling arbor within toss up sprays of pink whose scent intertwines -with that of the oleanders. It is a sad garden now, for all its riot of -growth, for the ground beneath is dank with shade and decay and its once -prim palings fall this way and that in a snarl of rough weeds where the -sesbania opens its two-beaned pods and rattles in every passing breeze. -The old house itself, once so prim and erect, seems to droop wearily, in -round-shouldered senility, to the ground which already claims corners of -the wide verandas. The pinnate-leaved stems of a twining vine, starred -with white blooms, reach up to it lovingly and climb wistfully, only to -drag it down with the tiny weight which it once held up so -unconsciously. Within, the wind which sighs through broken panes carries -light footfalls from room to room and as it sways long unlatched doors -these grumble one to another, mumbling like uneasy sleepers who wait -long for the cockcrow of dawn. - -Down on the waterfront an ancient cement breakwater still guards smooth -sands and the waves lap patiently at this, wearing it away -infinitesimally and talking to one another in liquid undertones. They -alone of all the voices of the place are oblivious of tenants past and -present, of growth or decay, telling in changeless tones the tales the -waters have told since long before man began, a primordial cell in their -unending depths. The waterfront of the old place seems most melancholy -of all, for there nature has failed most to hide the swift decay of -man’s work. Yet there I notice with satisfaction one thing. That is the -defiant erectness and primness of the English ivy that climbs one side -of the house. This neither straggles nor retreats, but goes squarely -upward as it was long ago set to do. It seems to hold the house up -rather than to drag it down, an epitome of that British sturdiness from -which it was transplanted but from which it may not swerve. - -The low swinging sun faded into dun clouds to westward, letting a winter -chill fall upon the place and bringing thoughts of the open fire at home -with the big pitch logs shooting crimson flames up the wide chimney. Yet -through all the chill air the oleanders held their rosy blooms proudly -aloft and the pink roses sent their perfume too, following me along the -sandy, hedge-bordered road on the homeward way. After all, the memory of -the old place which always follows farthest is that of perfume and -golden sunshine and the ghosts of merry voices echoing through the -garden tangle and down the golden depths of the forgotten tennis court. -Dearest of all is the heart of the wild cherokee rose, holding its -faint, elusive perfume for those only who care enough to dare the stab -of its keen, defensive thorns. - -Dark clouds gloomed the west as I passed the Stowe place. It seemed -inexpressibly gloomy and lonesome under the great arching oaks where the -wild tangle of grape and jasmine, greenbrier, and I know not what other -vines and shrubs cloaks the crumbling foundations and makes a thorny and -impenetrable jungle of the walks the gracious lady’s feet once trod, and -crowds and smothers the plants and shrubs she once tended. The -sheltering oaks seemed to brood a silence of sorrow, failure, and -forgetfulness. Of the chapel, the school, and the work she nobly tried -to do among the poor and ignorant, what traces here remained? And then -the sun shone low under the western clouds and sent red beams in beneath -the brooding live-oak limbs and touched all the swaying moss with fire, -lighting up the cathedral arches with a golden warmth and radiance that -glorified the place and all thoughts connected with it. Over on the -darkening lane a negro boy, born free, whistled on his way home, a -little cadenced fragment of a tune without beginning or end--a whistle -like that of the cardinal that had flown, a crimson flame, into the -morning air. I knew then that whatever crumbles, the spirit of cheer and -devotion and self-sacrifice lives on unquenched. The jungle may ride -over and obliterate the Stowe place and the lovely English gardens, but -the spirit of devotion that burned in the one and of homemaking -hospitality that glowed in the other can never be quenched. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A FROSTY MORNING IN FLORIDA - - -It was out of a moonless night that the frost came--a night whose sky -was velvety black and seemed to hold no stars. Instead they had slipped -moorings and on slender cables, I do not know how many thousand million -miles long, were swung down toward the earth, quivering with friendly -yellow fires as if to warm as well as light it. In a Northern December -night the stars are diamond dust, splintered in keen glints from a -matrix of black onyx. Their shine is that of scintillant spears of -electricity. Here they are radiant golden globes swung just above the -treetops. The wind out of the north was hushed and in the stillness the -frost sprites that had soared gleefully upon it far beyond their usual -habitat fell to earth, motionless. They were very young and adventurous -frost sprites, and the sudden dawn found only their feathery white -garments resting on exposed surfaces; the sprites themselves had already -evaporated into invisible mists in terror of the coming fervid sun. - -The first rays of the sun licked up these gray, feathery frost garments -and only in the shadows did you still feel the chill the night had -brought. Only the sweet potato vines seem to have been harmed by this -wee frost. Down on the river’s brink the tangle of convolvulus still -shows great white blooms as large as the palm of the hand. The river -radiates warmth all night and it is a bitter cold that reaches the -blossoms on its brim. In the gardens the roses, red and white and -yellow, did not seem to mind. Dense walls of thick foliage had kept the -cold from them and the jasmine whose yellow blooms seem to glow with -their own warmth. The slim, pointed buds of the jasmine are to the open -flowers now as a million to one, and not a bud even had been harmed. The -sweet potato vines, however, were not so fortunate. Their heart-shaped -leaves turned black and shriveled when the sun struck them. - -Out of the sudden gray of dawn came the sun, a glowing ruby in a sky of -clear gold. To look at this sky was to forget the chill and bathe in a -rich warmth which seemed to distill from it invisible gold dust as the -day advanced. By nine o’clock summer had come back, and all the open -spaces in the wood were wells of this sky-distilled gold, through which -you saw all things in a subtle haze of romance, as if the frost sprites -had brought in their train all the joyous people out of fairyland. To -walk through narrow forest roads where the sand made all footfalls -noiseless was to glide forward without seeming effort, and in this rich -atmosphere of vaporous gold surprise Oberon and Titania kissing beneath -the mistletoe, to note the quiver of oak leaves as elves frolicked along -their mossy boughs, and to see Puck starting forth to put a girdle round -the earth in forty minutes. - -To be sure, if I watch Oberon and Titania long enough with the glass I -shall perchance find them but a pair of redbirds, beauteous in crimson -and olive green. The elfin train may become a flock of kinglets and -warblers quivering in and out along the limbs in search of breakfast, -and Puck be but a roguish red-headed woodpecker. These December birds -are as elusive and as full of vanishings and roguish tricks as any fairy -train in Christendom. - -Florida roads have the same elusive quality. They part and bow to one -another, meet and touch hands and glide away again as if dancing a -minuet, leading you in a mazy dance hither and thither to the most -delightful surprises. Here a tree has fallen before the wind or under -the ax of a careless woodman, and blocks the way. Little does the road -care for that. It leaves itself with an airy flourish of sandy ruts for -good-bye as if just to avoid the obstruction. Then it may wander a dozen -rods among slim trunks or along catbrier tangle, quietly seeking stray -blue gentians or golden tufts of St. Peter’s wort, and saunter gently -back to itself, or it may swing a wide corner and leave you at some -man’s front gate, to admire his cherokee roses and negotiate with his -dogs as best you may. To the traveler eager for some definite -destination this quality may have its vexations. To the wood wanderer -seeking but to find the true heart of a golden haze, conscious most of -the mystic quality of all untrammeled nature and unexplored places, it -is but an added delight. - -If on such a day the birds of the bush have their elfin quality most -strongly evident, those always fay-like creatures the short-horned -grasshoppers are not to be forgotten. In the still haze of the yellow -pine forest their shrill voices seem to make the stillness audible, to -give it pitch and quality. Here on a leaf sits one, catching the full -heat of the sun twice, once direct and again as it is reflected from the -leaf’s gloss. His antennæ are short and brown, arched most delicately -from a straight brow that seems to denote dignity of thought. His long, -brown wings fit neatly to his brown abdomen and his legs have the same -shade. He seems cloaked in the soft, delicate color from head to foot, -yet you can but suspect that this is a domino, which he will later cast -aside and appear a glittering sprite. - -[Illustration: “A wilderness where deer and bear still linger”] - -Of those fairy creatures which attended Prospero on his island of -shipwreck this well might be one in a fitting disguise. None of the -flitting bird-fays is more beautifully cloaked than he in this exquisite -brown. As I watch him the sun glints in a lenticular eye, and I know by -this that he is full of laughter at my ignorance. Not one of the airy -sprites that plagued Prospero’s guests could be more demure or more full -of roguery than he. From the bushes beside the path as I pass, other -fays of the true locust clan flip into the air on long, shimmering, -silver wings and vanish after flying along in level flight for a hundred -yards. And here in the grass at my feet is Caliban. - -He is a clumsy and stupid lout, this Caliban whom some people call the -lubber grasshopper; the very dolt of his class. He is huge, longer than -a man’s finger and bigger than his thumb, and he has ridiculous short -wings that I am sure he cannot use. They are beautifully mottled and -gauzy with pinkish shadows, these wings, and seem as much out of place -as those of the loveliest tiny fairy of the Christmas pantomime would on -a pig. He moves his greenish-yellow body as slowly as Caliban did his -when going sulkily to his heaviest task and Trinculo and his fellow must -needs be very drunk indeed before they would sleep beneath the same -cloak with him. On first seeing the lubber grasshopper I wondered that -anything so fat and clumsy should continue to exist in a country -swarming with insect-eating birds, but even the barnyard fowls will have -none of him. - -At the start on this morning of gold born of white frost my path led me -down the river bank under arching live-oaks. All to northward the pearl -river was of glass that softened and melted into a blue haze where, -miles beyond, the farther bank hung as indistinct and unreal as a dream, -an illusion through which glided a white phantom of a turpentine -steamer, kicking up frothing hills of water behind it, a sea-serpentlike -line of humps whose head was the great stern wheel. There is a quiet and -solemnity in these high-vaulted paths beneath the river oaks that seems -to withdraw on the one hand from the witchery of the pine forest and the -glamour of the river on the other. - -Something of the England of the middle ages seems to have drifted over -seas and down the years to this spot. A monastery should be just beyond, -and, though perhaps he does not know it, Jones, the postmaster, -traversed monastic aisles as he walked his mile this morning to the tiny -post office. Far beyond in the open beneath the big pines I hear blue -jays blowing clarion calls of challenge to the lists and the tramp of -hoofs as knights in armor ride the winding paths to be present at the -tourney. There are days down here when I know the charging hoofs to be -those of razorbacks scuttling through the underbrush and the amble of -palfreys is but that of half wild cattle going down to feed in the river -flats, but not on a morning like this. The gold haze of stillness after -frost has put a spell upon all things. - -The great Florida heron that frequents my favorite swamp and with whom I -am beginning to feel neighborly intimate takes on goblin traits with the -rest of the witchery. Out in the shallows of the pearl river was a new -stump, gray and waterworn, with a long branch sticking straight upward. -Something uncanny about this stump made me watch it long. It was the -deadest gray stump I ever saw, evidently a swollen cypress root with the -bark long worn off. By and by this stump grew a head and the wood -changed to gray-blue feathers in the twinkling of an eye. Thus goblins -arrive from underground and dryads step from trees; but what should a -rotten cypress stump produce? Here was a chimera of a bird with a neck -three feet long, a bob of a head and a body like that of a gray goose -that did not sit on the water but was suspended just above it as a -mirage sits on the desert horizon, separated from everything by a gray -mist of nothing. Then the bob of a head wiggled, turned, I suppose, and -a big, sharp beak came into view, and my heron who was simply standing -to the very top of his high, waterproof boots in water began to wade -along. - -Then I laughed, and I suppose that broke the spell, but it was enough to -make anyone laugh, for the Florida heron, wading leg deep in the St. -Johns River, has the same self-conscious dignity, the same absurd -rhythmic hesitancy of motion as a wedding procession going up the aisle. -I have seen a great many grooms wade in and I never saw anything a bit -different. - -The high road and high noon and I met in the heart of a pine wood where -all things had forgotten the frost in a midsummer temperature, and -short-horned grasshoppers made merry all about. In the thin treetops was -no motion, not even the quiver of a bird’s wing. The long wood swooned -in the golden haze that seemed impaled and held motionless on a thousand -million spears of palmetto leaf points standing chin high, a motionless -sea of deep green. The tall palmetto is a beautiful tree with the -columnar trunk of a palm. It aspires and has sturdy dignity. The scrub -palmetto crawls on its belly like a snake, its trunk strangely and -horridly like one, though when you observe it closely enough you see -that it roots all along this boa-constrictor trunk, as if it had changed -its mind after all and decided to be an elephantine -thousand-legged-worm. Then as if ashamed of its fallen and misshapen -appearance it rears its head and spreads a great rosette of -long-stalked, stiff green leaves to hide it all. - -You can find no more distinctive Florida scene than this; the endless -procession of rough-barked columnar trunks, topped with sparse limbs and -tufted with needles a foot and more long, and beneath the lake of deep -green, scrub palmetto with a surface infinitely diversified with the -spatter of the split leaves. The three-foot stems of these leaves are so -woody and the leaves themselves are so stiff that to ford the lake is -difficult and your progress through the palmetto is accompanied by a -wooden clatter that is like a parlor imitation of stage thunder. - -Breathing deep the aroma of the pines, resting in the golden warmth and -quiet of the place I saw little of wild life moving. All nature seems to -take a mid-day siesta, even in winter, here. The place seemed to lend -itself to dreams for which all the mystic witchery of the morning had -prepared me. How deep into these I sank I cannot say, but I was aroused -from them by the approach of a beast. - - “The jabberwock with eyes of flame - Came whiffling through the tulgy wood - And burbled as he came.” - -I think it was his burbling that I first noticed, a grumbling undertone -as of something with a deep throat and very large teeth that talks to -itself. Even here within twenty miles of Jacksonville, Florida, is yet a -wilderness, criss-crossed with roads and spattered here and there with -clearings, but yet a wilderness where deer and bear still linger. This -sounded like a very large bear; one with a toothache and a morose -disposition. I noticed for the first time a sort of path that crossed -mine, an enlarged rabbit-run under the palmettos. Perhaps he was coming -down that. I could hear the palmettos clatter in crescendo and the -morose voice come rapidly nearer, and still I sat motionless. It is hard -to believe in bears, until you have met a few. But I sat too long. -Suddenly out of the path burst a black bulk, and I sprang to my feet -with a shout of dismay. A big, black creature with a shambling gait, a -long snout and little fierce eyes, was right upon me. - -But my shout of dismay was nothing to the “woof” of terror and -astonishment the jabberwock let out. He almost turned a somersault and, -ignoring his path, went straight through the palmettos which waved about -him, down the distance, with a noise like an anvil chorus played on many -xylophones. It was really the biggest and fiercest razorback I have yet -met. Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone. When they miss -their fellows they gallop, mumbling and - -[Illustration: “Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone”] - -grumbling till they find them. I do not blame myself for thinking this -the jabberwock, however. Seen from his own level, head on, the razorback -has a weird and ferocious aspect that can out-countenance most of the -wild animals I have met. Incidentally one can give a very good account -of himself in the prize ring with any opponent whatever, from a -rattlesnake up. What this one thought me I do not know. If he is -familiar with jabberwocks perhaps he, too, thought he suddenly saw one. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CHRISTMAS AT ST. AUGUSTINE - - -Whoever has since discovered the North Pole, we know that Santa Claus -was the original settler and, to whatever land he may come, we think of -him as cheering his reindeer on over new fallen snow. Nor was frost to -be denied him here in St. Augustine where many people believe perpetual -summer reigns. The red-nosed morning sun looked forth in some -indignation on fields white with it, palm trees crisp, and broad banana -leaves wilted black under its keen touch. The gentle breeze that drifted -in from the north had ice in its touch and I do not know how the roses -that held up pink petals bravely and tossed their soft, tea scent over -the garden fences stood it without wilting. Most of them are planted -near shelter, which may account for it. But the tea roses are -essentially the ladies of their kind. They seem to have the feminine -trait of exposing pink and white beauty to the inclement winds without -growing goose flesh upon it. They stand brave and unconcerned in an -atmosphere where mere men and vegetables wilt, frostbitten. The day -after Christmas brought a stiff wind from the northwest, a wind that -fainted from its own rage during the night and left us for a few morning -hours a temperature of twenty-six degrees. This is somewhat -disconcerting to muslin-clad migrants. - -Christmas came flying overseas to the quaint old town by way of the long -levels of Anastasia Island, which bars off the real ocean to the -eastward. Here I fancy Santa Claus landing for a moment to re-arrange -his pack before getting down chimney to business, and here he might well -feel at home on South Beach. Nowhere has nature more closely simulated -snowdrifts. The dazzling white sand is as fine grained as any blown snow -of a Canadian winter, and the north wind sent it drifting down leagues -of coast where it piled in hillocks that grow with one shift of wind and -shrink with the next. I had but to shut my eyes and listen to the silky -susurrus of these tiny crystals one upon another to hear the same song -that the New England pastures sing of a bright day in January when the -snow is deep and a zero wind steals from the top of one drift to build -bastions and frost fortifications on another. - -With closed eyes the sibillant song was the fairy tenor to the bass of -the surf which was a memory of the roar of white pines, tossing in the -gale. I had but to open my eyes and see these white, scurrying films of -sandsnow to think myself really once more in Massachusetts. Inland the -pale drifts whelm red cedar and bayberry outposts of the forests that -are as flat-topped and wind-crippled as any shrubs that hold the outer -defenses of zero-bitten, northern hilltops, moated, portcullised, with -barbican and glacis in snow-mounded simulation of fortresses built by -man. Surely nature had hung Christmas decorations on the forefront of -St. Augustine in lavish profusion. I thought at one glance that Santa -Claus himself had arrived on all this make-believe snow landscape and -was resting his reindeer a moment behind the white drifts inland. I -heard stamping hoofs and saw shaggy brown coats that might well be those -of Prancer and Dancer, of Dunder and Blitzen. But a second look showed -long ears instead of caribou antlers, and a band of the curious little -half wild donkeys that roam the island trotted forth. - -Getting back from the roar of the surf, I began to find the Christmas -decorations mingled with the warmer phase of Florida. There the sun -warmed all things in sheltered hollows till it seemed as if the almanac -had repented and Easter was trailing soft garments of spring through the -place to soothe all winter’s ailments. Scrub palmettos lifted their -heads from the sand - -[Illustration: Court of “The Alcazar” at St. Augustine] - -to wave palms, and in meadowy places the St. Andrew’s cross spread -yellow petals beneath holly berries. In December you find corners of -this land in Florida that are most perplexing. Out on the hard beach ran -by twos and threes the semi-palmated plover, which are birds of Labrador -and the Arctic coast, and just beyond them the great, gray pelicans -sailed in military ranks between the combers. Here were birds of the -arctic and birds of the tropic seas passing one another between a wind -of winter and a sun of summer. Ashore it was the same. Hermit thrushes, -born under cool hemlocks in the New Hampshire hills while yet the snow -lingered in the northern gullies, peered beneath the palmettos and -touched wing tips with fluttering mocking birds hatched while the June -sun scorched the temperature up along the nineties. - -At nightfall on this cool Christmas Eve the round moon stood in the -eastern sky and shone as if all the Spanish doubloons and pieces of -eight that sank in wrecked treasure ships in this Spanish main had been -fused to one great, silver orb to make it. The keen wind must have blown -most of the tropic mists out of the sky, so plainly visible on its -surface was the man, his dog, and his bush which Shakespeare was wont to -see there. Thus both Spain and England, both fitfully lords of the soil -on which I stood, renewed their hold on it, for the moon made a broad -pathway of silver light across the Matanzas River to the walls of the -old coquina fort which for two hundred years was all St. Augustine, and -for the matter of that, all Florida, so far as white man’s dominion -went. - -It was easy to fancy Santa Claus pricking his coursers from the old -coquina quarry on the island, along this silver road, bringing Christmas -cheer to the St. Augustine of to-day. In the shadows along either side -of the coruscating pathway it was easy to see other shades, the dark -forms of boats loaded with stone from the quarries, with motley crews -toiling at the oars, sinking beneath the tide with the painful years, -and others coming to take their places; convicts from Spain and Mexico, -political prisoners, Seminoles and slaves, all prodded by the relentless -steel of Spain to the building of the great fort that stands almost -unscarred to-day, an acme of mediæval fort building. All night it stood -in gray dignity, but the moonlight touched it lovingly and drew silver -from the pathway of toil and tipped the bastions with white fire and -drew gleaming edges all along the ramparts till it seemed as if the -haughty inquisitions of Spain, the bluff greed of ancient England, and -even the pagan myth of the good old saint of gifts were but gray -memories out of which glowed a clearer light, that of that star in the -east which the wise men followed. We do not know which star it is, out -of the incomputable number, but every Christmas Eve it swings the blue -arc of the sky and sends its white light down upon the things for which -men have toiled, master and slave alike, and glorifies them. - -Before midnight the northern chill left the place, the wind ceased, and -a sweet-aired calm fell upon all things. The rustics of old England long -ago brought to New England a tale which I love to believe, that at -midnight before Christmas the cattle kneel in adoration in their stalls. -So in this town of strange contrasts, which is so old and so new, it -seemed to me as if at midnight all nature knelt in adoration. Of what -went on within palace or hovel I know little, but without the air -renewed its kindly warmth and from every garden rose upon the air a -gentle incense of flowers. Here poinsettias flaunted red involucres that -were brave with the color of the season and there the dark green of -English ivy fretted the walls with close-set leaves. Chrysanthemums held -up pink and yellow and white blooms to the silver light and sent out the -medicinal smell of their leaves as you brushed by them. - -You could not see the blue of the English violets in their dark green -beds and borders, but the odor of them subtended the scent of the tea -roses and the Marechal Neils climbing high on their trellises lost -their yellow tint and were as white as the light that shone on them. - -Tiny ferns, the southern polypodys, which you shall hardly know from -those of the north by their appearance, seem to have little of the -rock-climbing proclivities of their northern prototypes. These love a -tree. Often you will find the level limbs of live-oaks made into ribbon -borders with them and they nestle in the crevices between the -criss-crossed stubs of palmetto leaves along the trunks whence the -leaves themselves have fallen. Here in St. Augustine they seem to love -the roofs of old houses, garlanding them with a most delicate beauty. If -the northern polypody grew here I should expect to find the crevices -between the stones of the old fort green with it and the bluff old -sergeant custodian would have trouble in keeping it from making a fairy -greensward of all slopes and levels on the parapets. - -The southern polypody barely touches the fort. It seems to demand wood -for its rooting surface and it makes the old-time roofs lovely with its -tiny pinnate fronds. I dare say every moonlit night these soft aërial -gardens entangle the light and are silvered by it, but it seemed as if -on this night of nights the radiance was softer and glowed with a -clearer fire. Over in the new part of the town where wealth has built -huge domes and pinnacled minarets and fretted the walls and - -[Illustration: Cathedral Place, St. Augustine] - -arches of great stone buildings with every cunning device of the -builder’s art, the gentle feet of this home-loving fern refuse to climb -and walls and towers and copings and minarets seemed bare and garish in -all their architectural beauty, by contrast. - -It was by way of such scenes as these under the round moon of midnight -that Christmas day first touched St. Augustine. And yet, for all the -wonder beauty of the town in this white radiance it seems to me the -wonder of all lay that night within the bare walls of a northerly, -long-neglected casemate of the old gray fort. The open court of the -place is not unlike that of an Eastern khan. The casemate is a -high-walled, bare room which opens from it, its barred window letting in -a narrow rectangle of the midday sun. What gentle-souled soldier dwelt -within this room in the days of Spanish domination no one can tell me, -nor what lover of shady English lanes, babbling brooks and cool, mossy -retreats succeeded him with the coming of the English flag to wave its -St. George and St. Andrew’s crosses proudly above the ramparts. Only it -seems as if some lover of ferny woodlands must have dwelt there and -thought long of such places, for out of the rough rock wall itself grows -to-day the finest specimen of Venus’ hair fern I have ever seen, its -cool, translucent, beautifully lobed pinnules dripping from fronds of -rich beauty that form a soft green cradle on the floor and pillow their -pure sweetness against the wall itself. - -It may be that some conscripted Spanish peasant brought with his aching -heart to the far distant American garrison a fertile spore from some -shady glen that he loved in Andalusia, or perhaps the seed ripened in a -Devonshire lane and came thence with the besieging and conquering -English, or yet again it may have been Florida born and carried thither -on some soft wind of winter or in the blanket of an imprisoned Seminole. -Centuries go by and bring a thousand accidents caught in the trailing -garments of the years. I know only that the plant is there, wondrously -beautiful by day, and that as the first hour of Christmas glided over -the old fort the full light of the moon poured in at the barred window -and built its exquisite texture into a mystic cradle veiled in the -velvety purple darkness of the ancient cell. - -Without was the open court flooded with the full radiance of the great -Southern moon, the same that looked down upon the miracle of birth in -Bethlehem more than nineteen hundred years ago. Within was the still -darkness of the manger-like place, and this cradle of a texture such as -no human hands might make, all strangely lighted and glorified by the -beams from high - -[Illustration: “The fort that waits in crumbling beauty the obliterating -hand of the coming centuries”] - -heaven. Not millions in money nor trained architects nor the most -skilled artisans of the day, all of which have been lavished upon the -building of the new St. Augustine, have produced one spot so mystically -beautiful as was at that hour the angle of that dark cell in the -casement of the fort that was once the whole of the old town, the fort -that waits in crumbling beauty, neglected but dignified still, the -obliterating hand of the coming centuries. - -Dawn brought out of the white stillness of the night a cloud from the -southeast, and soon the tepid air of the Gulf of Mexico was spilling -rain upon all things and hushing the barbaric greeting of guns and -firecrackers with which the Southern negro delights to hail Christmas -morn. Then as April had driven December from the sky, so came October -with a westerly wind and golden sunshine that merged in a nightfall -whose sky was of amber with a green gold moon rounding up once more in -it. Over in the west hung a yellow, shining star of evening, and as the -lights flashed out one by one in the great hotels and their careful -shrubbery glowed with fairy lamps, it seemed as if this star shed upon -them some of the kindly light that led Balthazar and his companions of -old, a star hanging in the west, for a sign that the day, now grown old -with us, was dawning with new people in new lands. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -IN A FLORIDA FREEZE - - -In St. Augustine there is a very genial, old colored man who, in spite -of his weatherworn tatters, is a philanthropist and has an eye for good -dressers. His favorite stampede is the sea wall and the open region -about old fort Marion where he watches with wary eye for the tourist. - -“Heah you are, suh,” he says to such, “heah’s yo’ lucky beans. Take a -han’ful suh an’ be lucky all de res’ ob your bawn days. I gives dem to -yuh. I ain’t charge nuffin for dese I ain’t, kase you is de born image -ob my ol’ massah. Yaas you is, suh. Mons’ous fine lookin’ man he, yass -suh. Dem ladies dey jes’ nachully follow my ol’ massa roun’ kase he such -fine man. Hey? Yaas, tank you kindly suh. You sure is like ol’ massah.” - -It is astonishing how many visions of his old master rise in this gray -old man’s sight as tourists pass. Long or short, fat or lean, it makes -no difference to him, so be they are well dressed and have an air of -prosperity. If it is a group of ladies it is the same. They simply, one -and all, are images of his ol’ missus who was the smartest dressed and -handsomest woman in the State. It may be that the people who have small -stores on St. George street and sell far less valuable things than lucky -beans to good-looking tourists make more money, though I doubt it. Dimes -come rapidly to the old chap, and though with many rents he has none to -pay. - -To-day is January of a new year, and all Florida is once more steeped in -golden sunshine. Soft airs out of Eden, or some place just as good, -breathe over the landscape, and the genial warmth is that of a fine, -June day at home. But so far I have failed to hear the familiar -salutation of the old bean man. I fancy he is not yet thawed out. I hope -no harm has come to him, for I have bought my beans and I like to stand -smiling by and see the other fellows get theirs. Perhaps he is still a -little distrustful, for this is the first comfortable day since -Christmas, and that was something of an oasis in a raw desert of chill. -There had been several frosty mornings before that, somewhat to the -disturbance of the purveyors to tourists, though they had said, -grudgingly, “Oh, well, we do have a light frost some winters.” - -The morning after Christmas saw the thermometer at twenty-six, and the -purveyors of summer, unlimited, in time of winter, were properly -horrified. “Oh, but we assure you that this is quite extraordinary,” -they vociferated. “The weather is always warm in Florida.” - -The morning after that the wind came roaring down from the northwest, -full of needles. The temperature was below freezing and it kept steadily -going lower. The water front, steeped in the midday sun and sheltered -from the keen wind, was the warmest place in town, and there my old -colored man lingered, shivering beneath an old overcoat that, I trow, -belonged to that grand, old master whom we all resemble. Beneath it he -still clung to his lucky beans, but he found small comfort in the dimes -that he took in from overcoated and shivering tourists. - -“Uncle,” I asked, “what makes it so cold?” - -“Huh,” he replied, and his usually beaming, shiny black face was ashy -gray and twisted into a tragic discontent with the chill, “Hit’s dese -Nordern people. We ain’t had nothin’ like dis ontwel dey began to come -down here, so much. Pears like dey brought it in dere cloes.” - -I fancy that is as good an explanation of the freeze as any, though if -the Northern people brought it thus they did it against their will. Out -on the water front the first severe morning I found an old man from -Missouri. When they had told him about the perpetual summer that reigns -in Florida during the winter time he had said, “show me,” and started -for the peninsular State with his big overcoat under his arm. Wrapped to -the eyes in his big coat he sat, this morning that the thermometer -registered at only seventeen above in St. Augustine, on a bench that -faced the morning sun. I thought he must be warm, for his face was -flushed, but it was only the warmth of his indignation. - -“They told me to leave my overcoat at home,” he said, “but I wouldn’t do -that. But I did leave my sweater, and now look at me! Had to go out this -morning and buy a new one. There’s no heat in the house I’m living in -and I had to come out here and sit in the sun like a sage hen, and durn -me if I’m warm now. Next time I take an excursion in winter, young man, -I’ll go North. I know a stove up in Chicago that I’ll bet you is red-hot -this minute, and I wish I was sitting side of it, durned if I don’t.” - -The plaint of this man from Missouri is a song of different words, -perhaps, but it is the same tune which all Northern people sing who -happen to hit a Southern winter during one of the freezing spells which -are so likely to reach the northern third of Florida. The most severe of -these kill the orange trees and are felt to the very southern limits of -the peninsula. Fortunately, there are periods of several years’ duration -in which these do not touch the State. This one is exceptional enough -both in severity and duration, to make the Northern visitor, who comes -to escape that sort of thing, unhappy, severe enough in some cases to -make him unpleasantly ill from colds contracted in draughty houses, -often unheated. At home we install elaborate apparatus for taking care -of a temperature that gets below fifty degrees. Down here they scorn -such a thing. Yet sections far enough advanced in civilization to have -water pipes and plumbing arrangements awoke to find them frozen all over -northern Florida the other morning. - -Now that my own memory, somewhat iced up by these alleged unprecedented -conditions, is thawed out, the week seems quite grotesquely impossible. -It is like asking me to tell how, during a week in midsummer, we had icy -weather and mornings on which the temperature was only seventeen above, -Fahrenheit. But that is just what happened, and the only thing to prove -it as you walk about town now is the black wreckage of all tender -herbage that a little over a week ago flourished so greenly and put -forth sweet-scented flowers. There is visible from my window the roof of -one of the old-time houses on quaint old St. George street. On this -grew, before the freeze, tiny, beautiful clumps of the Southern polypody -fern. These are represented now by crumpled remnants of gray leaves -from which the life has been frozen--and it takes a good deal to kill a -polypody. The gardens in the town were full of vivid-colored foliage -plants, coleus and the like, handsome poinsettias graced many places and -climbing vines scattered white and scarlet bloom. All these are dead, -killed to the ground, and with them went the taller and more picturesque -shrubs. The palmettos stood it, though their leaves have since curled a -bit, showing that the cold penetrated their tough fiber. - -The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana trees a light -brown like that of elm leaves after they fall in the autumn. The two -nights at seventeen killed the plants to the ground, and not even the -thick coats that I saw hung over green bunches of bananas here and there -sufficed to keep the fruit from freezing, any more than similar -protection helped the flower beds any; the cold was too severe to be -staved off in that way. I think the most striking sight was a big field -of sugar cane out at Hastings. This had been green and luxuriant, though -ripe for the knife, the grinding having begun in many sections. After -the second morning of severe cold this field was all of a lovely soft, -tan brown, the exact color of the shooks in a Northern cornfield where -they are allowed to stand out in the field until this time of year. The -Southern cornstalks still standing in the field do not take that color, -nor are they so massed. The whole looked as striking and out of place as -the weather in which I saw it. In this same town of Hastings is a big -orange grove from which the fruit had been but half picked, the rest -hanging, waiting for the holiday rush to be over, the market cleaned up, -and the prices better. There the orange leaves were curled and crisp -with the frost and a thousand boxes or more of splendid, golden fruit -was still hanging, yellow, beautiful in the chill sun--and solid blocks -of ice, from kumquats which are as big as one’s thumb to grapefruit -almost as big as one’s head. - -There is an alligator friend of mine out by the city gates for whose -safety on that first cold morning I was much concerned. For free -alligators one need have but little worry. Safe under water in the warm -corners of the swamps they were sleepy and happy and would not come out -till the sun called them with sufficient vigor to assure them a warm -day. Nor need I worry much for the city alligator who is put into the -little pond beneath a fountain in the plaza on the first of January, to -be removed no doubt when the tourists go. The steady outflow of warm -artesian water would make him comfortable. The East Coast railroad -people have two that they put into similar tanks in their station -grounds. These, too, seem to be a part of the decoration in honor - -[Illustration: “The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana -trees a light brown”] - -of the tourists. So, not to be outdone in friendly welcome, a -photographer friend of mine has been keeping “George” in a pen in a -shallow, cement tank on his grounds down by the city gate. - -This photographer is an enterprising chap; indeed, the photographers of -the city gates neighborhood are all enterprising. If you get by them -without having your picture taken in many poses it is not their fault. -They know the weakness of vain, human nature almost as well as does the -ancient bean man. One has a jungle, a wild and most realistic wilderness -in which you may be pictured in the very den of alligators, sitting on -pa, fondling ma, and holding the babies on your knee. Who would not send -one of these home to the shivering sufferers in the frozen North? -Another will take your likeness sitting at a tiny table with a most -gorgeously-gowned young lady, sipping bubbles from a tall glass. Few gay -sports can resist sending that up to jealous admirers who have doubted -that they would be received in Southern society. To be sure, the young -lady is of pasteboard, but how are the neighbors to know that? You can -have your picture taken in the ox cart, just coming in through the -ancient city gates, and a real live ox is kept for the purpose--that is, -he was alive until he got pneumonia standing out there, waiting for -customers in the freeze. - -Of all these I think the owner of “George” does it best. He takes your -picture in a real orange grove, picking oranges. He is the fortunate -possessor of five trees, and some of the five have real oranges growing -on them--a few. But who wants to be picking oranges in a skimpy grove? -The owner of “George” fixed that. He wired golden fruit and leafy twigs -on his trees by the bushel and then, because nature has made it -difficult to photograph oranges in their native color, he whitewashed -the fruit. As a result you may send home from the ancient Spanish city a -picture of yourself, supremely happy, standing beneath trees loaded with -real fruit, picking them as nonchalantly as if it was your constant -occupation. No wonder people come to St. Augustine by thousands each -winter and go away charmed with the place. - -But about “George.” The first morning that the thermometer stood at -seventeen I went out early, wearing a sweater and a big overcoat, -besides one’s usual garments, and still shivering, so penetrating is -this Southern cold. At the gates I found the owner of “George” inside -the pen, chopping vigorously. He was removing an ice blanket from the -top of the shallow tank in which the alligator was securely frozen. This -ice blanket had kept the ’gator secure in a temperature above -thirty-two, whereas he would have been frozen stiff if he had not had -the wit to get under water. “George” was lethargic. Even when prodded -severely to see if he was really alive, he moved but slowly and -positively refused to blow off steam with that high-pressure hiss which -is the alligator’s chief warning note. But he came through it unharmed. -Still, he was fortunate in his tank. There were many Northern people in -quaint old St. Augustine that night who had no such reliable heater. - -For all the blackened gardens, the icicled oranges and the banana trees -cut down in their prime, the whitened sugar cane and the ice-blanketed -alligators, I think the really extraordinary sight of that first morning -of severe cold was a fountain in the plaza. This shoots a few tiny -streams into the air and they fall upon greensward beneath it. The -brisk, northwest wind that blew all that cold night blew the thin stream -askew, and the morning sun showed a circle of ice hummocks beneath this -fountain, such hummocks as suggested the bad roads which Arctic -explorers negotiate, and a pyramid of icicles that was built up from the -ground into the urn of the fountain and above that into a sort of -statuette of ice on which the artesian stream sprinkled still. The sun -of Florida, even in the dead of winter, is a hot one, but the pyramid of -icicles stood unmoved during the greater part of that forenoon, indeed -they would have been there all day and the temperature of the night -which followed would have augmented them, only that people began to take -them away for souvenirs. - -Now the point of this story is not that the climate of Florida is not -beautiful during the winter. I know that it is, most of the time. But to -say that Florida is a land of perpetual warmth is not to tell the truth. -In northern Florida the winters often show days when the morning -temperature is below freezing. A temperature which freezes the oranges -is likely to come any winter, and though such cold lasts but a few days -at the most, it is very trying to people dressed for July. Florida women -buy furs for the winter, and wear them, too. Remember that if you are -coming down for even a short stay. This freezing weather comes oftenest -in late December or early January, but it may come as late as early -March. Remember that and wear the overcoat down, also put the sweater in -the trunk, else you may be like my friend from Missouri and vow to take -your next winter vacation beside a Chicago red-hot stove. Florida is -indeed a land of perpetual summer, with certain exceptions that prove -the rule. One of these certainly came, this year, between Christmas and -New Year’s. - -[Illustration: The banana tree in bloom] - - - - -CHAPTER X - -DOWN THE INDIAN RIVER - - -The bobolinks, bound for South America and perpetual summer, go by a -route which most birds, strange to say, shun. They pass down through -Florida and over the Caribbean Sea, touching at Cuba, Jamaica and -Yucatan. Why this is not the popular route with all birds it is -difficult to say. It offers the most land surface for food and the -shortest sea flights on the way, being in its comfort and elegance a -sort of Pullman train route which the Florida East Coast pleasure -seekers imitate. Yet there seem to be only about ten of the migrating -birds which follow it. The yellow-billed cuckoo is one of these, and -last night I heard him spring his musical rain-call in the guava bushes -while the wind in the palm trees overhead beat a zylophonic -accompaniment. It is now mid-January, and I am a little in doubt whether -this cuckoo has paused on his southward way and winter is yet to come, -or whether he is one of the first of the spring migrants to turn his -flight northward, so gently does one summer fade into the next as one -gets well down the Florida peninsula on “the bobolink route.” The bank -swallows are of the ten that take up this route, and the air is often -full of their whirling flocks. - -Here at White City we are about two-thirds the way down the Florida -peninsula, about east of the northern end of Lake Okeechobee, which sits -at the northern end of the Everglades. The southeast trade winds, -blowing across the Gulf Stream and over the Bahamas, bringing fresh sea -odors to Florida, here pass a long line of the islands which bar off the -Indian River from the ocean. Then they cross the river, and top another -wave of the sea of billowy sand. The Indian River is the first hollow -between these long north and south extending billows. Over the ridge to -westward you come to a shallow lagoon in which all kinds of marsh life -flourish, from alligators to the lovely yellow blooms of _Utricularia -inflata_ and the heart-shaped leaves of _Limnanthemum lacunosum_, both -these last Northern friends whom it is cheery to find so far south. - -Here, rather more than two hundred miles south of St. Augustine, north -and south meet and merge most curiously and at this time of year one has -reminders of winter or of summer according to the direction of the wind. -Ten days ago this came out of the north and froze oranges - -[Illustration: “The southeast trade-winds here pass a long line of the -islands which bar off the Indian River from the ocean”] - -on the trees well down into the middle of the State. Here the cold was -not severe enough to do that, but the cocoanut palms over on the Indian -River bore frosted cocoanuts one morning and all tender vegetables such -as beans, eggplants and tomatoes were killed outright. The result gives -the eye some key to those trees and shrubs which are truly tropical and -have wandered north over their really proper boundary line, and those -which hold northern pith and do not mind some cold weather. The oranges -have not minded the temperature of twenty-six degrees which came to -them. The yellow fruit hangs like golden blobs of sunshine all about. -The green leaves are untouched, even those of the little thumbling -kumquats which are the least of oranges. - -Lemons as well, though they are far tenderer than the oranges, hold up -their pointed ovals in the midst of green leaves. But the guavas were -badly nipped and their foliage everywhere is brown, a color something -like the soft tans in their sycamore-like trunks. Though the guava leaf -is like that of a chestnut, its trunk makes one think it a young -sycamore. By rights its fruit should be a button or a bur, according to -Northern landmarks. As a matter of fact it begins an orange blossom, -most spicily sweet scented, grows a green apple to a lemon-looking -maturity, and its seeded pulp is peach-like, and spiced with a faint -off-color flavor which seems but to add to its delectability. In -Northern minds there is well rooted a belief that the orange tree holds -ripe fruit, green fruit and new blooms at the same time. This is hardly -borne out by the facts. The orange is a cropper, just as the apple is, -and just now the trees hold no color save that of the ripe fruit, no -odor but that of its spicy, oily rind. The guavas, however, have -everything in motion from bloom to ripe fruit. - -Cocoanut palms and royal palms are both to be found in south Florida, -though neither is indigenous, both having been planted by accident or -design. The palmetto is on the other hand native to the State. In the -northern third of the State, however, it never seems to me to feel at -home. Palmettos there are set out along fine walks and in yards and -formal gardens where for the most part they stand primly and seem a bit -self-conscious. Rarely there in my woodland walks, either in swamp or -upland, did I find the cabbage palmetto, which is the only tall growing -kind, wild. As you come south you begin to find along in the Palatka -neighborhood sudden accesses of tropical picturesqueness in the swampy -lands. The jungle grows stateliness and becomes peopled with -possibilities of all romance, a condition less common to the lonely, -flat woods and the impenetrable tangle of jasmine and greenbrier and -gray moss of the swamps in the northern counties of the State. - -All this I think due to the presence all about you of the tall -palmettos. There is an interminable regularity about the pines. From -Palatka south, the palmettos stray in groups all about the landscape, -never standing prim and solemn as they do about Jacksonville and St. -Augustine. Here they seem to prance in toward town like plumed Seminole -chieftains of the early days. They lean together in groups and make the -landscape cozy and beautiful, while yet it loses nothing of dignity. -There is something of the feather duster model about the palmetto, but -it suggests only dignity and beauty for all that. Along the banks of -streams they lean plumed heads far over the water and make the muddiest -“branch” a place of enchantment thereby. There is a graciousness about -the simple act that makes you take off your hat and say “thank you” in -all reverence. Of all the trees of the South the palmetto has most -personality and you learn to love it far beyond the others. - -I think it is the presence all about of the picturesque and sociable -palmettos that softens the aspect of the flat lands as you go back from -the Indian River in this latitude, and makes the barrens lovable and -kindly. Yet other things I am sure contribute. The cold snap, which may -have been the end of the tiny winter that comes even to this far -Southern clime seems to have sent many Northern birds awing once more. -All about flock the robins in countless numbers, their winter plumage -seeming just a little duller than it will be when they hasten North in -April. I have not heard one of them sing, but the air is full of -unmistakable robin cries and they run over grassy spots with the same -self-confident grace. A favorite food with them seems to be the -gallberries which exactly resemble low-bush black huckleberries and grow -in vast profusion all over the ground through the flat woods. These are -most bitter and nauseous to my taste, in fact I know of only one thing -worse and that is the buckthorn berry which is plentiful all the early -winter at home and of which also the wintering robins seem very fond. -Blue birds are plentiful. - -The crow blackbirds that are wintering here seem to be, if anything, -just a little more familiar and fearless than those which nest yearly in -the Boston Public Gardens. They may very well be the same birds, though. -At Fort Pierce I saw them walking gravely about the yards and in the -public streets, picking up food with the pigeons and hardly getting out -of the way of the slow-moving wagons. At White City they fly up from -the road at my feet and barely wait for me to go by before they are back -again. With them I find redwing blackbirds, the males in full epaulette, -almost as fearless as their larger brethren. There is another flock of -black birds, whose presence I hailed with delight, making the woods -vocal over on the shores of the St. Lucie River. That is a dozen or so -of unmistakable black crows, _Corvus americana_; not the big-billed, -big-footed Florida representative of the race whom I have seen -occasionally sneaking silently off among the pine tops; not the -cracked-voiced fish crows with their childish hilarity; but good old -Northern crows, making the woods ring with their full-throated haw, haw, -haws. These sounded good to me. I think the cold snap must have sent -them down a little below their usual parallel, for they are the first I -have seen in over two months spent in the Florida woodlands. - -The garden in which the house is embowered is full of myrtle warblers in -full winter plumage. These flit from one rose bush full of bloom to -another, then in among oleander and hibiscus blossoms and the scarlet -clusters of the begonia. Here again is a touch of Northern winter that -has come to the land of flowers. Often of a winter’s day in -Massachusetts have I seen myrtle warblers lingering among the bayberry -bushes, feeding on the waxy berries. - -There is far more brown in the landscape than is wont to meet the eye -and this tells the tale, not only of a temperature that has been below -freezing, but just what plants are on the northern edge of their limit, -just as the yellow-rump warblers are on the southern edge of theirs. The -brown guava leaves whisper the story; the banana plants, killed to the -stalk, shout it aloud. So do the fields of pineapples. This is a country -of pineapple plantations. They cover that ridge next the Indian River, -clothing it in prickly green lances from the river banks to the savanna -behind it, for miles on miles, running north and south. In places these -are under sheds, acres in extent. In others the wide lagoon of water on -the west protected them and they are but little harmed. In others the -full blight of the cold has worked in them and their green lances have -turned a sickly, straw yellow. On such fields the crop for this year is -ruined, and many acres of newly set young plants are killed to the root. -Thus does winter set his mark occasionally even on this semi-tropic -land. - -But if it has been winter, I am quite convinced that it is now spring. I -have surprised a suspicious tone of young green along the river edge, -such a color as in Massachusetts I would know meant mid-April. It is the -tender green of young willow leaves just opening out of gray - -[Illustration: “This is a country of pineapple plantations”] - -buds, all yellowed with the pollen from drooping catkins. The swamp -willows that had lost their leaves are beginning to put them out again. -So on oak trees I find the straggly catkins hanging in tassels where the -limbs are gray with new leaf buds that are pushing off last year’s -leaves. And still the blue jays are searching among these catkins for -acorns of last year, not altogether unsuccessfully, so close does spring -tread on the heels of the old year and its fruits. All about in the -fields I hear a springlike twittering among the myriad birds, a -preliminary tuning of instruments. I hear the friendly “cochituate” of a -goldfinch as he scallops his way along the sky. The Florida blue jays, -even noisier than our Northern ones and vastly more familiar, clang and -scream all about and red birds whistle musically. Through all this I -hear another note, or rather a succession of notes, that make me smile. -I have been stalking this puzzling, strange song, if one can call it -that, for a day or two, as opportunity offered, and only this morning -made sure. After all, it was only the crow blackbird trying to sing a -spring song. As a song it is hardly a success. It begins with a shrill, -hardly musical, call note, long repeated. Then the bird essays something -like the trill of a canary, though not very much like it in result. Then -he gives a little deprecatory chirp as if he were as much surprised as -I am at the result of all this, almost tumbles off his perch, recovers, -and flies over to another tree to begin the performance all over again. -The whole is as grotesquely awkward and humorously meeching as the -motions of the crow blackbird usually are. - -Not only in bird voices, in willow and oak catkins, are these signs of -spring. The ground underfoot is beginning to teem with them. Under pines -it is starred with tiny, white blossoms while the ditch bottoms and the -moister places everywhere are purple and white. Most springlike of all -is the violet among the wild grasses in the flat woods. From its tiny, -white flowers with their purplish veining I took it at first glance to -be _Viola blanda_, our sweet, white violet of early May in all meadowy -places. A closer examination, however, showed it to have beardless -petals and instead of the round, heart-shaped leaves of our Northern -variety lanceolate ones, tapering into long petioles. Therefore it is -_Viola lanceolata_. But except for these minor differences it is the -same flower, as delicately beautiful and enticing as when it grows -fifteen hundred miles nearer the pole. Yet if one thinks a New England -spring is at hand he has but to look up. On bare limbs in all swampy -places, hang the solemn beards of Tillandsia, the Spanish moss, while on -others grow grotesque pineapple-like plants that are indeed of the -pineapple family though they bear no pineapples. Instead they shoot -upward a scarlet, gladiolus-like spike from which appear long tubes of -blue petals, holding out yellow anthers. The whole looks as if some -vivid, tropic bird had lighted on this pineapple-top and was poising -there a moment before farther flight. Underneath springs the rank growth -of Florida’s largest fern, the _Achrosticum aureum_. Its fronds rise as -high as my head and spread like a trunkless palm in a circle sometimes -ten feet in diameter. - -Out of all this confusion of Northern and Southern spring signs, rises -always one clear note, that of the southeast trade wind in the palm -trees. Rarely is it absent from the ear. It brings fresh, sea-born -smells of perpetual spring to the nostrils, sometimes weary of the too -rich perfume of spicy pines and odorous gardens, and its rustle sings -you to sleep all night long with the song of the Southern sea. So as the -palmetto grows dearest to the eye of all these Southern trees, it -becomes also dearest to the ear. It is the harp on which this loneliest, -yet most alluring of all Southern tunes is soothingly played. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -SPRING IN THE SAVANNAS - - -Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east of Lake -Okeechobee, and autumn died of it. Autumn was lucky thus to be raptured -out of existence, for he was but a weakling, lingering along inertly, -showing little of that brown tan in which, farther north, he glories. In -all the woodland hardly a fallen leaf rustled under his footstep and on -the open savanna only the dull olive wild grasses paid homage to him. On -the day he died I thought I saw tribute to him in the red of a swamp -maple’s passing leaves, but I was wrong. It was the blush of spring -blossoms instead, so little does the world of the twenty-seventh -parallel care for autumn, so potent is the aura of spring as the lusty -hussy sweeps in on the wings of the southeast trades. I suspect spring -of being born on the tropic edge of the Sargasso Sea whence these winds -blow, mothered by the cool brine of its vast depths, fathered by the -most vivid sun and bringing in her amorous heart the alchemic vigor of -both, whereby she - -[Illustration: “Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east -of Lake Okeechobee”] - -transmutes all things into golden bloom. The long surges of this sea -following her, leap in adoration and desire. A dozen miles inland from -the Atlantic I yet hear the roar of their plunge on the beach, a roar -softened and made into a sleepy lullaby, an undertone droning in -soothing cadences when the breeze is hushed for a moment. They may not -follow her farther, these devoted waves, but they send the cooling scent -of the brine far beyond the sound of their voices, sometimes to the very -heart of the peninsula. - -Yet it is not altogether the scent of the brine which gives the amorous -softness to the winds that brought spring, yesterday. The garments of -the goddess, trailing over the Bahamas, have caught the scent of all -wild flowers in their folds and there wooed and welded them into a fond -sweetness which no man may describe yet by which all must know when -spring comes, whether in the Everglades or the New England pastures. On -nights when the wind blew gently I have caught whiffs of these odors of -spring before, breaths to make one fill the lungs to their very depths -in long-drawn inspirations, to reach one’s arms towards the stars in -sudden joy of yearning, but now the air of day as well as night is full -of it. - -The savannas are the pine barrens of the northern part of the State, -made, somehow, more open-hearted, lovable and kindly instead of lonely -and aloof. The pines are here still, but they no longer grow in -close-set ranks that shut off the view in the near distance with a -wooden wall of brown trunks. Instead they grow far apart and the glance -trots merrily along for miles among their trunks before it finds its way -barred. There are enough of the long-leaved variety to give stateliness -to the view, but in the main the pine of the savannas is a -shorter-leaved, less straight and dignified tree, smaller, though a -good-sized tree, and one that is enough like our Northern pitch pine to -be a friend at sight. These and the palmettos that sway in picturesque -groups along on their way, no one knows whither, are all the trees one -finds for miles on miles. - -It is rather odd, this matter of the palmettos being on their way. It is -not so with the pines. They stand. But the palmettos stroll on. I do not -know what gives them this semblance of groups in motion, but they surely -have it. I fancy it is their erect trunks which are never quite erect. -They seem to lean forward just poised for a step. Under foot is the -scrub palmetto, brown grasses that fatten the range cattle, and the -gallberry bushes now black with fruit. At first glance this seems all -and you have to live with the savannas for a little before they give up -more. At rare intervals you may find a tiny streamlet that in -flood-time has dug its course down through the sand to a hard bottom -where its clear water slips gently along. This will be bordered by -myrtles a dozen feet tall, making a wall of foliage that you may see a -mile ahead of you barring your way beneath the pines. But this is only -an incident and does not affect the general tenor of the landscape. - -But, though streams are rare, there is water in abundance in the -saucer-like pools which make the savanna so lovable. Just when your way -is becoming weary and the place the abode of monotony and loneliness, -one of them bars your path and fills you with sudden admiration of its -wild beauty. You may count them, little and big, by the score sometimes -within a mile, you may find a mile without one, or you may find a single -pool which takes up the mile. However long your walk in the level plain, -it can never be lonely because of the comradeship of these. Here is one -that is rimmed with prim, green rushes, standing close-set and bristly -pointed as if guarding the clear, unvexed surface. Here is another so -shallow that the wild grasses grow up through the water all about, -spiring in tender points that are olive brown with the touch of autumn. -Yesterday in such pools olive brown was the only color above the water -which reflected the blue of the sky. To-day, under the touch of this -amorous spring that swooped down upon them, these somber spires stand -guard over prickings of tender green that sprang up in a night to meet -the call of the passing goddess. - -Here is another pool, deeper, this one, whose borders are halberded with -the leaves of the pickerel weed, already flying blue banners here and -there, starred with the white of the water plantain. In spots in these -clear, deeper pools the tape grass stripes the surface and the crow -blackbirds ride dry-footed on the round, floating leaves of the yellow -pond lily. Many of the smaller pools are fairer yet, their clear, black -water all rich with gold ornaments, curiously and beautifully carved and -shining yellow in the sunlight which seems tangled in embossings and -fret work. Not till I wade knee deep into the middle may I find out -whence comes this curious and delightful ornamentation. After all, it is -but the tangled blooms of _Utricularia vulgaris_, riding free and -floating on the bladder-bearing whorl of leaves till gentle winds push -them close and the spurred, bilabiate flowers tangle golden heads in -nugget-like masses. Nowhere in the world, I fancy, can you find -utricularias so large flowered and massed in such profusion as in the -little, quiet pools that star the savannas from the Indian River -westward to the northernmost beginnings of the Everglades. - -The pools do not have a monopoly of the beautiful yellow blooms of the -utricularia. Along one tiny path or another which I follow along level -miles, made by the range cattle and kept open as highways for all the -wild creatures of the place, tiny motes of richest sunshine dance aside -for my passing feet. Scarce larger than a pinhead are these blooms of -_Utricularia subulata_, most elflike blooms, that seem to have no -connection with earth. If you try to pluck them they shake all over with -mirth which they cannot contain at your clumsiness. Leaves they have -none, and the stem which bears them up is of such a neutral tint and of -such gossamer fineness that it is almost impossible to see it. And that -is all there is to it; a stem like a spider’s thread, springing from -moist sand or mud in the path, bearing on its invisible support this -tiny scale of sunshine, making the most elusive and fairylike plant that -one might find on a continent. In Northern swamps and on the borders of -still lakes the utricularias have given me pleasure, but never have they -supplied such an amazement of delight as they spread before my feet in -these wild savannas of southern Florida. - -Along with the path-haunting utricularias is another tiny plant whose -Northern prototype is familiar. This is the sundew. I take the one that -carpets portions of these moist, wild ways with rich red to be the -_Drosera brevifolia_ from its shorter, wedge-shaped leaves. The nap of -fine glands that clothes these holds diamond glints of infinitesimal -dewdrops that flash finely in the sun and catch my attention and hold -it, even as they do the tiny insects for whom the snare is spread. In -favored locations these round mats of the sundew half carpet the -gray-black soil along the path edges with a diamond-frosted, cerise -velvet and should pleasantly pad the footfall of all small, wild -creatures that pass that way. - -The sundew grows only on the moist places. In the dryer spots, now that -spring has come wooing with warmth and with showers, troops of -sunbonneted beauties show up, these seeming to have sprung magically -forth in a night. It may be that there were golden yellow sunbonnets -nodding coquettishly in the wind all along the savannas ten days ago. I -can only say that I tramped them back and forth and did not see any. It -may be that the smaller, more modest blue sunbonnets were there too. I -can only say that I did not see them. There is a freemasonry of the wild -that keeps secrets from you till you are found worthy. Hence to know a -wood or a plain you must visit it often. Often in coming back along a -path which I have scanned in going I find flowers, nodding by the very -path brim, that I did not see in going out. It is not to be believed -that these opened in the interval; rather we must - -[Illustration: “All must know when spring comes, whether in the -Everglades or the New England pastures”] - -think that like children they lose their fear of strangers after a -little. - -So with these butterwort girls that wear the yellow and blue sunbonnets. -I fancy there were a few of them along the path on my first day, but -they did not care to be seen. Now they have taken heart at the boldness -with which spring scatters love tokens all about and are trooping forth -on the level sands. _Pinguicula pumila_ I actually found first, though -she is the more modest. Her blue bonnet is smaller and she herself is -shorter of stature, nestling down among the wild grasses in a snugly -confiding way which makes them love her. They cling close and it is -difficult to pluck _Pinguicula pumila_ without getting a half handful of -defending grass stems with her. - -_Pinguicula lutea_ is a bolder creature. In her yellow sunbonnet she is -a flaunting blonde and the gold of her flaring ribbons is visible far -under pine and palm. When the full warmth of the sun is on the savannas -she flips back the rim of this big, yellow bonnet till it flares in -salver form and shows her buxom face and the gold of her hair to all who -will look. I do not think it possible that _Pinguicula lutea_ let me go -down the path on the very first day without noticing her and I am -therefore confident that her season begins here in mid-January. She and -her shyer sister have given a sudden joy to the wide spaces that was -not there before and I welcome them as near relatives of the -utricularias. - -Over them all on the day that spring came, over the sandy levels, the -round-eyed, flower-bedecked pools, rang the tinkling, joyous songs of I -do not know how many million meadow larks. A day or two before I had -seen but a scattering one or two and not one had sung for me. On that -day they appeared everywhere, not in flocks like the robins and -blackbirds, but singly and by twos and threes well distributed over all -the landscape. They sing from lowly stations, a short, dead stub in the -lonely reaches, a fence post near the farm, or the low ridgepole of the -farmer’s shack. Nothing could be more springlike than their music and -they are the first Northern birds that I have found singing freely so -far South. The robins and the redwings are songless, the bluebird carols -shyly as he flies but so gently that he is rarely heard. The crow -blackbird works hard but it is hardly a song that he produces, and so -the mellow tinkle of these myriads of meadow larks is a delight to the -Northern ear. - -It is a joy also to see one of them after his song flutter forth from -his perch, spread his wings in mid-flight and sail sweetly down, -lighting in among the wild grasses as if he loved them. The meadow -lark’s breast wears a rich yellow that pretty nearly matches that of -the sunbonnet of Miss Pinguicula Lutea. I am wondering if there is -anything in it. That might account for her persistent strolling along -the sunny reaches of the interminable savannas. It might account for his -melodious outbursts from low observation points and the quivering set of -his wings as he soars down into the grass at her side. This spring that -came sailing up over the Bahamas brought many a yearning along with the -tropic odors in her train. - -As out of the lark-filled air the spring has brought melodies, so out of -the yellow-flecked pools she has brought two sounds which are in vocal -adoration of her. One is a queer little rap of a sound that is like the -hitting of dry sticks together in a rub-a-dub-dub. If fairy frogs march -the borders of the pools to drumbeat, this is the drumbeat. - -The other is a frog sound, too, the love call of the tree frog. The -hyla’s voice with us, North, is the first sure call of spring. When we -hear that we know that the ice is gone from the marshes and the tiny -fellows have come out of their winter’s sleep and are down in the open -water, piping, Panlike, their love songs among the reeds. Neither -amorous scent of stephanotis bloom borne from islands of the Southern -seas on the soft air, nor amorous tinkle of lark love songs could so -mark to my Northern trained ear the presence of spring. There is no -chorus as yet; just an occasional shrill peeping, such as I have heard -in April out of the moist ruck of last year’s grasses in a cold meadow, -while yet there is a touch of frost in the air and the low sun scarcely -gives color in his slanting beams. Here it comes in warmth as of June -out of pools where bewildered flowers bloom the year round, not knowing -of a certainty where one summer ends and another begins. Yet the sound -and its meaning are unmistakable, the final evidence whereby I know that -spring came to the savannas yesterday. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -SEVEN THOUSAND PELICANS - - - “Plumpskin, buffskin, pelican, gee! - We think no bird so happy as we. - Plumpskin, buffskin, pelican jill! - We thought so then and we think so still.” - -So runs an ancient and foolish ditty. There is something about it which -makes one think of pelicans as doing a little dance and thus happily -singing, wing in wing, so to speak. Observing the pelicans that meet the -steamers at Jacksonville and some others later in captivity, I had -thought them of a grave and reverend dignity which belied the ditty and -its suggestions. Now I know better. It is a bachelor pelican that first -gave me an inkling of “how happy the life of a bird must be.” He has no -home, this bachelor pelican, just a habitat which is a tiny cove in the -long island which bars the Indian River from the sea five or six miles -below Fort Pierce. So deep does this cove dent the island that the -roaring surf of the east side is but a stone throw from its tip, yet the -wind which blows almost always from the sea leaves its surface -unruffled. Here my bachelor pelican lives to sail and soar and cut -capers all day long in a snug harbor which is untenanted save by a -winter fisherman’s houseboat. - -No more than he minded this houseboat did he seem to mind me as I -watched his antics. At times he seemed severe and dignified enough. That -was when he sat erect and motionless on the surface, his noble, white -head and reverend beard of a bill having all the repose of a prophet. -But that did not last long with him. With a shrug the dignity vanished -and his whole attitude was positively humorous. The change would come -suddenly, a sort of wink of the whole body. Nor was this for me. He just -seemed to wink to himself and say, “Humph, but wasn’t that a solemn -pose!” It is singular how dignity can become grotesque humor with a -shrug, with this bachelor pelican. After his shrug began a little -whirling motion as he sat on the water, spinning softly to the right and -left, ogling the surface as if for fish. Then suddenly he sprang into -the air. The pelican has hardly any tail. His huge beak ludicrously -overweights him forward. By all laws of physics he ought to tumble head -first into the waves every time he springs from them. Instead, his -seven-foot spread of wings catches the air with vigorous grace and he is -absolute master of the art of flight. So my bachelor friend held himself -on level wings, then of a sudden pitched downward and drove that huge, -misshapen beak into the water, about half of the bird going with it. I -know by the way he smacked his mandibles that he took in a good-sized -fish, probably a mullet, while beneath the surface. - -The general color of this bird was a slaty brown, except for his head -and whole neck, which was white, not showing even a tinge of any other -color. Crossing the narrow strip of island and looking forth upon the -sea I saw other pelicans flying in slant-lined flocks just within the -breakers. These pelicans wasted no time in humorous antics. They flew in -business-like fashion, skimming so low in the hollows of the waves that -they sometimes disappeared. They took fish on the dive much as my -bachelor friend had; but, whereas he seemed to do it with a schottische -movement, there was no antic dance in their motions. They were in dead -earnest. They were marked differently from my young friend, too, for -these sea hunters were in full breeding plumage, their hind heads and -necks being a rich, seal brown. They were hunting menhaden more than a -score of miles from the young, being brooded in the grass nests in the -big rookery on Pelican Island, and they had no time for humorous antics. - -There is no accounting for what birds do. It is the custom, almost -universal, in birddom to mate and breed in the spring of the year. Even -in the tropics this holds good. The pelicans of the Gulf of Mexico -breed in April, yet those of the East Coast begin their mating and flock -to the single rookery, which is the nesting place of all East Coast -pelicans, in November. Just below the twenty-eighth parallel of latitude -there is in a sheltered bay in the Indian River a low, sandy island -about three acres in extent. Here all East Coast pelicans breed, and -have done so since man has known the Indian River. The pioneer birds who -first chose this island chose wisely. The place is as far north as they -dare breed for fear of cold, which would kill the young birds. These are -born naked and for the first few weeks of their existence die of cold -even under ordinary temperature, if left unbrooded over fifteen minutes. -Hence one or the other of the parent birds keeps the nest during that -time. On the other hand, they wish to be as far north as they can for -two reasons. One is that excessive heat kills the unprotected young as -well as cold. Another is that the menhaden fishing is better up the -coast than down. Any fish is good enough for the palate of the adult -pelican, but for some reason the birds prefer to feed their young almost -entirely on menhaden. - -In October the breeding impulse comes to these East Coast birds and the -stubby, brown mane grows along the backs of their long necks. Then they -collect together in flocks of hundreds, up and down the coast, and begin -to draw in toward the old home spot. Not, however, until all the clan -has gathered do they bear down upon the island and take possession, -coming in a multitude in the night as our Northern migrants come to -their breeding places. Thus the night herons which winter in this region -come to their rookeries in the Massachusetts cedar swamps. On a day -early last November there were no pelicans on Pelican Island. On another -day the warden whose ceaseless vigilance protects these birds during the -nesting season from the depredations of mankind estimated that there -were seven thousand there. But not all these pelicans were in breeding -plumage or were there to breed. At the close of old home week the -white-necked birds seem in the main to have departed, probably to take -up the lightsome joys of bachelor existence like my friend in the cove. -The others began nest building and placed some fifteen hundred nests on -the three acre island. Then indeed began a carnival of Pelican growing -which lasts each year until late June has brought the longest days, -before the last young bird is full grown and the island is once more -deserted. In fact, last year, though the breeding was finished by the -usual time, the birds did not wholly leave the island and its vicinity -the year through, but hung about in considerable numbers. - -Pelican Island lies so low that an extra high tide works havoc among the -nests, which are of necessity placed on the ground. There is one -mangrove tree on all the island now, though it once was covered. The -weight of nests and roosting birds seem to have combined, perhaps with -other causes, to kill them out. The former habit of the pelicans was to -build entirely in trees. Now, rather than leave their beloved island, -they have become ground builders. Seen in the distance as the boat draws -rapidly nearer, this island seems to be covered with a vast collection -of gray driftwood, so close together are the brooding birds. I have seen -driftwood-covered low islets on the Alaskan coast of Bering Sea which -looked very like it. Again as you come nearer the semblance changes, -fifteen hundred white pelican polls lifted high on long necks to see -what is coming give it the appearance of a field of daisies. - -The time was when these pelicans that brood three thousand young birds -in all stages from fresh-laid eggs to youngsters that can fly and are as -big as their parents, could gauge exactly the distance at which a -shotgun will kill. In those days, before the Department of Agriculture -made this tiny islet a Government reservation, and through the efforts -of the Audubon Society Warden Kroegel had been made its guardian, twelve -thousand feet spread of pelican wings were in the air at shooting -distance every time a boat approached. But pelicans are canny birds and -they - -[Illustration: “The others began nest building and placed some fifteen -hundred nests on the three-acre island”] - -have now learned to sit tight. They simply lift their heads high, draw -their feet up under them so as to be ready for a spring if need be, and -look at you with all the vast dignity of which the bird is capable. The -lightsome frivolity of my white-necked pelican down in the little cove -is not for this place. Nor is there any look of real alarm in their wise -and solemn old faces as I step out of the boat and walk slowly up among -them. - -A sudden motion will startle them into flight, but moving slowly enough -one may approach almost within poking distance of the birds before they -lift into the air and sail away. Truly it is an astonishing sight. On -the higher parts of the little island, one great grass nest almost -touches the next and there is hardly room for the brooding birds to take -flight at the same time without rapping one another with their great -wings. After a moment the general current of the life of the island goes -on undisturbed by the presence of an undemonstrative visitor. Birds come -and go, lifting their great, overbalanced bodies into the air with -incredible ease and flapping away, sailing in from the distance and -dropping with lifted wings to the desired spot. - -The two birds alternate in seeking food and sitting upon the nest and -seem to share equally in all care of the young. The ceremony of nest -relief is sometimes a most curious thing. The approaching bird lights -near the nest, points his bill high in air and draws nearer, wagging his -head most comically from side to side. Thereupon the sitting bird sticks -a long bill down into the nest, twitches half-raised wings nervously and -croaks a hoarse word or two which might well be a complaint of weariness -and cramps from long waiting. Then the two pause for a second and the -sitting bird steps down off the nest in most unconcerned fashion, -waddles a step or two, lifts into the air and is gone, probably to get a -much needed menhaden dinner. The other bird then climbs up on the nest -and takes up the labor of incubation or brooding. It is only after the -chicks have grown the white down which precedes the real feathers that -they are left alone by the parents. There are many reasons for this. If -the weather is cool they die of exposure to the cold; if it is hot the -sun is equally fatal. But there is more to fear than this. Young -pelicans after a certain stage of growth step down out of the nest and -prowl about a bit between meals. Full-grown young have a way of gobbling -up the newborn if unprotected by the presence of the mother. - -In fact, the infant mortality on Pelican Island, even under its present -halcyon condition of Government protection, is high. The pelican must be -an awkward sitter. Addled eggs are to be found on the ground among the -nests in considerable numbers. When the island was clothed with the low -mangrove trees nesting conditions were much safer. Then the young birds -did not leave the nest until about to fly, and the newly hatched were -therefore better protected from being devoured by the neighbors’ -children. Moreover, the habit of wandering from the nest on the ground -makes it difficult for parents to surely find their own offspring when -they come back with food. Any mother with a neck full of fish is good -enough for the youngsters, hence when a cargo arrives they all rush for -it indiscriminately and the real offspring is lucky if he gets the -luncheon. But the worst thing about the ground nesting is an occasional -high tide which comes, driven by northeast winds, and floods the low -portion of the island, sweeping large numbers of eggs and helpless young -to disaster. - -The pelican mother lays three eggs, pure white, about three inches by -two in diameter, being thus slightly smaller than those of the Canadian -goose. If for any reason the eggs of the young birds are destroyed -another litter is laid. Perhaps the frequent destruction of eggs or -nestlings in the crowded communal life of the island accounts for the -prolongation of the breeding season here. The eggs hatch in about four -weeks, and it takes about ten weeks more for the young to acquire full -flight plumage. Three and a half months should normally be all the time -one pelican family would stay on the island. After that the young birds -would roam freely to fish with their elders. But as a matter of fact, -from the laying of the first egg on the island to the departure of the -last young bird is nearer seven months than three and a half. Of the -seven thousand pelicans which come to the island at the beginning of the -season, but three thousand actually have young there at any one time. -What becomes of the other four thousand? Do they not breed that year? -These are interesting questions for the ornithologists to answer by -further careful observation. It seems to me that it is likely that those -birds which do not find a breeding place on the island in November -return after the first brood of the more fortunate is off and occupy -their places. The day that I was there, in the latter half of January, I -saw a pelican carrying grass in his beak, evidently for nest building. - -With the exception of that croak of recognition with which the sitting -bird greets its relieving mate, the adult pelican is as silent as the -severe dignity of the bird in repose would seem to warrant. With the -young it is another matter. Pelican Island is anything but a silent -place during the breeding season. Croaks, cries and squawks come from -the young birds, at times rising to a considerable din. The young bird -just pushing - -[Illustration: A little group of half-grown young pelicans on the edge -of Pelican Island] - -his beak through the shell does it with a grunt. The black, blind -nestlings croak and the larger the bird the shriller his voice and the -louder. To approach a nest when the old bird is off is to be immediately -greeted by harsh cries on the part of the young birds there. Pointing my -finger closely at one of these youngsters, a downy chick of some weeks’ -growth, with a growing bill and a pouch already showing beneath it, I -was somewhat surprised to be greeted with a peace offering of a six-inch -menhaden which the bird produced from some unfathomed depth of his -anatomy, held for a lingering moment lothly in his beak and then laid at -my feet. Probably he thought me an overgrown youngster of ravening -tendencies and he preferred to give his fish rather than himself. - -At nightfall soft winds from the sea blow the crimson sunset up over the -little island and hang it in gorgeous tapestry all along a pearl-blue, -western sky. Through this gorgeous glow the last pelicans sail silently -home. The hoarse cries of the feeding young sound through the rapidly -growing dusk, the old birds bathe in the river still crimson with -reflections of the passing sunset glory, and then silence broods over -the brooding thousands. The young are warm and snug between the mother -bird and the nest, and the old birds sleep with head tucked under wing. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -JUST FISHING - - -I have now decided that I will not live for the remainder of my days in -the country between Okeechobee and the sea. I had thought it a place -peculiarly fitted for the abode of mankind, but I have learned better. -It is lacking in one product very necessary to the welfare of humanity; -that is, a proper growth for fishing poles. Think of it! Hundreds of -square miles of wilderness and not a fishing pole fit to be cut in the -whole of it; and this with rivers that teem with fish that easily put -the Maine lakes to the blush. The tree growth of the barrens and the -savannas is pitch pine and palmetto. By the time the pitch pine is nine -feet tall it has a trunk three inches in diameter, more or less. Even by -cutting this and shaving it down you could not make a fishing pole. - -The palmetto is even more absurd. When a palmetto tree really starts -from the ground its trunk is of its greatest diameter, say almost a -foot. As the tree grows taller this remains about the same except that -the “boots,” which are the bases of the clasping leaf stems, remain for -a time, bracketing the tree all about with a sort of network trellis, -which is ideal for all climbing things. After years these fall off and -leave a clean, barkless trunk eight or ten inches in diameter and -perhaps fifty feet tall. Where the growth is close some run much higher -than this, and I have seen smooth, round, gray boles seventy or eighty -feet from roots to feather-duster tops. As the tree grows older this -trunk instead of enlarging grows thinner, wearing away with wind and -weather, till the oldest trunks are but thin, gray bones that sometime -get too frail to support the superstructure. Then comes a wind in the -forest and the palmetto’s life work is finished. - -Fancy hunting in groves like that for a proper fishing pole! Bamboo, -which makes--I acknowledge it grudgingly--about as good a pole as birch, -may be planted here and will thrive, but few people have so far had the -wisdom to set out bamboo groves. Lacking the culture of fishing poles by -thus setting out bamboo the “Cracker” may indeed cut something which -will serve in the hardwood swamps along the river banks. Here the maple -will give him a heavy, stubby pole, which is better than none, or he may -cut one from the soft, white growth of swamp ash. This is better. But -the swamp ash seems to have a poor memory for direction. It starts out -growing nobly toward the zenith, but by the second or third year it gets -a new slant, say southwest. Next year this is changed, to southeast, -then northeast, then west, all this while pushing diligently upward from -the root. The result is that by the time a swamp ash is big enough to -cut for a fishing pole, it turns at so many angles that it takes a very -capable man to tell which side of the river he is on when he fishes with -it. - -However, there is almost always someone in a Florida community who has a -real bamboo pole, and as Florida people along the little rivers are the -most kindly and generous of any I have ever met, it is not difficult to -arrange the matter of the pole. - -The man who can find an angleworm in all Florida is an abler man than I -am. The angleworm lives in loam. In Florida the soil is made up of two -ingredients, sharp sand and a peaty black substance which is decayed -vegetable matter. Of just plain, honest loam there seems to be a sad -lack. Hence the lack also of angleworms. Any such, trying to bore -through the soil here, would be actually sandpapered out of existence. -So the fisherman must turn to other sources for bait, and fortunately -there is no lack. - -The straw bass, otherwise known as the large-mouthed black bass, is an -inhabitant of North America. In the wilds of northern Canada, clear up -on the sources of the Red River of the North, you will find him, and he -occupies the fresh water stretches of the little rivers of southern -Florida, as well. North or South he is most pleasantly edible, and most -wonderfully prolific. In this region he grows to an ultimate weight of -fifteen pounds, though that size is rare. Here, too, the straw bass -provide both bait and fish. In the high waters of June they spawn in all -the little sandy-bottomed “branches” that lead off the river, and by -Christmas the young from a half inch to three inches in length fairly -swarm in the shallow places near where they were spawned. More than -this, the high water of September has carried their schools in countless -millions high upon the savanna and when the winter brings drought these -are stranded, collected in tiny pools everywhere. A scoop net and a pail -are all you need. The cracker gets them with a piece of bagging roughly -sewed on a barrel hoop. With this he scoops up the bottom of the pool, -fish, mud, leaves, lizards and all else, sorting his needs from the -agglomeration at his leisure by the pool side. After all with a pail -full of such good bait, with a bamboo pole cheerfully borrowed, one is -but a prig to regret angleworms and birch woods. - -To a man from the New England pastures, brought up on the good old pole -and bait system of fishing, the dark pools of the lagoons that border -the upper reaches of the St. Lucie are full of mystery. When he drops -the wriggling bait into their depths he little knows what he may pull -up. The river itself has two currents even almost up to its source, one -upstream, the other down. One comes from the reserve of rainfall in a -thousand pools of the inland savanna, the other from the sea. Up with -the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling silvery bodies in the -dark water till it gleams with moonlight reflections. Now and then a -manatee, rare indeed nowadays, lifts a human-like face above its -surface, then sinks again to browse on the weeds of the bottom. Here -swims the black jewfish, never found under a hundred pounds in weight -and running from that to five hundred. Up the river runs the cavalla, a -mighty fighter that reaches a hundred pounds in weight and makes the -most marvelous leaps when trying to escape the hook. Here in the depths -or on the surface the alligator hunts, not at all particular as to what -he gets to eat, provided he gets it. The alligator’s habit seems to be -to masticate first and investigate at leisure. - -All these things one may catch at one time or another when fishing in -Florida rivers. Down on the Indian River the other day mullet fishermen -found a manatee securely entangled in their net, hauled it ashore and -photographed it, then - -[Illustration: “Up with the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling -silvery bodies in the dark water”] - -released the frightened creature as the law requires. A cracker neighbor -of mine down river who sets trawls gets all sorts of pleasant surprises -when he goes to draw in his lines. The other morning he found the river -full of a most extraordinary commotion, a veritable dragon hissing and -roaring and lashing its brown water into foam. Several shots with a -rifle quieted the beast, which turned out to be a six-foot alligator. A -fish had swallowed the hook, then the alligator had swallowed the fish, -sometime during the night, and had been keeping the river in uproar ever -since, not because he had a hook in his stomach--an alligator will -swallow hardware, stove wood, or anything else--but because he could not -get away to meet an engagement elsewhere. - -Somewhat mindful of these things I sought for my first fishing spot a -secluded bayou. Here I should be safe from dragons and here in the deep -pools the bass congregate in the cool weather of late January. Here -where the black water moves sedately along under the tender green of new -willow leaves I drop my bait and watch my bob. In just such a spot -fifteen hundred miles to the northward I have caught many a fish. Even -the green of the willow is the same, nor is the willow itself of a -strange variety. It is, I am confident, _Salix nigra_, the black willow -or the brittle willow, easily recognized by various characteristics, -one being the exceeding brittleness of its small twigs. The light sweep -of a hand will bare a branch. Beyond the willow is the deep carnelian -red of maple keys and there are young leaves on the soft-wooded swamp -ash trees all about. Yet there is this difference. In the North the -leaves on an ash tree come forward in stately march, in full company -front, one twig no whit behind another. Here they are out of step, some -twigs having just broken bud, others being clothed with half-grown -leaves. Perpetual sunshine has made the ash unpunctual. - -With these things, however, all semblance to a Northern fishing pool -ceases. I look past my floating bob into the depths and find there -reflected the palms that top the wood with gray trunks and spreading -frond-like leaves. The crooked ash shrubs hold air plants at every -angle, each now sending up a stiff, rose-purple spike of bloom. On the -opposite bank from the green willow grows a clump of the huge -_Achrostichum aureum_, a Florida fern taller than myself, its tropic -effect entirely dwarfing the _Osmunda regalis_ and _Osmunda cinnamomea_, -both of which line fishing pools North and seek the same locations down -here. With these grow the linear leaves and white odorous blooms of the -crinum, which is of the amaryllis family but whose blossoms have all -the effect of a stalk of Easter lilies. These are springing into bloom -all about, now, and soon the river will be lined with them. - -But what is this? The bob is most placidly and gently bobbing. Here is a -bite almost like that of a Massachusetts eel. Something is taking the -bait with an almost painful solemnity. It goes down a little and then a -little more and finally I lift, inquiringly, and find a fish on the -hook. It is a lively fish, too, once he feels the bite of the barb and -struggles gamely but vainly as I lift him out. A bass! Only a little -fellow, half to three-quarters of a pound, but who ever heard of a bass -taking bait thus placidly? Up in a Massachusetts lake that I know the -large-mouthed bass take a bait with a rush that carries everything -before it. They whirl beneath the water and leap above it, shaking their -heads to throw from the mouth the thing that hurts them. Surely Southern -languor has gotten into the bones of the bass. Another comes to the hook -in the same peaceful way and I land him. Then there is a lull. A wind -out of the south blows up river and brings me the odor of palmetto -blooms. I always think of loquats when I first smell this. It seems to -be the same odor only not so strong, thinned out seemingly by distance. -The palmetto blossom is not obtrusive. Its flower stalk springs from -among the leaves and does not lift above them. The blooms are tiny and -yellowish white. I speak of the loquat as having the same odor, but -Southern people always say it reminds them of the Madeira vine. - -Following the odor of the palmetto blooms come two butterflies, both -common to the North and the South, one a monarch, the other the tiger -swallowtail, _Papilio turnus_. The turnus circles the pool and finally -lights on the willow blooms across the stream. I watch him with some -eagerness, for the blue of his after wings, instead of being confined to -a single spot, is spread out into a cerulean border which is of singular -beauty. All other markings are those of the turnus, but this is new to -me, and while I am wondering whether this is merely an aberrant form or -a variety of Papilio unknown to me, I feel a lively tugging at my line. -I look down at the bob and laugh in glee. Here is an old friend I am -confident. Only a sunfish bites thus with a bold bobbing that will not -be denied. I pull him out and find I am right. - - “But when Hiawatha saw him - Slowly rising through the water, - Lifting up his disk refulgent, - Loud he shouted in derision, - ‘Esa! esa! shame upon you, - You are Ugudwash the sunfish; - You are not the fish I wanted, - You are not the king of fishes.’” - -True indeed; the sunfish is no king of fishes, but his bite, compared -with that of the Florida - -[Illustration: “A manatee, rare indeed nowadays”] - -straw bass, is kingly indeed. And, as a matter of fact, properly pan -broiled the sunfish of the Florida lagoons is the equal if not the -superior to the lazy bass. - -The bass seem to occupy the depths of the pool, the sunfishes the -shallower edges. These I soon fish out, but while I am doing it I happen -to look at the center of the pool and see rise from below a fine big -fish. My! but he must weigh five pounds. He sticks his nose just above -the surface and scuttles below again. Him surely I must have. I sink -deep and drop the bait low in the middle of the pool. Something bobs the -float gently once or twice, then it sinks steadily and when I stop it I -am sure the big fellow is on. I pull valiantly and so does he, but my -muscle prevails and soon I swing him in onto the ground. This is a new -fish to me, a well-built, fine-looking chap with a long back fin that -nearly includes his tail. He certainly weighs several pounds and I am -proud of him. I speculate as to his proper name, and finally conclude he -must be a sea trout. Another bite in the deep hole and I swing to a good -weight again. This time it is a three-pound catfish. Then there comes -another lull. - -Nightfall comes rapidly when you are fishing. Before I know it the sky -is crimsoning for the sunset and up and down the river the wood ducks -begin to fly in flocks of three to ten crying plaintively, “Oo--eek, -oo--eek.” My pool seems fished out and I begin to move on restlessly, -trying new spots. In one of these I get a sudden rush of a bite, such as -should come from a husky Northern bass and pull out a pickerel-like fish -with scales like those of a snake and a long pointed snout set with -bristling teeth. That is the last. I put him on the slender string with -the others and plod along toward home in the crimson glory. Out of a -drainage ditch I startle a half dozen killdeer plover and they dash -madly away, screaming their lonely, querulous note. Every ditch has its -killdeers and I suspect them of feeding on the young bass which I use -for bait. By and by I am on the road again and as I pass a house set -among pineapple and orange groves with its little patch of ladyfinger -bananas behind it, some lively urchins cease their play to gaze rather -critically at my string of fish. - -“What do you call this one?” I ask, exhibiting my several pound “sea -trout,” with carefully concealed pride. - -“That one?” comes the reply with undisguised scorn, “that’s no good. -That’s a mudfish. Some folks eat ’em.” - -They all looked at me to see if I was of the “some folks” sort that -would eat a mudfish and I hastened to disclaim any such intention. - -“Nobody eats catfish, either,” went on my informant. - -“And this one; what’s this?” I hazarded, exhibiting the long-snouted, -piratical, pickerel-like one. - -“That’s a garfish,” they replied in chorus, “that’s no good either.” - -As I went on up the road I heard them snickering among themselves, -though they had been politely solemn to my face. - -“Huh!” said one. “He didn’t even know what a garfish was.” - -But then, like all the local fishermen they called the wide-mouthed bass -“trout.” Knowledge is no one person’s monopoly, anyway. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -PALMETTOS OF THE ST. LUCIE - - -The cattle men, whose wealth is in range cattle, roaming at will, take -advantage of the dry weather of winter to set the world afire. Hence a -soft, blue haze all about that makes the wide spaces between trees misty -and uncertain and puts vague touches of romance on all distances. By day -a cloudy pillar shows where this fire has got into thick, young growths -of pines and is towering heavenward in pitchy smoke. By night the level -distance is weird with flickering light, and the wanderer is guided by a -moving column of flame as were the Israelites of old. - -After these moving lines of fire have passed, the flame often lingers -for days in stumps of the pine, eating away at the fat wood which is -solid and green with resin. A chip off a dead stump of a Florida pine -will burn at the touch of a match. All over the flatwoods are these -stumps, often standing fifty feet high and a foot or two in diameter. -The bark has fallen, leaving them to personate thin ghosts in the vivid -light of moon-flooded nights. The sap wood of these trees softens with -decay after a while, but the heart stands firm for unlimited years. The -Florida farmers, who must fence their farms from the range cattle if -they wish to keep them, use this heartwood for fence posts and it is -fabled to last in the ground a century. When the fires of the cattle men -have burned over the ground, leaving nothing behind but ashes and the -blackened trunks of scrub palmettos which look like scaly dragons, -charred and writhing because of the fire, the sap wood of the standing -pine trunks holds the flame and it winds spirally about the hard center -night after night, till it flutters like a bird from the topmost -pinnacle and vanishes toward the stars. Of windy nights you may see -these crimson flocks fluttering and taking wing. By day the black heart -wood of the stub still stands, charred, but erect and firm as ever. - -Very different is it with the sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower -often as high as the pines, but whose roots are in the moister soil. The -fire may run up these if they have not lost the “boots” as the clasping -petioles of their great leaves are called, but it does nothing more than -slightly blacken the real trunk. The palmetto decays differently from -the pine. When it lies rotting in the forest it is the outer husk which -is solid after years; the inner part decays and leaves a hollow which -is an easy refuge for wild things. In the palmetto trunk the coon finds -safety and the opossum curls up by day, waiting for his nightly raiding -time to come. The cotton-tailed rabbit, however, does not affect the -interior of the palmetto stub. For a siesta after foraging he tramps out -a little grassy apartment among the scrub palmettos. Usually this is -entered by the top, the rabbit hopping down into it when arriving and -hopping out with nervous haste and white tail high in air when I happen -upon him. - -When he comes to hollow palmetto logs, I suspect br’er rabbit of passing -with a shudder, not because of opossums or raccoons, or foxes or -polecats, all of which might rush out on him from such places, and all -of which eat him. But the rabbit has little real fear of these. He can -escape from them too readily. There is another occasional occupant of -the hollow palmetto, however, for whom br’er rabbit has much horror, and -I confess to similar feelings when I chance upon him suddenly. That is -the gopher snake. Not that I have any real excuse for this feeling, for -the gopher snake is not only perfectly harmless to all creatures except -those that he swallows whole, but he is one of the handsomest snakes -known. His main color is an intense indigo blue, so deep that it is a -blue black, whence another common name, the indigo snake. His entire -scalation is as - -[Illustration: “Sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower often as high -as the pines”] - -polished as glass and his length reaches sometimes nine feet. - -One that I know lives by the roadside down near the river and I can find -him there almost any sunny day that I go along. He cast his skin some -days ago and came out the most striking snake I have ever seen. His -blue-black back shone like glass, his under parts showed all the -prismatic colors on the plates of the abdomen, where he looked like -burnished metal, while his chin, throat and two streaks on each side of -the head were a rich red. The road near his favorite sunning spot has -been corduroyed with palmetto trunks, and when I approach too near, say -within two or three feet, he slips forward with an easy, gliding motion -and goes into a hollow trunk, usually turning round within and putting a -foot or two of his head and neck out again to see what is going on. He -is not at all afraid and shows neither nervousness nor anger as he -glides away. In fact, I am the one that is nervous. I am convinced that -Adam was my ancestor. It was Eve that hobnobbed with the serpent. I can -see Adam having cold chills and stepping lively for a big stick. - -The gopher is really in a limited way a household pet of the region. He -is a mighty hunter of rats, and in consequence is welcomed about barns -and outbuildings and even sometimes invades the loosely built houses in -his vocation. He yields readily to friendly advances and in captivity -is a gentle pet. - -To really see palmettos you will do well to explore the St. Lucie River. -Incidentally you will see a river whose tropical beauty exceeds that of -the famed Tomoka, and, I believe, any other river in Florida. I think -the St. Lucie originally intended to be straightforward, but it does it -by a most amazing series of windings and crooks. Within a half-mile you -will face all points of the compass on this bewildering, bewitching -river, nor may you be sure by the current which way you are going. So -slight is the fall between source and mouth that the salt sea which -floods in through the Indian River gets tangled in the crooks of the St. -Lucie and goes on and on to within a few miles of the source before its -force is entirely spent. Then only does it allow the water from the -savanna springs to go downward to the sea. - -Twenty miles up come the mangroves, their seeds floating on the brimming -tides and germinating within the husk, to find root eventually along the -shores and grow new shrubs with ovate, shiny leaves. At high tide the -mangroves remind me of the alders which fringe the ponds and streams at -home. At low tide to see them from the river is to be astonished at -their forests of inch-thick waterpipe roots, dropping in parallel lines, -perpendicularly from their butts into the brackish water. Higher than -the mangroves grow the soft, swamp ash trees, holding the ground in the -river-carved swamps sometimes to the seclusion of other trees. The wood -of these trees is very soft, white and brittle and the trunks are never -large, six inches being a good diameter. Soon, too, they become hollow -and the crooked, leaning trees rot and fall to the ground bringing with -them great stores of air plants that grow, pineapple-like, along their -trunks from base to tip. With the tender green of the young ash leaves -come the blossoms of these air plants, giving the angular, awkward trees -the appearance of putting out tropic spikes of purple-stemmed, -blue-flowered beauty. - -Here and there the live-oaks, never very numerous in this region, show -dark green on the higher banks. The live-oak is the symbol of stability -and even virility, if you please, but it is at the best somber and glum. -It drops its leaves grudgingly, one by one, putting out its new ones in -the same way, thus always retaining its cloth of dark green. In October -it was hard to distinguish the difference between the live-oaks and the -water-oaks. Both seemed somber and dour. Not long ago the water-oaks -went bare in evidence that winter was here. But now you should see them! -First they showed a misty, sage green with tender lights in it. The sun -of another day lighted this up with a nascent bronze that was full of -soft withdrawals and tender shynesses, and the wee leaves grew hourly -broader with a surgence of gentle green through the short petioles, -suffusing the whole tree with a tender, translucent beauty, as endearing -as that of a Massachusetts May. Here in southern Florida winter is but a -word that is not quite spoken, but spring comes very really, though not -as it does in the North. There it rises like an all-pervading tide. Here -it wells forth in spots as if the fountain Ponce de Leon sought bubbled -at intervals, here and there. Spring in the North is a symphony; here it -is a fugue. - -Along the St. Lucie grow maples all richly salmon red with young leaves -and winged fruit. Willows are gray-green, too, and the sweet gum is a -milky way of green stars with the divergent points of its new leaves. -Here are creepers, lithe as snakes that climb from the muddy shores to -the tops of the highest trees and swing down again, trailing tips in the -water. In the dusk of the swamps the white blooms of the crinum glow -like stars that are reflected in the black water. - -But with all this luxuriance of other growing things the tree that -dominates the St. Lucie is the palmetto. It grows from the black muck of -the swamp, where the slow tides swirl sedately around its roots, and it -towers from the highest bank where the live-oak roots grip the sand -with tenacity that holds it even against the undermining effect of the -spring floods. Where the floods have had their way it leans far out over -the water, or even drops into it, the long, straight trunk a famous -climbing place for foot-wide turtles that come out to sun themselves and -sit in solemn, silent rows with their heads tipped back so that the -warmth may strike their throats. These plunge beneath the surface with -much splashing as you pass, then secretly and silently paddle back and -crawl out after a while. If the current did not cut the banks and let -the palmettos fall the big turtles would have hard work to get their -share of the spring sunshine. Often a water-oak leans far out over the -water in this way, a favorite roosting place for the water turkeys. - -The water turkey reminds me of a crow that has had his neck pulled. He -is rather rare, of a not very numerous family, the anhingidæ or darters, -there being only four species in the world. The bird is the funniest -thing on the river. Its glossy crow-black is touched with white, and in -some specimens this change begins at the shoulders and makes the whole -neck look as if plucked. The anhinga dives like a loon and lives on -fish, though how it gets them down that preposterously thin neck I -cannot explain. It is sometimes called snake-bird, and perhaps the neck -stretches for deglutition as does a snake’s. Often as I paddle up to -one, pointing his slim, serrate-toothed, sharp-pointed bill this way and -that, as if trying to poke holes in the atmosphere through which to -escape, then with a tremendous burst of nervous energy whirring on short -wings over my head, I note a big bunch at the base of this preposterous -neck, which I take to be his crop distended with nourishing fish. He is -a nervous bird, and he seems to fly with a lump in his throat. Once in -the air he soars prettily like a hawk, and often comes back into his -tree again, slamming with scrambling haste to a perch whence he cranes -his head this way and that. Sometimes the water turkey, surprised on a -low limb, will go into the river with a splash that reminds me of the -way a kingfisher takes a fish. - -After that it is hard to see the bird again. He has a way of coming just -to the surface and poking up that slim head and neck to look around -while yet his body is submerged. If you do happen to see him you then -realize why the name “snake-bird” has been given to him. The natives who -refuse to eat the catfish from the river declare the water turkey most -toothsome. After all, there is a good deal in a name. No one eats cats, -but we all know turkey is delicious. - -The pileated woodpeckers love the banks of the St. Lucie, their homes -in the holes that so often look toward the river from palmetto stubs on -the banks. Once seen, I do not find the bird difficult of approach. I -watched one at close range the other morning for a quarter of an hour -while he dug at an ash limb as if he intended to make a nest in it, but -after all his grubbing was merely for breakfast food, which he pulled -out and swallowed with gusto, his little slim neck and perky head -reminding me of those of a guinea-fowl. I do not think _Ceophlœus -pileatus_ a handsome bird, but he is fast becoming a rare one and just -to watch a pair is a privilege. - -There is nothing rare about the little green heron. He is almost as -common to Massachusetts in summer as he is to Florida in winter, yet I -think I would pick him for the gentle genius of the stream. On bright -days this little fellow is not so easy to find. You will pass a dozen, -sitting motionless and dumpy, head on breast and neck telescoped down -between the shoulders, for one that you will see. He is a sweet little -cherub of a bird thus, and he will keep his pose till you approach very -near, knowing that immobility often means invisibility. I like to -steadily intrude on him and watch his change of demeanor when he feels -sure that he is watched. Gradually all dumpiness goes. His neck appears, -then stretches till he will almost rival the water turkey. Alertness -grows upon him. His head cocks with a perky air and a crest rises on it. -He walks, foot over foot, up his limb and finally poises there, as -assertive and vigilant as a red-headed street urchin standing tiptoe -behind the bat when the bases are full and the honor of the ward hangs -on the next play. He reminds me of just that. But the resemblance ceases -when he flies, for he just gives a flop or two, over perhaps to the next -bush, then sinks into immobility again, seemingly confident that he has -found safety by his flop. - -But over all rare or common birds, graceful or awkward shrubs or trees, -waves everywhere the benedictory grace of the palmettos. Ferns love them -and climb by the brackets of their young trunks to the tops where they -still grow when the trees are old and the boles are smooth to the crown -of living petioles. Often the weather or some strange trick of growth -has carved the upper portions of these aged trunks till the feathery -fronds seem set in vases mounted in pedestals, and the ferns and air -plants seem as if tucked into these by the slim fingers of some tall -goddess of the woods. So across them falls the topaz splendor of the -tropic sunset and as quick night glooms the river the passing sun -caresses the palmettos last and leaves them, rustling gentle wildwood -talk among themselves, waiting his return. - -[Illustration: “As quick night glooms the river the passing sun caresses -the palmettos last”] - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -INTRUDING ON WARD’S HERONS - - -Ward’s heron is the Florida variety of the great blue heron, like him -only more so. There is slight difference in the marking, the _Ardea -wardi_ having olive instead of black legs, whiter lower parts, and a -somewhat darker neck. But Ward’s heron is almost a foot taller than the -other, and when you see the two fly side by side you might well think -the great blue heron the little blue heron, so much does this peninsular -prototype dwarf his compatriot of wider range. There are Ward’s herons -in the big lagoon here east of White City mornings that I am confident -stand six feet in height. Out there on marshy islands they have a superb -dignity of pose, statues of frozen alertness. Taking wing they blanket -the landscape with wide pinions and their legs stretch rudder-wise to a -great length behind them, while their necks are doubled back on -themselves till the head is hunched in between the shoulders and the -protruding neck curve looks like a pouch. By this use of the neck you -will know them in the distance from the sandhill cranes because the -crane flies with neck fully stretched. But the sandhill crane is a foot -shorter, anyway. Ward’s heron rarely gets out of Florida, being found -most frequently in the lower two-thirds of the State, or from Alachua -County down. - -It was by way of the sandhill cranes that I came to the heron rookery. -They have a way of setting up a most prodigious cackling, a sonorous -croaking call that outdoes all the barnyard fowls in St. Lucie County. -It is quite like the barnyard, too, a cutdarkuting as of husky Plymouth -Rock hens that have laid eggs and are proud of it. It carries far. The -first time I heard it I hastened cautiously a mile or two through the -flat-woods, expecting every minute to come onto the birds. But after I -had made my mile or two the birds took flight, writing black Greek -letters along the horizon. Most often in the dawn I heard them over -toward the big lagoon and traced the sound there to its most conspicuous -landmark. This is a tiny island, holding a score or two of cabbage -palmettos flanked with odorous myrtles, these in turn standing in a -jungle of ferns, osmundas in the main, a picturesquely beautiful spot, -standing in the middle of this big, shallow lagoon that stretches thirty -miles, north and south, flanking the pineapple-clad ridge from Fort -Pierce down. - -To this shore in the gray of dawn the sound - -[Illustration: “A superb dignity of pose, statues of frozen -alertness”] - -led me and then vanished with all evidence, the croaking cranes having -slipped away on silent wings. I stopped a moment to admire the sunrise. -It was a clear, winter morning, cool for Florida, and dawn had tumbled -suddenly out of a cloudless sky, upon a flat land. It was too cold for -the usual morning mists and there was nothing to restrain the light. It -was daybreak all in a moment. Yet, after all, there was a good space of -time between the dawn and the sunrise, a time in which all the sky in -the east grew golden and then crimson. The island was two islands, one -under the other with half the palms pointing directly toward the nadir. -Lagoons within the lagoon reflected the pellucid blue of the high sky -and the crimson gold of the eastern horizon, seven-foot saw grass -dividing them with its dense tangle. Out of this saw grass came the -clucking of coot as the flocks began to bestir themselves. Then there -was a great chorus of musical chuckles and a great cloud of witnesses to -the joy of living arose. The coot spend the night in the water in the -little pools among the saw grass, but the grass tops are full of -blackbirds all night long. - -With the chorus out they came, a thousand redwings flying jubilantly -overhead to their feeding grounds. Behind me in the palmetto scrub there -was further rustle of wings and todo of waking birds. I turned to see -what was there and a wave of warmth struck my back and swept by me. I -knew by that that the sun had popped up over the pineapple ridge to -eastward and the day had fairly begun, but I waited, still watching the -palmetto scrub that here grew in dense shrubbery, three feet high. Out -of it came a cock robin, swinging so near me that he shied with a little -nervous shriek of dismay. At the word the palmetto began to spout -robins, singly and in flocks, filling the air with their fluttering and -their good morning cries till the eruption had lasted for several -minutes and I do not know how many hundred birds had taken wing. In this -region the robins, still lingering on the fifteenth of February as if -they knew of the snow and zero weather North, keep together in flocks, -often of hundreds if not thousands of birds. Moreover, they roost -together, always on or near the ground amongst the scrub palmettos, -though why there instead of the pines or the tall palmettos I do not -know. So with the blackbirds, redwing and rusty, crow blackbird and -Florida grackle, all seem to roost low together in the great beds of saw -grass out in the lonely lagoon. - -Turning back to the east, I found the lagoon a flood of crimson glory -with my palm-topped island swimming in it, all rimmed with fire, for the -sun was just behind the dense trees whose feathery fronds seemed just -crisping with its flame. And then I looked again, carefully, and took -the bird glass from my pocket and focused that on the tree tops as best -I might against the crimson glow, for there above the fronded palms -stretched a half-dozen or so of long necks with big, keen-pointed beaks -set on small heads that topped the necks at right angles. Standing in -the palm tops, or perhaps sitting there, were a dozen great Ward’s -herons. I watched them for some time in their comings and goings, and -soon made up my mind that there were many nests there. - -I had stumbled upon a Ward’s heron rookery and was greatly pleased. Yet -so far the stumble was a long-distance one. The island was an eighth of -a mile away, and though there are boats on the lagoon, the saw grass -grows so dense and divides portions of it off from other portions so -definitely and finally, that none were available. You cannot penetrate -the saw grass with a boat. I tried wading in it out toward my island, -for the lagoon is nowhere deep except in the alligator holes, but only a -pretty desperate man would make his way far in the saw grass. The herons -flew croaking to and fro to their nests, but I had to be content to -watch them with the bird glass. - -Some days later I had built a tiny canoe of cotton drilling, stretched -over palmetto-stalk ribs, and painted. The adventures of this wee -coracle, going to the lagoon, on the lagoon, and coming from the lagoon -were humorously grotesque and exciting, but they have no part in this -story. It is sufficient to say that it floated like a bird--too much -like a bird sometimes--and that after due study and persistence, I -reached the island in it a morning about a week after the discovery of -it. I was right. The palmetto tops were full of the nests of Ward’s -heron. - -The island itself was a gem of palm-topped green in the clear water of -the lagoon. Along its edges sedges and bulrushes grew from the water, -and as the ground rose one came upon a grove of the lovely olive-colored -myrtle, the spicebush of the South. Among these myrtles growing almost -breast high were the Osmunda ferns, regalis mostly, so thick that they -made progress slow. Beneath the palmettos was a noisy debris of fallen -leaves, that rattled and crunched under foot, reminding one of walking -through Northern woods in winter when there is a crust on the snow. It -was not until I struck this pseudo snow crust that the herons took -alarm. Then there was a crashing in the tree tops as great wings flapped -against the broad, stiff leaves of the palms and the birds took flight -with harsh croaks, circling about till I was reminded of the harpies in -the Æneid. Some flapped off to the mainland, others lighted - -[Illustration: A little blue heron and her nest, the commonest Florida -heron] - -in the marsh shallows near by and froze there. It is surprising how -immediately a big heron, thus motionless, becomes but an inanimate part -of the landscape and escapes notice. Never before had I seen the big -birds so near, every mark and feather of their noble forms being brought -to close range by the glass. A most striking feature was the long, -drooping, graceful plume which grew from the back of the head, a mark of -the breeding season. - -I found young birds in various stages of growth, from those almost grown -which took wing when too closely approached, to little chaps that peeped -beseechingly when the old birds came sailing back, evidently expecting -to be fed. There were other nests in which I could see no young birds -which seemed to be in good condition and which I thought contained eggs. -But how was I to prove this? I might “shin” one of the smooth, straight -trunks if it were like that of a Northern tree. But shinning a palmetto -is another matter. The endogenous fiber crumbles on the outside, as to -the weather-worn pith, but leaves the trunk beset with tiny splinters -that fill whatever rubs too intimately against them. I might climb one -of these palmetto trunks in that way if I had to; in fact, a morning or -two later--but of that anon. I decided that one tall palm dominated a -series of nests and if I could perch among its fronds I would be able -to make intimate study of what goes on in heron land. I circumnavigated -the island and crossed it from side to side, finding there nothing to -alarm but much to interest. - -Some days later I came back, equipped to go to the top of my selected -palm. It was a different sort of a morning. All the day before the wind -had blown from the south and the sun had shone fervently in on a land -that lay sweltering in warmth under a midsummer-like temperature. The -weather which had been like that of the finest October became like that -of the finest July. A myriad insects, before silent, found a voice as -evening came on and the night, so full of genial warmth, thrilled with -their gentle calls. Frog voices came from the little ponds in the -savanna on the way down to the big lagoon, and that chill which comes -with a windless dawn even was not great enough to silence them. Only the -daybreak put out the lights of the big fireflies whose yellow-green, -fairy lamps had glowed and paled all night long among the grasses and -bushes of the roadside. Something of the fervor of the tropics had come -upon the land. - -I ought to have realized what other life this genial warmth was likely -to bring out, especially on the little island, the one dry refuge in -miles of wild lagoon, but a month of cold weather had lulled me into -forgetfulness of what every man who tramps the wilds of southern Florida -must not forget. So I landed right eagerly and marched up under the -palmettos with an armful of short, stout slats, a pocket full of nails, -a hammer and a small saw. I would nail the slats, ladderwise, one above -another up the trunk of my chosen palmetto, saw an entrance to the very -center of the branching fronds at its top, and there I should sit, the -very head of the palmetto cabbage, in a bower of green, watching my -neighbors in a score or so of nests a little below me. I submit that it -was a proper scheme, and the only reason why it was not carried out to -immediate success was that I had not reckoned on the tenants of the -lower flat. - -Upstairs everything was all right. The herons flapped away with croaking -dismay as I came beneath their trees. I could see the long necks of some -of the half-mature birds stretched upward from the nests of slender -crossed reeds and sticks, and I glanced from them to the ground beneath -the selected palmetto as I strode over brittle rubbish of their dead -leaves and brush and royal ferns. And then I stopped with one foot in -the air and a little whoop of dismay and utter terror of what was about -to happen, for there beneath my selected palm, almost beneath my raised -foot, was the body of a great snake. His head and tail were both hidden -by the fallen palmetto leaves, but I knew he could not be less than -seven feet long by his thickness, which was several inches. I doubt if I -could have much more than spanned him with my two hands at any part of -his visible length, about five feet, as he stretched from palm to palm. - -However, I did not try any such test. I was content to gaze at him with -bulging eyes and watch him, in breathless silence, for fear he might -make the first move. Nor was this study reassuring. It began with hopes -that he might be merely one of the harmless big south Florida snakes. -Some of these are found eight feet long and proportionately big round, -and are looked upon with friendly favor by people who know them best, -because they not only eat rats and other vermin but are fabled to kill -and eat the poisonous snakes. The study ended in the conviction that -here was none of these. I knew that I was looking upon a grandfather of -rattlers, a diamond-back seven feet long, four inches thick, and stuffed -with venom from his little wicked yellow eyes to his stubby tail. Almost -any hunter of this region will show you seven-foot skins. Some have dens -hung with them. Here was the real thing. - -In blithely entering this apartment house, bound for the upper story, I -had reckoned without the hosts of the lower flat. On my previous visit -this present incumbent, and I knew not how many more, had been stowed, -torpid, beneath the leaves for warmth. This was their weather, and they -were sleeping without many bedclothes. - -I reached for my shooting-coat pocket and brought out a 38-caliber -revolver. I had carried this for months for just such a desperate -emergency, and the sight of its gleaming barrel gave me confidence. But -not when I noted the tremulous figure eights which the front sight made -in the air as I tried to get a bead on mine enemy. This would not do. A -miss or a wound would mean an argument for which the island was far too -small, from my point of view, to say nothing of the possible -reënforcements for the other fellow. I backed gingerly away with both -eyes over both shoulders as well as on the snake which moved almost -imperceptibly. I tiptoed round him, trying to find some vantage ground, -trying to get a little less shake into the muzzle of that revolver, but -it was no use. The thought of stirring him up in the midst of that -tangle of dead palm leaves, royal ferns and bushes was not a pleasant -one, and I tiptoed back along my trail to my canoe, which looked mighty -cozy and comfortable when I got to it. This cautious retreat was wise, -too. The rattler did not follow me, but on my way I passed two big -cotton-mouthed moccasins, thick, clumsy, four feet long and -stubby-tailed, and almost as venomous as the rattlesnake whose island -they helped tenant. I must have stepped within a foot of these on my way -in. - -The island in the big lagoon is a lovely spot. Its tenants of the upper -story are beautiful and most fascinating. But the folk of the lower -flat! Br-r r, wur-r r, ugh! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -ONE ROAD TO PALM BEACH - - -One of the Alice-in-Wonderland fruits of the pineapple ridge which lies -to the westward of the Indian River is the papaw. I never see it but I -expect to find the walrus and the carpenter sitting under it engaged in -animated argument. Especially is this the case with one variety, -imported, they tell me, from the West Indies. Here is a stalk that comes -up out of the ground as a milkweed might, green and succulent till it -overtops a man’s head, spreading from this single stem somewhat -milkweed-like leaves from four to eight inches long. Nodding from the -axils of these leaves come the flowers, followed by the fruit which is -the grotesque climax of the whole, for here, stuck close on this -succulent, head-high stem, is a muskmelon, or something just as good, so -far as appearance goes. - -The thick, green rind becomes yellow on ripening and even when you twist -the fruit off and hold it in your hand the muskmelon thought remains -uppermost. You may taste this goblinland muskmelon if you will and -still not entirely lose the idea, though it is to me something like -eating a muskmelon in a bad dream. There are people who say they like -papaws, and that if you take them at just the right period of their -ripeness and eat them muskmelon-wise with sugar and a spoon you will -hardly know the difference. Such people may have all the papaws that -have thus far been reserved for me. - -Well out in the pine barrens, I find another shrub which is a close -relative of the papaw, the custard apple. This is a wild fruit which I -am quite prepared to believe is delicious, perhaps because I have never -eaten it. The opossums, coons and foxes, all very fond of it, have -gotten ahead of me, long ago, and since their harvesting the low-growing -shrub has been but a leafless thing, not to be noticed in a world of -tropic vegetation. Now creamy white blossoms have burst from the bare -twigs and are sending a new fragrance all along the level barrens on the -soft, summer breeze. This fragrance has in it something of orange -blossoms, something of the fruity odor of the guava which is to some -people unpleasant but which I declare delicious, and a wild delight of -its own. It suggests things good to eat. Some perfumes give you dreams -of disembodiment in heavenly spaces of pure delight. Of such are -carnations and English violets, the clethra of our Northern swamps and -the wild cherokee roses of the Southern hedgerows. The odor of the -custard apple blooms makes you think of banquets of delicious fruits -served by pink-fleshed, round-bodied wood nymphs while amorous breezes -blow soft from Southern seas. - -The newborn scent of the custard apple blooms has added a zest to the -joy of the morning breezes. These were sufficiently intoxicating before. -Always there are odorous flowers in bloom here, and always there is the -spicy fragrance of the long-leaved pines to form a basis for any delight -which they may bring. The soft winds which are their messengers call you -out mornings early and I do not wonder that this is never a land of the -closet or the counting house. No one whose senses are set a-tremble by -them can stay indoors, and once he is afoot they lead him on and on, nor -does nightfall make him willing to return. Then the great white moon -simply lends further enchantment to the road. - -To-day this lure led me far out on the old Government trail which is -now, strange to relate, one road to Palm Beach. This is one rarely -traversed by the butterflies of fashion. You may see these gliding by on -the Pullman limited, looking with road-weary, unseeing eyes through the -thick glass of the windows. The yachts of others take them down the -sparkling waters of the Indian River, but now and then an automobile -enthusiast, lured south by the good trails through Ormond and Daytona -and Rockledge, then bewildered by the vast sand depths of the roads -below and finally learning with sinking heart at Fort Pierce that there -is no bridge across the St. Lucie nearer its mouth, swings westward into -the limitless prairie and follows this old Government trail which swings -out from the noise of breakers somewhere above the head waters of the -St. Lucie, keeps for a dozen to a score of miles to the westward of the -seacoast, and marches steadily southward to Miami. I doubt if the -country along its two shallow ruts is any less wild to-day than it was -in the days of Osceola. Except for those narrow ruts which you may not -see two rods away man has left the region unmarked. You see there what -Ponce de Leon may have seen. - -A mile west of the St. Lucie you still carry the settlements with you. -Here are ditches, that first requisite of Florida farming, and wire -fences, which come next. Here are comfortable houses, set high on -heartwood posts, and here too are groves of grapefruit trees, the great -golden globes weighing the tough branches with their glossy, dark-green -foliage to the ground. Here are dogs that bark and cocks that crow and -all the simple, genial activities of farm life. You - -[Illustration: A Seminole village deep in the flat woods of Southern -Florida] - -go your mile and with the houses at your back you stand within the -untamed wilderness. A mile farther and you may look which way you will -and you are lost from all touch with man. But before you make the mile -you will pause and turn, for there, upside down upon a tree, but with an -arrow pointing due south, is a sign which says, “To Miami”. The last -warning, guiding word of civilization is humorous and you plod southward -into the primeval with a laugh. - -After a little the spaces take you in and make you one with their -fraternity. The sun and the wind spy upon you. The broad blue eye of the -heavens looks you through and finds you fit. Thereafter you begin to see -this barren, lonely world as it is, and find it neither barren nor -lonely. The absolute level begins to show undulations, and after you -have walked it a half-score of miles you may tell the hills from the -valleys though the variation be but that of a half-foot in a quarter -section. Here is the top of a ridge which you might need a theodolite to -find if it were not that it has its own peculiar vegetation. Along this -the taller pines have crept and found permanent foothold. With them have -come the saw palmetto, accentuating the rise of inches by the dense -green vegetation of a foot or two in height. No summer floods have long -topped this ridge, else the palmettos had failed to find permanent -rooting here. Down its long slope they fall away, and though the pines -have ventured farther than they, the water has dwarfed them at first and -later left them but dead stubs a few inches in diameter and standing but -a score or so of feet high. - -A study of them will show you not only the swing of the land from high -to low, but the swing of the seasons through wet to dry and back again. -During long successions of droughty years the pines have seeded down the -slope and made a small growth in the rich bottoms. Then the pendulum of -annual rainfall has swung back again and a series of wet decades have -followed. Through these the trees have failed in growth and died, with -their roots under water. Now their bareback, white stubs stand as -markers on the borders where prairie land runs into muck. - -On the intervals of prairie grow the grasses, soft, brown and ripe with -last year’s growth, showing as yet but little of the green of this. -These paint all the background of the scene with their olives and tans, -as if the painter of it first made his background with grass, then set -his figures and lights and shades upon this, the gray stubs, the deep -brown trunks of living trees, the vivid green of the palmetto leaves and -gold of sunlight and purple of shadows chasing one another over all. The -high lights in all this scene are the pools. Where the long dip of the -land culminates the grasses give way to sedge and bulrush, and these to -sparkling water which catches the shine of the wide sky and throws it -back to the eye in silvery lights. - -Such, in broad splashes of color, is the prairie through which this old -Government trail winds, from the St. Lucie to Palm Beach, and on down to -Miami. Always the pines are present, though seemingly always just -beyond. They stand so far apart that all about you is invariably the -open space, while beyond, dwindling into the distance of receding miles, -the trees draw together and group in a forest that you are never to -find. As you proceed it recedes, slipping away in front and closing in -behind as if the trees, shy but curious, fled, then followed. - -By the time you see all this the wide spaces are no longer lonely, and -the individuals that inhabit them begin to step forward out of the mass -and salute you. I always notice first the prairie flowers. Like the -trees these are scattered here and there, the conspicuous ones in no -wise as plentiful as the daisies and buttercups of Northern meadows. -Scattered like big stars at twilight the heliopsis blooms show golden -disks of composite flowers, veritable tiny suns in the prairie -firmament, while about them revolve constellations of yellow stars of -coreopsis. The ground in moist spots is often salmon red with the -plants of the sundew and starred yellow with the blooms of the tiny, -land-born utricularia, while in the pools their larger, many-flowered -brethren float free, touching heads almost and studding the pool as -stars stud the sky on a moonless, winter night. - -Only in the pools is this profusion to be found. In some of these the -blue blooms of the pickerel weed crowd shoulder to shoulder, almost as -close as in some Northern bogs I know. But the flowers of the drier, -grassy plains are far more scattered. Indeed, one may walk a half mile -sometimes and hardly see one. Again they are more numerous but never -what might be called grouped. - -And yet, I must needs revise that again. There are places where the -moist ground is white with _Houstonia rotundifolia_, which is not so -very different from _Houstonia cærulea_, the common bluet of our -Northern May fields. In other spots the purple-flowered variety, -_Houstonia purpurea_, is very plentiful; yet neither have I found making -such solid masses of bloom as the Northern variety. Of all the varied -flowers of these sky-bounded levels, however, the one that pleases me -most is the Calopogon. It makes the beautiful, level wilderness more -beautiful with the quaint racemes of bright purple, curiously -constructed flowers. - -I think the most conspicuous bird along this lone, level trail is the -black vulture, which in this region seems to be more common than the -turkey buzzard. It is not always easy to distinguish the two at a -distance, but the vulture has shorter wings, is a heavier bird, flaps -oftener in flight and the under sides of his wings are silvery. - -In places where the young grass is springing beneath still growing pines -I find the Florida grackle, which is hardly to be told from our Northern -species, in numbers, feeding on the ground and singing and fluttering -iridescent black wings in the trees. With the blackbird groups fly up -flocks of a swifter, cleaner built bird, colored in the main a slaty -gray. These birds have the unmistakable head of the dove, and my first -thought on seeing a flock of them was that I had stumbled upon a remnant -of that vanishing bird, the passenger pigeon. This was a smaller bird, -however, and, nowadays, a far more common one, the mourning dove. The -whistling of their wings on first starting into flight should have told -me better, for the flight of the passenger pigeon is said to be -noiseless. - -The mourning dove is a beautiful bird, with those gentle outlines which -make all birds of this species lovable, but for quaint, gentle beauty it -has a rival in the ground dove which is quite as common here. These I -find in the open prairie or among the pines, but far more often in the -scrub of the palmetto hammocks, where they run along the ground almost -at my feet, gentle, lovable and unafraid. The bird seems to be as much -like a quail as a dove as its feet twinkle over the grass. In flight it -is like a picture on a Japanese screen. - -But, after all is said and done, the loveliest bird I have seen in all -the South, pine barrens or savannas, palmetto hammocks or village -gardens, is the bluebird. Here and there these may be found all along -the Palm Beach road, sitting perhaps on top of the gray bones of a dead -prairie pine with the rich cinnamon red of the breast and throat turned -to the sun, or dropping thence like a bit of the blue sky itself, -fluttering down into the olive brown wire grass, seeming to add a more -beautiful bloom to the prairie than I have yet found there. The faint -carol of the bird is so slight a sound that it might well be lost in all -this limitless space, but somehow it seems to carry far and is sweeter -than any song of Southern bird that I have yet heard. When the bluebird -goes North the savannas will have lost their finest touch of beauty and -of charm. - -To those who would see the real Florida I recommend this lone Palm Beach -trail, not taken in the whirl of an automobile rush to safety under the -wing of one of the big hotels, but slowly and with open eyes and ears -that the beauty and significance of the place may enter in. Chief of -these, I fancy, and longest to be remembered will be the wide sweep of -sky which there seems to bend nearer and be bigger, bluer and friendlier -than in most other places. The southeast trade winds sweep across this -sky all day long, and bring with a temperature of June great store of -white clouds that now roll in cumulus heads and again are torn to white -streamers of carded fleece. Sometimes these gather and darken and spill -April-like showers for a moment, then blow over and leave the vivid sun -to pour the round, inverted bowl of the sky full of the sunshine’s gold. -Through it all you walk as if on the pinnacle of the world with the sky -very big and very near and all things friendly. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -MOONLIGHT AND MARCH MORNINGS - - -To be sure, March came blustering, but it blew in out of a succession of -moon-flooded nights, soft and brilliant, in which the ineffable love of -the heavens for the earth was so great that the humblest might know it. -The moon did not rise in distant eastern heavens beyond the limit of -human ken. In the pink afterglow of the sunset it was born from the -Indian River, a new golden Venus rising from the silver foam of a -sapphire sea that save for the path of moon-silver was as clear as the -brooding truthful sky. - -For nights the trade winds were lulled and sighed in across the savannas -in little whispered words of peace, whispers that were like the touch of -rose petals on the cheek, as warm as the breath of a sleeping child. It -was as if the fond sky leaned upon the loving shoulder of the world and -was content to dream there. In this nearness and intimacy, this warmth -and peace, wee creatures of the tropic night woke and sang for very joy -of living. The moonlit nights of the very last days of January had been -beautiful, but silent and with a chill in them that hushed all vibrant -life and one did not wonder when the morning sun glinted on hoar frost -on all the long grass. There was no frost under this moon of the last -days of February, only a gentle warmth and softness that seemed to woo -all things to life and love. In Massachusetts we are wont to take the -statement that on the fourteenth of February the birds choose their -mates with a somewhat grim smile of forgiving disbelief. In Florida we -know that these are days for all nature to go a wooing, and the voices -that come beneath the late February moon and echo along the winds of -blustering March mornings prove it true. - -It is a wiser man than I that knows the source of all these songs of -love that thrill through the amorous, perfumed air of night. The -fragile, green beauty of the long-horned grasshoppers seems to be -reflected in their night songs that differ in tone from those which they -sing under the searching vigor of the Southern sun. I fancy they needs -must sing differently, and that it is a physical difference rather than -a change of feeling that changes their tune. The soft coolness of the -nights must slack the texture of their wing cases, as damp air changes -the tension of the strings of one’s violin, and they seem to play a -reedier, less strident tune. The Southern cricket that vies with the -long-horned grasshoppers must be larger than the Northern cricket which -chirps so cozily by the October hearth, if one may judge by voices. Nor -is his cry the same, though it has a resemblance. It is rounder, fuller, -and has something of the tinkling resonance of a metallic instrument. - -The songs that came from the grass under the full light of the February -moon were those of an orchestra that sang with silver throats to an -accompaniment played upon bell metal. Yet the sonorous staccato of each -was so blended with the many that the whole melted into a dreamy haze of -harmony that seemed merely to give a clearer expression of the moonlight -of which it was a part. So when Melba sings, the exquisite harmony of -the hundred quivering strings of the orchestra is but the vocal -expression of the hush of the hearts that wait her voice. - -There were other voices under the moon that ushered in March that made -no harmony with the moonlight, but cut across it with a clear -individuality of their own. The frogs that seemed some weeks ago to be -playing tiny xylophones have given up the wooden bars and now play by -night on pebbles which they strike together, making a quaint, -penetrating shrilling which could be done on no other instruments. Where -they get the pebbles, which are not to be found by man in any part of -the State which I have yet visited, I cannot say. Moonlight is rarely -helpful to too literal inquiry. The sound is very musical with a -fairy-like quality. It is as if elves played musical glasses in this -orchestra in which the grasshoppers and crickets are masters of the -stringed instruments. - -Another frog voice is that of the Southern bullfrog, which might better -be named pigfrog, if voices are to count. The Northern bullfrog is a -hoarse-voiced toper who bellows most sonorously for his favorite liquor. -“Ah-hr-u-m!” he roars. “Ah-hr-u-m!” with the accent on the rum. This is -wicked, of course, but there is a rough virility about it which bends -one’s mind towards forgiveness. Here is Jack Falstaff roaring for sack; -Falstaff, the embodiment of coarse wickedness, and yet the best-loved -rogue in the whole catalogue. No such engaging roisterer is the Southern -bullfrog. His voice is but a grunt out of the fairyland which the moon -makes over the misty savanna with its shallow lakes gleaming with -roughened silver. Cased in this silver sits the Southern bullfrog, with -his nose just out, and grunting like a young razorback. The similarity -is startling, or rather it is not a similarity, but the same thing. - -None of these pigfrogs grunted till the full moon of late February had -brought the requisite warmth. Then, one night I heard them, and went -out in search of the drove of pigs that I was convinced was rooting in -the bean patch of my neighbor across the road. The bean patch was empty, -and the voices lured me on, for then I thought them to be young -alligators, which grunt in similar fashion. The alligator hunter when he -wishes to call the big ones sits motionless in the bow of his boat, -under the gleam of his bull’s-eye lantern, shuts his mouth tight, and -with a peculiar motion of the throat makes a ventriloquial grunt that is -much like this, the difference being that the cracker-alligator grunt is -a mournful one that seems to speak of an internal pain, that of the -pigfrog is a three-syllable grunt of porcine content. - -No wonder I thought them young razorbacks eating beans at seven dollars -a half-bushel crate. But I was wrong. It was merely the love calls of -Southern bullfrogs happy in the witchery of glorious moonlight, and the -full warmth of late February which was jumping joy into all vegetation -and into the hearts of all wild things. - -On nights like this the little screech owl likes to sit up in the -palmettos by the house and sing his little murmurous, quavering song. It -is hard to hear anything mournful or foreboding in this, rather it seems -to voice contentment with perhaps just a note of longing when it is a -call for the mate. Sometimes this is answered, the two qualities of -inquiry and reply being distinctly audible though difficult to define. I -think it is the difference between the rise and fall of an inflection. -Another owl voice of the full moonlight is that of the Florida barred -owl. - -The first sound of his “hoo, hoo, hu-hu” is a disquieting one, -especially when near-by. My first hearing of it was near an unoccupied -house, miles from any other, on the bank of the river. Murder had been -done on the place years before and my companion had just finished -telling me about it when in the deep shade of the palmettos, almost over -our heads, a barred owl shouted with his weird, inquiring laugh. It came -the nearest to a materialization of anything I have seen lately. Up on a -stub we soon discovered this big, dark spook of a bird with human-like, -big brown eyes and this disquieting laugh. Soon he sailed on bat-like -wings across the river, where we heard him laughing to himself again and -again in this deep, cynical tone. - -Further acquaintance with the barred owl makes his voice seem less -spooklike. A neighbor of mine has that rarity in southern Florida, a big -fireplace with a genuine brick chimney above it. On the top of this -chimney of a moonlight night a barred owl loves to sit and there hoots -companionably in a subdued, almost conversational tone. He has an eye -out for the main chance, though, for if I watch him from outside while -my neighbor squeaks like a rat in the big fireplace, I see him cock his -head like a flash and glare down chimney with one eye, hoping to get it -fixed on the cause of this invitation to dinner. So far we have not been -able to get him to come down chimney after it. The voice of the barred -owl is a familiar night sound at almost any time of the year in Florida, -but it is particularly prevalent now that the birds are breeding. - -Under such sounds and sights as these fades the full moon of February, -and with March mornings comes a blustering vigor into the trade winds -which blow up from the southeast full of the freshness of salt spray, -driving scuds of clouds that smell of the brine torn from Bahama reefs. -This has none of the rough frigidity of the Northern March wind which -seems to hurl javelins through its uproar, following them with -threatening words. These winds bluster words of good cheer and jovial -invitation and slap your face with scent of roses pickled in fresh -brine. It is as much difference as there is between galloping horses -when the one bears the sheriff approaching with a warrant, the other -your true love with a rose. - -It has taken this bluster of winds to make some birds know that it is -time to sing. We had just - -[Illustration: The gray of dawn on the Indian River] - -a touch of them in late February, and after the touch had passed I heard -my first mocking bird for months. Mocking birds were singing in November -in the northern part of the State, but they ceased when December cold -came in and I did not hear one till that March bluster started them up. -This morning I had but to go out in the gray of dawn to hear golden -melodies from a half dozen, sitting in tops of sapling pines among the -long leaves, swelling gray throats and flirting long tails that remind -me always of the pump handle in the old-time organ loft. I do not know -if it is the power of good example which sets the loggerhead shrike to -singing or not. He rarely gets beyond a few rather insipid notes, before -he sees a grasshopper or some other defenseless creature which he needs -in his collection, and which he proceeds to capture and impale on the -thorn of a sprout in his favorite orange tree. The butcher bird does now -and then capture a small bird and add it to this collection, but I am -convinced that he is not so bad a sinner, after all. Most of his prey is -insects. Looking at my own butterfly collection I have almost a fellow -feeling for him. - -Another great insect destroyer is the little sparrow-hawk which winters -in the savannas in countless numbers. If one would see sparrow-hawks he -should go to a fire. The birds do not flock at ordinary times but may -be seen singly, watching for game much as the butcher bird does. But let -a wisp of smoke appear in the air and you find them sailing in on swift -wings from all directions. As the fire gathers headway in the dry grass -and young pine growth they sail about like bats, whirling down into -dense smoke and darting back again to a perch not far from the fire, -always with a fat, flying grasshopper or other insect driven to flight -by the fire. These they seize in their talons in true hawk fashion and -devour when perched. - -How such small birds--the sparrow-hawk is only ten inches long, no -bigger than a robin--manage to include as many fat grasshoppers as I -have seen one pick as brands from the burning, it is hard to tell. He -who shoots a sparrow-hawk shoots a bird whose main record as a destroyer -of insects outweighs his sparrow killing a thousand to one. But the -sparrow-hawk is hardly a morning singer, though he does sometimes pipe -up “killy-killy-killy-killy,” whence the name in some sections, -“killy-hawk.” - -With the coming of the first spring month I am convinced that the -northward movement of migrating birds has begun. The redwing blackbirds -have already gone, so far as the migrating flocks are concerned. Yet -this morning a redwing sat up on the tree-top and showed me his -handsome epaulette and sang lustily. He was a trifle smaller than the -average blackbird of my northern meadow-side acquaintance and his bill -seemed slenderer. Moreover on the end of his song was just an extra -gleeful twist that changed “konkaree” into “konkareedle” and marked the -difference between the Florida redwing who stays at home in the State, -summers and brings up his children there, and the migrants who are -already on the way to distant Northern swamps. In the same way I heard a -robin singing for the first time. The world has been alive with robins -in huge flocks that scatter during the day and regather at night for -roosting. These are half way home already, perhaps just stopping off at -Washington to see what is doing in conservation legislation, which is a -matter of vital interest to all birds. - -Yet here was a robin greeting the first day of the first spring month -with the good old home song with nary a twist or an extra syllable in -it. It wakened a thousand memories that echoed among gray New England -hills, not yet touched with the green of spring. Yet I smelled it in the -swollen brooks and heard it in their roar; and then the wind was in the -palm trees again and there was only the shout of the salt-laden trades, -heavy with the odor of newborn orange blossoms, and I knew that my robin -was probably one of those that elect to stay behind and chance it with -the summer weather in the far South. - -The March day was a little farther advanced when the meadow-lark chorus -began. Like the robin the meadow-lark breeds from the Gulf to New -Brunswick, but whereas most robins migrate well North, the proportion -seems to be somewhat the other way with the meadow-larks. How their -ground-built nests and eggs escape gliding snakes and prowling opossums -and raccoons with which the savannas are infested I do not know. I have -but to examine the mud along ditch sides of a morning to find it -literally criss-crossed with the tracks of these night prowlers, till it -seems impossible that any ground-nesting bird could escape. Yet the -savannas are full of larks’ nests every summer, and the numbers of them -singing cheerily all about are a proof that the birds are wiser or the -vermin stupider than anyone might suppose. - -The meadow-lark’s song is a sweet little trilling whistle. The neighbors -say that it says, “Laziness will kill you,” and after you have once -fitted these words to it you can hear no other translation. I think they -sing it to each other in gentle raillery, for they are among the last of -the singing birds to begin in the morning. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -IN GRAPEFRUIT GROVES - - -The Spaniards brought the grapefruit to Florida, and left it behind -them. Here it has been ever since, until the last ten or fifteen years -neglected and despised, but taking care of itself with cheerful -virility. It grew wild, or people planted a few trees about the house -for its rapid growth of grateful shade and the picturesque decoration -which its huge globes of yellow fruit furnished. These few people -considered edible. Now we all know better and the North calls for -grapefruit with a demand that this year is only partly satisfied with -four million of boxes. - -Floridians eat the once despised fruit with avidity now and a thrifty -grapefruit grove is already recognized as a profitable investment. I say -a thrifty grove, for all groves are not thrifty. The tree is lavish to -its friends and in congenial surroundings will produce fruit almost -beyond belief. I have seen a single limb not larger than my wrist -weighed to the ground with ninety-five great yellow globes by actual -count. I have seen a whole orchard that had been tended for years with -assiduous care calmly dying down from the top and sinking back into the -earth from whence it sprang. - -More than anything else the grapefruit must have the right subsoil under -it. If you plant your trees where they may be well drained and where the -soil beneath their tap-roots is a good clay, overlaid of course with the -all-pervading Florida sand, they will love you for it. Care and -fertilizer will do the rest, though even then it must be the right kind -of care and of fertilizer. If you plant your trees where there is a -“hard-pan bottom” neither love, money nor religion will bring them to -good bearing. Why “hard-pan” which seems to be a dense stratum of black -sulphuret of iron should be under the surface of one man’s ten-acre lot, -while under that of his next-door neighbor lies the beloved red clay, it -is difficult to explain. Florida reminds me always of Cape Cod. It seems -to be built out of the chips and dust of the making of the near-by -continent, dumped irrelevantly. There is no telling why one acre is a -desert that one would plough as uselessly as Ulysses ploughed the -seashore and the next acre is fat with fertility, but it is so. - -Hence people plant grapefruit groves not where they will, but where they -may, and you discover them in the most delightful out-of-the-way - -[Illustration: “The tree is lavish to its friends and will produce fruit -almost beyond belief”] - -places. Paddling up river one day, ten miles from any habitation, along -a stretch of profuse tropical forest, I heard the cluck of axle-boxes -and a voice said “whoa!” Landing I found that the wilderness was but a -sham, a thin curtain of verdure, and behind it was a stretch of fertile -land covered by grapefruit trees in orderly procession, twenty-four feet -apart each way, twelve hundred of them. This man must cart his fruit -through ten miles of sandy barrens to the train. He might have set his -trees along the railroad so far as cost of land was concerned, but they -would not have grown there. - -Once a week there comes into Fort Pierce a team of eight runt oxen, bred -of Florida range cattle stock, drawing a creaking wain laden down with -orange and grapefruit boxes. Thirty miles across the barrens these have -come, from groves out at Fort Drum, and they will take a load of -groceries and provisions back. It takes six days to make the round trip -and you may hear the team long before you see it. The man who drives -these oxen carries a whipstock as tall as himself with a lash twice its -length, long enough to reach the leading off ox from a position on the -nigh side of the cart. On the end of this lash is a snapper which gives -off a noise like that of a pistol. Hence the Florida woodsman is called -a “cracker,” a name which has come to be applied indiscriminately to -all natives, whether drivers of oxen or not. Thus do we carelessly -corrupt language. The cracker is the man who cracks his whip. Wherever -the woodsman drives oxen you will hear it. - -You find these pretty groves thus scattered in the most picturesque -spots and just to wander in them is a delight. The fruit itself I -suspect to be an evolution from the shaddock, which is a huge, coarse -thing growing on what looks like an orange tree. Just as sometimes out -of a rough-natured human family is born some youngster of finer fiber -who is an artist or poet instead of clodhopper and we can none of us -tell why or how, so no doubt the grapefruit was born from some worthy -shaddock tree and astonished and perhaps dismayed its parents. All are -great globes of pale gold and surprise one with their size and -profusion. How does this close-fibered, tough-wooded tree find in sun -and soil the material to produce such fruit? Here is one ten years old -that holds by actual measurement twenty boxes, almost a ton, of fruit on -a tree that is about fifteen feet high and six inches in diameter at the -butt. It is as if a thumbling pear tree in a Northern garden should -suddenly take to producing pumpkins and bring forth twelve hundred of -them. - -On the Indian River it is the custom to let the - -[Illustration: “Thirty miles across the barrens these have come, from -groves out at Fort Drum”] - -fruit hang until mid-March when the blossoms appear with it, making a -grove a place of singular beauty. Out of the dense, deep green foliage -spring a hundred yellow glows, while all the outside of the tree is -stippled with a frippery of white, a dense green heaven set with golden -suns in crowded constellations and all one milky way of starry bloom. -The scent of these blooms, which is the scent of orange blossoms, -overpowers all other odors and carries miles on the brisk March winds. - -There are other creatures that love the groves as well as I do. The -mocking bird loves to pour his full-throated song from the tip of a -blooming spray, and when the fervid sun of late March pours the whole -world full of a resplendent heat which seems to lose its fierceness in -these golden suns of fruit, caught there, concentrated, and built into a -living fiber of delectability, he builds his nest in the crotch of some -favorite tree. Twigs and weed stalks roughly placed make its foundation -and outer defenses, the hollow being lined with silky or cottony fiber -from wayside weeds. There are so many pappus-bearing plants whose seeds -float freely that he may well have his choice, though if I were he I -should save labor by taking the thistledown from the ditch sides. Here -grow huge fellows whose heads of bloom, as big as my fist, set among -innumerable keen spines can hardly wait to pass through the purple -stage before they turn yellowish and then white with thistledown. For -what else should these bloom if not for the lining of birds’ nests? - -The mocker reminds me so much of the catbird that I had thought to find -their eggs similar, but they are not. The catbird’s egg is a rich -greenish blue without a freckle; the mocking bird’s is a paler, and -blotched about the big end with cinnamon brown. When it comes to -æsthetic standards I suppose the catbird’s egg is the more beautiful, -but any boy will agree with me that the mocker’s egg with its wondrous -blotching is the prettier. The blotching on birds’ eggs is always a -wonder and a delight. I remember the awed ecstasy with which as a small -boy I looked upon the eggs of a sharp-shinned hawk, after having -perilously climbed a big pine in a lonely part of the forest to view -them. They were queer worlds most wondrously mapped with this same -cinnamon brown. In a pelican rookery not long ago I was greatly -disappointed that the huge eggs were merely a very pale, creamy or -bluish white with a chalky shell. The eggs of such masterpieces of bird -life ought to be equally picturesque. - -With the mocker in the groves is the Southern butcher bird. Just as at -first glimpse I am apt to mistake one bird for the other, so when I find -a mocking bird’s nest I am not sure but it is a butcher bird’s till I -have looked it over a bit. The butcher bird’s eggs are a little less -blue of ground color and have some smaller lavender spots mingled with -the cinnamon brown. The nests are lined more often with grasses than -with seed pappus. Outwardly they look the same and seem to be built in -similar places. The butcher bird is as friendly with man as is the -mocker. A neighbor of mine has an arching trellis of cherokee roses over -the walk from his back door to his packing house, and in the thorns of -this a butcher bird has a nest, though the place is a thoroughfare and -the nest almost within reach of one’s hand. The bird has a slender -little attempt at a song at this time of year which I do not find -altogether unmusical. Some naturalist or other has claimed that the -Southern butcher bird squeaks like the weather-vane on which he likes to -sit. I would be glad if all weather-vanes which squeak did it as -musically as this loggerhead shrike in nesting time. It is a thin but -pleasant little shrill whistle, which does not, however, go beyond a few -notes. Then the bird stops as if overcome with shyness, which he might -well be, singing in a mocking bird country. - -There is another bird of the groves which I love well, much to the -indignation of the owners, who pursue him with shot-guns. The Indian -River fruit growers are hospitable to a fault. They will load you down -with fruit as many times as you come to their groves and beg you to come -again and get some more. But that is only if you are a featherless -biped. The little red-bellied woodpecker who comes to the grove for a -snack comes at the peril of his life. Little does he care for that, this -debonair juice-lifter. He comes with a flip and a jerk from the forests -over yonder, thirsty, no doubt. He lights on the biggest and ripest -grapefruit that he can find and sinks that trained bill to the hilt in -it almost with one motion. Within is a half-pint or so of the most -delectable liquid ever invented. The bird himself is not bigger than a -half-pint, the bulk of an English sparrow and a half, say, and how he -can absorb all the liquid refreshment in a grapefruit is more than I -know, but when he is done with it there is little left but the skin. The -number of drinks that a half dozen of these handsome little birds will -take in a day is surprising. It is no wonder the grower rises in his -wrath and comes forth with a shot-gun. But it is of little use. The -living wake the dead with copious potations of the same good liquor, and -the woods are full of mourners. - -I watched one of these raiders drink his fill the other day and then go -forth to a rather surprising adventure. After his drink he flew to the -border of the grove, there to sit for a while with fluffed up feathers, -in that dreamy satisfaction that comes to all of us when full. It lasted -but a few moments, though, then he was ready for further adventures. On -the border of the grove stood a fifty-foot tall stub of a dead pine, its -sapwood shaking loose from the sound core of heartwood, but still -enveloping it. In this rotting sapwood are grubs innumerable for the -delectation of red-bellied woodpeckers who have drunk deep of grapefruit -wine, and to this stub my bibulous friend flew in wavering flight, and -with little croaks of contentment began to zigzag jerkily up and round -it, now and then poking lazily into cracks with his bill and pulling out -a mouthful. Thus he went on to within a few feet of the top. There he -got excited, rushed about as if he saw things. He gave little chirps of -alarm, put his bill rapidly into a crevice and drew it as rapidly out -again, ran round the stub top and dived at another crevice, then came -back, and with a frantic dig and scramble pulled out a six-inch snake, -which he threw over his left shoulder, whirling and wriggling to the -ground. - -It was a sure-enough snake, though of what variety I cannot say. I saw -him, and my own potations had not been deep or of the kind which -produces visions. I dare say he was a grub-eater himself and had worked -his way up through the interstices of the rotten sapwood without -realizing to what heights he had risen. The woodpecker was as surprised -as I was and dashed nervously about for some time. I hope it may serve -as a warning, but people who have the grapefruit habit are apt to be -slaves for life. - -Often tearing through the grove goes _Papilio ajax_. Why this vast haste -in such a place which invites us to linger and dream I do not know. He -looks like a green gleam, flying backwards, a bilious glimpse of -twinkling sea waves. The seeming backward motion is effective in saving -the life of more than one specimen, for it makes the creature a most -difficult one to net. I dare say the butcher birds and flycatchers have -the same trouble and it is a wise provision on the part of nature for -the continuation of the ajax line. - -He often vanishes against the green of the grove as if the working of a -sudden charm had conferred invisibility on the flier. This trait of -flying into a background and pulling the background in after it is -common to many butterflies, who thus prolong life when insect-eating -creatures are about. I had thought that _Papilio cresphontes_ had none -of this power till one vanished before my very nose, seeming to become -one with a big yellow grapefruit, the grapefruit being the one. If I had -been a cresphontes-hunting dragonfly I should have given it up. By and -by I saw what had happened. Cresphontes had lighted on the yellow ball -and folded his wings. All his under side, wings, body and legs, was -clothed in a pale yellow fuzz that was like an invisible cloak when laid -against the smooth cheek of the fruit. Here was the butterfly’s refuge. -No wonder this butterfly haunts the grove. He is one of the largest of -the Papilio tribe, a wonderful black and yellow creature, the veritable -presiding fairy of the grapefruit groves. - -The fruit will soon be picked and the golden suns will disappear from -the deep green heaven. The white stardust of the milky way of blooms -will follow and the groves would be lonesome and colorless if it were -not for these great black and yellow butterflies which will flit about -them in increasing numbers all summer long. I like to think of them as -in their care, waiting my return in the time of full fruit. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -BUTTERFLIES OF THE INDIAN RIVER - - -Where the Bahamas vex the Gulf Stream so that the rich romance of its -violet blue is shoaled into an indignant green that is yet more lovely, -there is a grape-like bloom on both sea and sky. Standing on the islands -that bar the Indian River from the full tides, you may see this bloom -sweep in a purpling vapor from the sea up into a sapphire sky, which it -informs with an almost ruby iridescence at times. The gentle southeast -winds of mid-March have blown this bloom in from the sea and sky and -spread all the landscape of the southern East Coast with it, a pale -blue, smoke-like haze in whose aroma there is yet no pungency of smoke. -It is like the blue haze of Indian summer which often hangs the New -England hills with a violet indistinctness out of which all dreams might -well come true. - -The road down Indian River winds sandily along the bluff always -southward toward the sun. On your left hand you glimpse the blue river -with the island a haze of deep blue on the horizon. It is a dreamy -world to the eastward, full of wild life. In the shallows schools of -fishes flash their silvery sides to the sun. Herons wait, patient in the -knowledge that the river will serve their dinner. The Florida great blue -in all his six-foot magnificence flies with a croak of disapprobation -only when you come too near. Here are the smaller blue herons, in family -groups. _Ardea wardi_ and _Ardea cœrulea_ are fortunate in having no -plumes which are desired of courtesans, else would they, in spite of all -law, have been shot off the earth as have the snowy egrets which once -whitened the Florida savannas with beauty. Yet both are beautiful birds, -and the young of the smaller heron rival the egrets in whiteness. It is -rather singular that a bird that is pure white when young should, on -reaching full maturity, so change color as to be at first taken by -naturalists for another variety, yet such is the case. - -Further out in the shining river frolicsome mullet leap six feet in the -air, not as most fish do with a curving trajectory that brings them into -the water head first, but falling back broadside on the surface with a -spanking splash. Often a big fish will progress three times in the air -thus as if trying out the hop, skip, and a jump of athletic -competitions. Half a thousand feet out in the shallow water are the -spiles of abandoned docks. On these sit the cormorants, black and -ungainly, motionless for hours in the steep of the sun, again plunging -for a fish and flopping back to the perch to be greeted by most amazing -grunts from their companions. Lone pelicans sit slumping down into mere -bunches of sleepy feathers with mighty bills laid across the top. You -see brown-back gulls fishing and above them soaring a big bald eagle, -ready to rob cormorant, gull or pelican with the cheerful -indiscrimination of the overlord. - -Such is the life that you glimpse through the open spaces as you fare -southward toward the sun. But much of the way the river is screened from -your view by dense growth of palmettos. In one spot a rubber tree has -twined its descending roots about a palmetto till it has crushed the -fibrous trunk to a debris of rotten wood and the roots have joined and -become a tree, the tree, while the palmetto that nourished it passes to -make the white sand fertile for the rootlets of the one-time parasite. -Here are hickory and shrubby magnolias and many forms of cactus. Some of -these climb the palmettos, vine-like, to spread the vivid scarlet of -their blossoms high among the fronds. These creeping cacti are like -creeping, thorny, jointed green snakes of a bad dream. The cherokee bean -sends out its crimson spikes of tube-like blooms from leafless stems, -roadside spurges show red involucres, and everywhere you - -[Illustration: - - “A rubber tree twined its roots about a palmetto till it crushed - the trunk to a debris of rotten wood”] - -find the low-growing composite blooms of the plant which produces the -“Spanish needles,” seeds that are spear-like akenes to stab as you pass. - -The white petals of this composite flower are no whiter than the wings -of the great Southern white butterfly that delights in feeding on this -pretty, daisy-like blossom. As the summer comes on, myriads of Southern -white butterflies make the ridge their hostelry and the road southward -their highway. Already they make the road a place of snowflakes, -scurrying on March winds all hither and thither. They are as white as -snow in flight, the tiny marking of black on the margin of the primaries -serving only to accentuate the whiteness. So when they light and fold -the wings the greenish tint of the secondaries beneath is only that -reflected light which becomes green in some snow shadows. They serve to -make the day cool while yet the sun is fervid, and to walk toward it -even at a moderate pace is to perspire freely. Just as snowflakes during -a white storm scurry together in companionship and alight in groups -beneath some sheltering shrub, so toward nightfall when the level sun -just tops the ridge to the westward these Southern snowflakes dance -together and light in drifts beneath some overhanging shrub which -shelters them from the wind. There hundreds wait for the reviving warmth -of the next morning’s sun. - -Stranger than this is the passing of what seem marshaled hosts along -this Indian River road toward the south. The exceptional cold of the -winter has kept the imagos in chrysalid and the rush is not yet on. But -the time will come soon when each day uncountable millions will pass. -Whether this is continued westward into the interior of the State I -cannot say, nor do I know whence they come nor whither they go. Perhaps -some West Coast observer will be able to state whether this flight goes -to the south there or whether the vast numbers round the southern end of -the peninsula and go north again. Last November this same southern -movement was noticeable in the northern portion of the State, about -Jacksonville. In its aggregate it must reach a number of butterflies -which might well stagger the imagination. Butterflies fly easiest -against a gentle breeze. One attacked will go off down the wind at -express train speed, but as soon as his fright is over you will find him -beating to windward again. They hunt, both for food and for mates, by -scent. Therefore against the wind is their only logical course. - -The trade winds blow gently all summer long, and most of the time during -the winter, from the southeast. Hence the butterflies beating against it -come to the coast line and follow it down, swarming the Indian River -road with their - -[Illustration: “The river is screened from your view by dense growth of -palmettos”] - -whiteness. What becomes of them all when they get into the lower end of -Dade County I cannot say. - -But if _Pieris monuste_ and his kin of the Southern whites is most -conspicuous here because of numbers, there are a half-score other -beauties which will soon attract your attention. Of these the largest -are Papilios, the various varieties of swallowtail. Here is cresphontes, -fresh from some orange grove, as large as one’s hand, and of vivid -contrast in gold and yellow. To be watched for is his veritable twin -brother, _Papilio thoas_, just a little more widely banded with gold. -_Papilio thoas_ feeds upon the orange and other citrus fruit leaves as -does cresphontes, but he is the butterfly of the hotter regions to the -south, where he replaces cresphontes. Occasionally he has been found in -the hot lands of Texas, why not in southern Florida? The thought gives a -new fillip to the interest with which I watch. The next turn in the road -may bring him. Time was when cresphontes was found only among the orange -groves of the Southern States. Steadily he has been extending his range -northward until specimens have been captured in the neighborhood of -Pittsburg, and one has since been reported from Ontario. - -Cresphontes and thoas are the largest and showiest of their tribe to be -found in the country. With them flitting as madly and erratically is -apt to be _Papilio asterias_, also a symphony in black and yellow, with -blue trimmings. The asterias is born of a grub that thrives on members -of the parsley family, and you may find his brilliant black and -greenish-yellow stripes on almost any carrot bed, North or South. Poke -him and he will most strangely put out two horns much like a moth’s -antennæ, from some concealed sheath in his head, and at the same time -produce a musky smell wherewith to confound you. Asterias ranges from -Maine to Florida in the summer time and westward to the Mississippi -River. I have found him nowhere more plentiful than here. - -In and out of the tangle of the thicket with asterias and cresphontes -pass two other Papilios, palamedes and troilus. Palamedes might be -described as a larger and more dignified asterias, being nearly the size -of cresphontes, but having wider spaces of clear black on the upper -sides of his wings. His grub feeds upon the laurels and _Magnolia -glauca_, and the butterfly has been known to visit southern New England -though his usual range is from Virginia south. You will easily know -palamedes from cresphontes, even on the wing, by the lack of yellow in -his coloring. Especially is this true of a glimpse from beneath. -Cresphontes rivals the sun in his gold when seen from below, palamedes -is dark beneath with the after wings as gorgeous as a peacock’s tail -with crowded eye-spots of orange and blue. It is rather interesting to -note that, handsome as most butterflies are on the upper sides of their -wings the under sides far surpass these in gorgeousness, as a rule. I -have often wondered why. - -Last of the Papilios I have met on the ridge I note with satisfaction -good old _Papilio troilus_ of Linnæus. There are many names with which -one conjures in the butterfly world,--Scudder, Holland, Edwards, Cramer, -Grote, Boisduval, Strecker, Stoll, Doubleday, and a score of others, but -none that so touches one’s heart as does that of the Father of Natural -History. To him came the beautiful things of the young world and -received their names, as the animals are fabled to have passed before -Adam and Eve. Surely none of the creatures that he named were more -beautiful than this butterfly. In him the flaunting yellows are not -found. Instead on the black foundation are spotted and stippled most -wonderful shades of peacock blue touched modestly with a spot of crimson -for each wing. Here is a fine restraint in coloring that shows harmony -rather than contrast and puts the more gaudily painted members of the -genus to shame. In the grub stage the favorite food of _Papilio troilus_ -is the leaves of the sassafras and spicebush, food through which any -caterpillar might well grow into beauty and good taste. - -These big swallow-tail butterflies certainly add romance and beauty to -the road that leads sunward down the Indian River. At times, in certain -favored spots the air is full of their rich beauty, now hovering in your -very face, again dashing madly into the depths of the jungle or -vanishing in mid-air as all butterflies so well know how to do. In the -grub stage it is not difficult to know on just what they feed. In the -butterfly form I am satisfied that during the first few days after -emerging from the chrysalis they are so busy mating that they do not -find time to feed. At this stage they dash most wildly and nervously to -and fro, seeking always and never quiet for a moment. Later the mood -changes and you may find them clinging to some favorite flower so drunk -with honey and perfume that you may pick them off with the fingers. - -The world just now is full of orange blossoms and heavy with their odor. -The honey from their yellow hearts is to be had for the asking and the -bees are so busy that the trees fairly roar with the beat of their -wings. Yet if I were butterfly or bee I should pass the heavy-scented -groves for a flower which just now blooms profusely on the ridge. That -is the Carolina Laurel-Cherry, commonly called at the South, “mock -orange,” This has indeed a lance-ovate, glossy, deep green orange-like -leaf, but the bloom reminds me more of that of the clethra. Like the -clethra too it has a most delectable perfume, dainty and sweet as -anything that grows in the South and far surpassing in light and -seductive aroma the heavy perfume of the groves. The odor of this shrub -floats like pleasant fancies all along the dusty ridge road and -continually wooes all that pass,--insects and men alike. - -Nor are the Papilios all the bright-winged butterflies of the ridge. -Here flies the zebra, his long, almost dragonfly-like wings rippled with -black and yellow bars that seem to flow over them as he flies like -dapple of sunlight on a black pool. The zebra is a lazy fellow. Compared -with most other butterflies he fairly saunters along. I fancy that if -one of those long-tailed skippers, or even one of the silver-spotted, -that both frequent the same groves, were to find him on their mad track -they would telescope him. - -The Papilios seem to be the butterflies of the higher air levels. You -are more apt to find the zebras flying head high and the skippers still -lower. Perhaps this usual difference of air strata is why those -collisions do not take place. Lower still, flitting among the very herbs -at your feet are other, beautiful if smaller, varieties. Out of the -shadows of the foliage come most awkwardly the spangled nymphs, pleased -with the sunlight, yet scared in a moment into fleeing awkwardly back -again. Of these I note commonest _Neonympha phocion_, the Georgian -satyr, singularly marked underneath with rough ovals of iron rust in -which are blue-pupiled eyes with a yellow iris. Here, too, is _Neonympha -eurytus_, as common North as South. - -There are many more butterflies that one may see in a day’s tramp down -river in this enchanted land. This day has left with me, as one most -vivid impression, the memory of a little patch of trailing blackberry -vines whose white blooms are larger and more rose-like than those of -Northern hillsides. Upon the patch had descended a snow squall of white -butterflies till you could not tell petals from wings, or if it was -flowers that took flight or butterflies that unfolded from the fragrant -buds. Other spots were dear with tiny forester moths, most fairy-like of -thumbnail creatures, the flutter of checkered black and white on their -wings making them most noticeable. Once out of the deep shade of the -thicket a painted bunting flew and lighted in full view, showing the -rich blue of his iridescent head and neck, the flashing green of his -back and wing coverts, the red of his under parts. I know of no other -bird whose colors are at once so gaudy and so harmonious. He was like a -flash of priceless jewels. No wonder he keeps these colors in the -shelter of the thickets as much as possible. The hawk that catches a -painted bunting must think he is about to dine on a diadem. - -So through all the vivid warmth of the long day flit these bright -creatures of the sun, and the mysterious bloom of tropic seas blows in -with the wind that sings in the palmettos. All tempt one to fare farther -and farther south in search of greater enchantment. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -ALLIGATORS AND WILD TURKEYS - - -Out in the wild country to the westward of the St. Lucie River the winds -of dawn mass fluffy cumulous clouds along the horizon, and the morning -sun tints these till it seems as if a vast golden fleece were piled -there to tempt westward faring argonauts. Thither I journeyed for nearly -a day, the slow trail ending in a land of enchantment fifteen miles -beyond the nearest outpost of civilization. Most of this trail led -through the dry prairie where short, wire grass grows among widely -scattered, slim pines, the slimness seeming to come rather from lack of -nourishment than youth, for the soil here is but a thin and barren sand. -Then the earth beneath us sank gently and the water rose till the good -sorrel horse was splashing to his knees in water that was crystal clear -and that deepened in spots till the hubs rolled on its surface. Schools -of tiny fishes darted away as we splashed on, bream and garfish, bass -and sea trout, spawned no doubt in some branch of the upper waters of -the river and venturing onward in companionable explorations wherever a -half-inch of water might let their agile bodies slip. - -We were on the border of “Little Cane Slough,” and we fared on -amphibiously thus some miles farther, coming at last to the country of -islands which was our destination. In the geology of things Florida was -once sea bottom, having been pushed up by a fold in the earth’s strata -which made the Appalachian mountain range. The giant force which raised -these mountains thousands of feet high was nearly spent when it came to -this part of the country and barely succeeded in getting the State above -high tide. Thus the waters subsiding slowly made no extensive erosion. -Yet they did their work and Little Cane Slough was once a river of salt -water flowing out of the surgent State. In its slow, broad passage, the -flood took some surface with it, leaving a bare, sandy bottom in the -main free from any hint of humus in which vegetation might grow. In -other spots it left the surface mud in higher islands of unexampled -fertility. - -Some of these islands are scarcely a hundred feet in diameter. Others -measure a half mile or so, but all to-day are covered with a dense -growth of vegetation from grass and shrubs to mighty trees of many -varieties. Hence you have an enchanting mingling of shallow, clear -ponds, grassy and sedgy meadows and wooded islands, a country which all -wild creatures love. The place is marked on the map as a lake. There are -years and times of year when it is that, then drought reaches deep and -the only water you can find is in the alligator holes into which fish -and alligators both crowd till these tenement districts are much -congested. - -The sun which had started behind us in our westward race for the golden -fleece of cumulous clouds outdistanced us and sank to victory among -them, big and red with his running, but we camped on one of these -thousand islands. You may venture into haunts of the alligator without -fear. I doubt if there was ever a time when the largest of them would -attack a man, certainly the few that are left wild have a wholesome fear -of him and you must be stealthy of foot and quick of eye to even see -one. - -Twenty years ago fifteen footers promenaded from one deep hole to -another, and their broad paths, worn through the thin surface of -fertility, are left still, the grass not yet having found sufficient -foothold to obliterate them. Rarely does one make trips like that -to-day. They all stick too closely to their holes, and so cleverly are -these placed that a screen of bushes or rushes conceals - -[Illustration: “My first glimpse came at one of these places”] - -the saurian when he is up sunning himself, and he has but to plunge to -find safety. - -My first glimpse came at one of these places, a deep pool surrounded by -a growth of flags. Close beside this was a bushy island, and in one -corner of the island was a smaller pool not over a dozen feet in -diameter. Between the two, half screened by the bushes, lay Mister -Alligator enjoying a mid-afternoon nap, but a nap in which he slept with -one eyelid propped up. One gets so used to scaly monsters in the Florida -woods, rough trunks of scrub palmettos that continually simulate saurian -ugliness, that it took me a moment to see him, even when my companion -pointed him out. Surely there could be nothing of life in that inert -stub. But even as I looked there was a most prodigious scrambling of -clawed feet, a swish of a tail so big and husky that it seemed to wag -the alligator, and he was in with a plunge, not into the big pool as I -expected, but with a dive into the little one beneath the bushes, an -action that let me into one of the secrets of alligator housekeeping. - -A good part of that afternoon and pretty nearly all of the next day I -spent, with my companion, who has been intimate with alligators for many -years, in wading, often waist deep, in the sunny, clear, tepid water, -from one alligator hole to another, and in that way I learned much of -the real life of the beast. A grown alligator is a huge and -formidable-looking reptile, but so great a fear has he of man that you -have but to show yourself and say “Boo!” and he will make the water boil -in his frantic endeavors to escape. You may go swimming in his private -pool if you will and he will crowd down in the mud of its deepest hole -to escape you. Only when cornered and continually prodded will he show -fight. Then he may bite you with his big mouth or club you with his -bigger tail, but it will be only that he may get an opportunity to get -away. There is much interesting fiction about alligators that eat -pickaninnies or even grown-ups, but I do not believe it has any -foundation in fact. - -I found several alligators’ nests, big heaps of thin chopped reeds, -dried leaves and rubbish, in which in midsummer the eggs are laid, white -and with a tough, leathery skin, about as big as a hen’s eggs. Last -year’s eggshells still linger about these nests. The heat and steam of -the sub-tropical swamp hatches the eggs without further trouble on the -part of the mother. She, however, stays not far away and if you wish to -see her you have but to catch one of these lithe, wriggly youngsters -after they are hatched and pinch the tail. The squeak of pain will -usually bring a rush from the big one, though even then the sight of a -man is enough to send her back again in a hurry. The young alligators -are born - -[Illustration: “The heat and steam of the sub-tropical swamp hatches the -eggs without further trouble”] - -on the banks of the pool in which their mother lives, and they need to -be agile else their father will eat them. As for food, every alligator -hole that I have visited swarms with fish. - -Getting the sunlight just right on one of these alligator swimming pools -I have seen, besides great store of small fishes swimming about the -margin, hundreds of broad bream schooling in it, while bass and garfish -two feet long lay in the deeper parts. So far as fish go the alligator -need not go hungry. Often, too, he may get a duck or a heron, coming up -with a snap from beneath the surface before the bird has a chance to -rise from the water. I have seen a raccoon floundering and swimming in -the shallows, his diet no doubt mainly fish, and he himself liable to -capture by the alligator. - -But the inner domicile of the alligator is not in the big pool. It is in -the lesser one, and from this he has an entrance to a cave he has dug in -the earth far beneath the bushes. Often you may prod in this cave with a -fifteen-foot pole and not touch the reptile, so deep does it go. This is -his refuge, his hiding-place. In time of danger or in cool weather he -may lie at the bottom of it for days at a time. When he comes out again -it is most circumspectly. He floats craftily just to the surface and -lets his nostrils and his eyes, which are placed just right for this -feat, come above the surface, while all the rest of him is submerged. -If you are familiar with alligators you may recognize these at a -considerable distance; if not you will surely think them floating bits -of bark or rubbish. Yet in time of low water this very refuge of the -animal is his undoing. The alligator hunter comes to the pool armed with -a long iron rod with which he jabs and prods till he finally drives his -quarry to the surface to his death. Sometimes this iron has a hook on -the end with which the reluctant beast is hauled out. Such hunting means -close quarters and is not without excitement. - -In times not long past, this sort of pot-hunting was much followed. Now -the hunter most often “jacks” for his game, paddling at night with a -bullseye lantern attached to the front of his hat like a miner’s lamp. -The beast in stupid curiosity watches the gleam of this light and the -hunter sees it reflected from his eyes. Curiously enough, you may see -this reflected glare well only when yourself wearing the lantern. You -may stand beside the man wearing it and never get the reflection, -however he turns his head. The reason for this, no doubt, is that the -eyes of the watching beast are focused on the light alone and hence send -its rays directly back. Now and then the jack-hunter grunts mysteriously -from deep within himself. This ventriloquism is supposed to be an -imitation of the call of a young alligator and is used to lure the old -one. - -But not for fish and alligators merely is this bewitching country of -islands set in the middle of Little Cane Slough. Here are innumerable -flocks of the Florida little blue heron, ranging in numbers from three -to fifty, wading and feeding mornings and evenings, resting at midday on -tops of dead stubs, where the young birds, still in white plumage, are -most conspicuous objects. The bald eagles that had ten bushels or so of -nest in a big pine just east of our camp must find these birds easy -game. Nor are the white youngsters, seemingly, unaware of this. Their -blue elders often sit hunched up, asleep, but these hold the head erect -and crane the neck this way and that, as if perpetually wondering whence -trouble might come. Among these birds I saw for the first time the -change of color from youth to maturity, from white to blue, going on. -There were birds in the flocks that had blue backs and wing coverts -while still white underneath. - -All about among these islands are well beaten trails of other creatures -than alligators. The range cattle make some of them, but not all. In -some you may see the duplex-pointed hoof-marks of deer. Some are -scratched out by the hurrying claws of raccoons. In many, along the -grassy edges I found the wide, dignified print of that king of wild -birds, the wild turkey. Long and stealthily I prowled these trails -hoping to come upon this majestic bird when feeding and thus see him at -his work, but in this I was unsuccessful. The turkey feeds mainly in -early forenoon and late afternoon, not leaving his perch as a rule till -the sun is above the horizon, lurking among the bushes on high ground -during the heat of the day, filling his crop again before sundown and -flying heavily to his roost before dark. Just now his food is mainly -succulent new grass with which he fills his crop until it will hold no -more, fairly swelling him up in front like a pouter pigeon. There were a -gobbler and two or three hens near-by--how near we were not to suspect -until later; but we saw only the trail of these, not a feather of them -did we glimpse, follow their tracks as we might. - -It was late in the afternoon and we were a mile and a half from camp -when we heard the first turkey voice. It was that of a lone gobbler and, -just by chance, we stopped knee-deep in the grassy lagoon on the margin -of an island which held his favorite roost, a limb of a big pine -standing among deciduous trees. To this, from the other side he came. No -doubt he had been picking grass on the other margin of the lagoon in -which we stood, now he was headed for home and calling. - -At this time of year there are great battles between gobblers for -possession of hens. This gobbler seems to have been a defeated and -compulsory bachelor, yet he gobbled away as if a whole barnyard was at -his back, lifting his twenty-five pounds of live weight with rapid beats -of his short, strong wings from the ground to lower limbs, thence higher -and finally to his roost. Never yet, I believe, grew a more magnificent -gobbler than this one, scorned of the fair sex though he was. The level -sun shone upon his bronzed feathers till the radiance of their beauty -fairly dazzled, seeming to flash from him in molten rays as if from -burnished copper. He looked this way and that for those missing hens -that surely ought to be lured into following such radiance. He gobbled -to right and he gobbled to left in mingled defiance and entreaty, but -there was no reply. Then he strutted and displayed all his magnificence. -He spread the wide fan of his copper-red tail, drooped his wings till -they hung below the limb and puffed out all his feathers, silhouetted -against the pale rose of the sunset. Then he said “Pouf!” once or twice -in a half-hissing, sudden grunt that sounded as if it came from the -bunghole of an empty barrel. It had that sort of contemptuous hollow -ring to it. This he varied with gobbling for some time. If afterward he -put his head beneath his wing and forgot his loneliness in slumber I -cannot say, for the south Florida sun whirled suddenly beneath the -horizon and took his roses and gold with him. The night was upon us and -only the thinnest of new moons lighted our way in the long splash back -to camp. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -EASTER TIME AT PALM BEACH - - -Man has set Palm Beach as a gem in a jungle, which is itself as -beautiful in its way as the nacre of the oyster in which we find the -pearl. The gem is cut and polished till all its facets and angles flash -forth not only their own brilliancy but the reflected glory of all -around them. These blaze upon you from afar and draw you with a promise -of all delights till you stand in their midst bewildered with them. The -beauty of the surrounding jungle you must learn little by little, for it -does not seek you, rather it withdraws and only subtly tempts. Yet when -you come away you do not know which to love most, the gem or its -setting. And all this you find upon a ribbon of island between the muddy -blue of Lake Worth and the unbelievable colors of the transparent sea -beyond. Unlimited resources of wealth have brought from the ends of the -earth tropical trees and shrubs and set them in bewildering profusion. -Wild nature in the setting, the landscape gardener in the gem, have done -it all. - -Not so long has man been banished from Eden that he need feel lonesome -on returning. Here is the air that breathed over that place in the old -time floating in over the miraculous sea, seemingly transmuting its -swift-changing coloration into a symphony of perfume that now soothes in -dreamy languor and again stimulates to the delight of action. Bloom of -palm and of pine are in it and the smell of miles of pink and white -oleanders that grow by wayside paths. There, too, is the mingling of a -score of wee, wild scents from the jungle, and beneath it all the good, -salty aroma distilled by the fervent sun of late March from crisping -leagues of sapphire sea. It prompts you to breathe deep and long and -look about with proprietary gladness as Adam and Eve might could they -return for Old Home Week and tread again the well remembered primrose -paths. - -To appreciate fully this garden redivivus one must not dwell in its -midst too long. Had Eve been permitted to come only occasionally, there -had been no dallying with the serpent. I dare say those unfortunates who -reach the place in December and do not leave it until April get to look -upon its beauties with as lack-luster an eye as that with which the -home-tied New Yorker looks upon Fifth Avenue. I have known Bostonians to -pass the gilded dome of their State House, and go by way of the Common -and Public - -[Illustration: “There, too, is the mingling of a score of wee, wild -scents from the jungle”] - -Garden through Copley Square into the Public Library without looking -about and expanding the chest. Such a condition does familiarity breed. - -There is a fortunate refuge from too much Eden at West Palm Beach. You -may on the outskirts of this now beautiful hamlet see how little aid the -earth may give in the building of a beauty spot. Here is the same -barren, sandy ridge which one learns to expect on his first progress -inland from any point on the East coast. Here grow rough-barked, dwarf -pines of small stature, all bent westward in regular arcs from root to -top as if yearning inland from their birth. Thus has the steady force of -the easterly trades inclined them. The everlasting saw palmetto grows -about their roots, and little else. Yet, so pervasive is the spirit of -good example that the West Palm Beachers, going back to their barren -land from across Lake Worth, have taken heart, and seeds and slips of -blossoming shrub and vine, have brought or made soil, one scarcely knows -whence or how, and made their West Palm Beach wilderness blossom in -miniature like the Palm Beach rose. - -Here are tiny fenced-in gardens all about little unpretentious houses, -gardens which are soft with turf underfoot, stately with palms overhead, -and all between bowered with purple bougainvillea and violet bohenia, -and passion vine and allamanda, almost, indeed, all the beauties of The -Garden over yonder. There is none of the stateliness that space alone -can give, but the shrubs and vines crowd lovingly together, till one -might well wonder if Adam and Eve did not plant something of this sort -just beyond the flash of that flaming sword and perhaps learn to love -the home they had found better than the Eden they had lost. - -You may, if you will, go westward still from this ridge and get into -another land of enchantment, the borderland of the Everglades. Here a -road winds from one saw-grass island to another across Clearwater Lake. -It is a region of marsh plants, of cat-tail and pipewort, of purple -bladderwort and wild grasses and sedges, where nestling blackbirds make -love with a boldness that might put the flower-margined walks of The -Garden to the blush, and where you may look into the wayside ditch and -see big-mouthed bass waving their square tails as they move leisurely -off into deeper water. To plunge from the barren ridge into the marsh -district is like going from the sackcloth and ashes of Lent into the -full awakening joy of Easter. Here the Florida wilderness itself marks -the season of the revival of life and joy, and with nothing more vividly -than the cypress. - -[Illustration: The “traveler’s tree” in a Palm Beach garden] - -On the farther margin of Clearwater Lake the ground rises a bit into -cypress swamp. All winter these close-set, gnarled trees have held bare -and knotted, writhing arms to Heaven in mute repentance for misdeeds. -Gray Spanish moss alone has draped them, waving in the winds most -lugubriously. The water has been warm about their roots, the sun has -steeped them in its heat that has kept the water gay with bloom of -bladderwort and sagittaria and pickerel weed, yet the cypresses have -held aloft their sackcloth moss and stretched their arms skyward, -unforgiven, while the trade winds mumbled prayers in the gray gloom of -their twining limbs. Now--it seems all of a sudden--the richest and -softest drapery of green has hidden all their bareness as if they had -taken off the sackcloth and put on the joy of forgiveness and new life. -Spring green is always beautiful. It seems to me as if the cypresses -must have picked their shade from the softest and richest of colors that -soothe the eye in the shoaling sea outside. They are vivid indeed -against the rising land beyond, where flatwoods pines and saw palmetto -hold sway again in grim monotony. - -A day of this and you are ready again to pass the gateways and seek The -Garden with senses once again hungry for its delights. One’s self seems -to belong in this scheme which simulates the primitive joy of the -earlier, happier days of the world. Often one cannot be so sure of the -rest of mankind. The animal creation takes it as a matter of course. The -black and white “raft” ducks that are common on the Indian River, yet -fly before you get within gunshot of them, here in Lake Worth linger -boldly about the docks and hardly move aside for chugging motorboats. I -look daily for some fascinating descendant of Eve to call them up to eat -out of her hand. Why should they here fear a gun? Adam never had one. In -all my wanderings in palm-shaded walk and flower-scented jungle I saw no -predatory bird or beast. It is easy to fancy that the serpent was -banished with our first parents. Tiny lizards only, dash like scurrying -brown flashes along the hot sand from one thicket to another in the -denser part of the tangles of wild growth. A thousand glittering -dragonfly fays flit on silver wings along the paths which the -blue-throated, scurrying swifts cross. - -Benevolent Afreets frequent The Garden and the jungle path at all -points. In the days of Haroun-al-Raschid these used to gather princes up -in mantles and bear them noiselessly from point to point. Here the -mantle has become a wicker-basket wheel-chair, but the Afreets are in -the business still and all along paths you see them passing, silently -bearing one or two passengers. A dollar wish will bring a bronze -magician to your service for an hour and you glide majestically on air -the while. You may be irreverent of tradition if you will and dub the -Afreet and his conveyance an Afromobile, and say the air on which you -glide majestically is but so much as is included in the inner tube of -pneumatic tires, but the effect is the same. - -But man! the sentence of banishment must still be heavy upon him, for he -seems to me to tread The Garden somewhat fearfully, his glance over his -shoulder expectant of another writ of ejectment. Often he pokes about -with a grim solemnity which is much at variance with the laughing face -of all nature. Very likely these are the newcomers who have not yet -learned that from Paradise are barred all vengeful spirits. Man has been -out so long that the habit of watchfulness and distrust is not to be -lost in a day. You see none of this on the faces of children. They are -from Paradise too recently to have forgotten. - -Over on the bathing beach where beryl waves break on the amber sand -these children play like fluffy sprites of foam blown inland from the -spent waves, as much a part of the place as the fleets of rainbow-tinted -nautilus that have made port on the same sands. Youth too belongs. -Stretched in the shadow of a boat lie two, as lithe and keen of outline -as the sea gulls that swoop outside the line of breakers, they two a -part of Paradise, soothed into immobility with the gentle spell of the -place, reminding one for a fleeting moment of a paragraph from “Ben -Hur.” Yet the throng which must represent Mankind, with a capital M, -melts in no such harmonious way into the symphony of sea and sky. These -old ones have been away too long to fit into the place when they come -back. Shorn of the world glamour of the tailor and haberdasher, the -hall-marks of pelf and power, they are as grotesque as the satyrs of the -time of Pan might be. Here is incongruity personified. Fingy Conners in -fluffy ruffles and tights, Fairbanks in fleshings, or if not these some -others just as good, go down to the sea in skips, and the breakers roar. - -It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of picturesque adventure on -the place. Here are the bold beach-combers of the tropic world come to -add storm-tossed beauty to The Garden. The cocoanut is the adventurer of -all seas, born of salt and sand on the wave-worn shore it matures, clad -in a brown, elastic, water-defying husk that will bear its live germ -whithersoever the waters will take it. The storms that tear it from the -yielding stem and toss it in the brine send it on through scud and spin -drift, to currents that drift lazily to all shores. The breakers that -roll it up - -[Illustration: “It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of -picturesque adventure on the place”] - -the beach and bury it under driftwood are but planting it, and when in -its own good time it germinates the tough fiber of its endogenous stem -defies all but the fiercest hurricane. Here at maturity it will bear two -hundred nuts a year to adventure further on all tides. - -It is these trees that give the place its rightful name. They spring in -stately, swaying rows along all the shore. They line the paths on either -side with the gray columns of their trunks. The mighty fronds touch -above your head and make swaying shadows on the way, as the leaves -rustle in the easterly trades and the rich nuts fall to the ground for -all. As Adam may have done, so you may do, pick the ripe fruit from the -ground, beat the husk from it, bore a hole in the one soft spot at the -stem end and drink the cool and delicious milk for your refreshment. -Thousands of these nuts lie on the ground ungarnered save by the thirsty -passer. Seed time and harvest are one with them and young fruit, -acorn-like in size and appearance, grows at the same time that the ripe -nuts are falling. You may find any size between at any time. - -The cocoanut trees are beautiful, picturesque and romantic. You might -well call them stately, yet there is a touch of the swashbuckler about -each that forbids you to call them dignified. They should be the patron -tree of buccaneers and wild sea rovers, and one cannot look upon them -without peopling the strand beneath them with such gentry. The lawless, -sea-roving life of the South Seas is theirs as it was that of Bluebeard -and Teach and Morgan and Pizarro. They add to Eden a spice of -dare-deviltry that makes it doubly dear. - -Far different are the royal palms, the trees of kings’ courtyards. I saw -but four of these in The Garden. They stood apart, erect columns as -smooth as if built out of gray masonry for fifty feet in height. You -would sooner think this smooth but unpolished gray granite than wood. -Miraculously from the top of this stone column, which swells outward as -it progresses upward, then recedes as slightly, grows a green stem for a -distance of a fathom, from the top of which spread the majestic, leafy -fronds. Such columns should grace the stone palaces of the Pharaohs. So -stately and impressive are these that I never see them but I fancy that -they stood thus as pillars to the gateway by which stood the angel with -the flaming sword, while our first parents fled with averted faces, -outward. - -At Easter time The Garden blossomed with white stems of femininity, -bearing aloft Easter flowers of gorgeous millinery. The violet of -bohenia blooms, the purple of bougainvillea, the soft pink and pure -white of blooming oleanders were all outdone and the butterfly-like -flowers of hibiscus nodded and poised unnoticed as these passed by. Yet -I saw three things outside The Garden that typified Easter to me with -far more potentiality than these. One was the green of repentant -cypresses in the gray swamp at the back of Clearwater Lake. Another was -a cactus in the jungle on the outer rim of The Garden. Here was a -stubborn thing, its oval, dusty, lifeless joints hideous with thorns. -Seemingly nothing could give this thing life or beauty. It stood in arid -sand, and rough, dusty ridges to seaward shut off even the reviving, -purifying winds. Yet the time came and out of the very thorns sprang a -wondrous, yellow bloom of satiny-cupped petals that was more lovely than -any flower of sweetest wood in any rose garden in the world. Butterfly -and bee that had so long passed by came to this and caressed it, nor -could anyone remember the thorns or the hideous crooked joints for love -of the beauty of this Easter bloom. - -Best of all I remember, over in the flatwoods, a young, long-leaf pine -that had for a week been growing altar candles for the season as is the -way of such trees. Only this tree in its love could not stop there. From -every spike it grew on the right and the left exultant buds that made of -each candle a little cross of pale bloom, lighting the little lonely -tree in the level waste with a glorification and chaste beauty that -made the worshipful onlooker forget all else. Nor in The Garden, nor in -churches, nor even in the hearts of men has there grown, I believe, a -lovelier or more acceptable Easter offering. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -INTO THE MIRACULOUS SEA - - -Flying southward by rail from Palm Beach one immediately leaves behind -tropical gardens and enters semi-arid wastes. The contrast is most -vivid. The traveler feels like Es-Sindibad of old who thus was -transported by magic, or perchance by an Afreet or the talons of a roc, -from king’s gardens to deserts, and anon back again. The dream of -yesterday was of stately palms, of richly massed foliage plants, of -broad-petaled flowers tiptoeing for a butterfly flight, of softly -perfumed breezes and man and maid in rich garments wandering joyously -among it all. The reality of to-day is sand and saw palmetto and dreary -wind-bowed, stunted pines, and dust and desolation. - -Only by thus plunging back into bleakness can you realize what man and -climate have done, working together, to redeem the wilderness from -itself. By and by the arid levels of sand change to equally arid levels -of rock. The coral formation which is the backbone of lowest Florida -here rises to the surface, showing everywhere in minute, multitudinous, -interlacing mountain ranges of gray that snarl the surface with ridges -and peaks a foot high, entwining craters a foot in diameter. In the -craters only is soil and in these grow tired and dusty saw palmettos. -The railroad builders, seeking earth to put about the ties, have scooped -the dirt out of these near-by craters, leaving the surface pitted with -their yawning mouths till, looking down upon it at the stations, one is -reminded of the moon’s surface as seen through a good-sized telescope. - -I say stations. These imply man, and here you find him, working in his -own small, patient way with the climate for the redemption of the land. -It may be that new gardens like those of Palm Beach are to be “wrested -from the stubborn glebe” here and eventually make the wilderness blossom -like the rose, with it. Certainly such gardening is done by main -strength. Dynamite and sledge and pick are the tools and vast walls of -rock surround such acreage as is partially subdued. They plant orange -trees by blowing out a hole with dynamite, filling it in again with such -soil as may be purloined from potholes and setting the young tree in the -middle. - -What these trees are going to do when their roots fill these submerged -flower pots and clamor for more soil I cannot say. The country is very -young yet and may solve its own problems as it - -[Illustration: Into the miraculous sea] - -goes along. Between the ribs in this bony structure of the State lie -little parallels here and there of real soil. Here again is man at work. -He plants these tiny prairies with tomatoes, peppers, egg plants and -other tropical vegetables in the dead of winter, whispering, I have no -doubt, many prayers to his patron saint for luck. If his prayers are -answered his harvest is bountiful and his reward great. Great also is -his risk. Winter frosts may nip his budding vines and hopes, winter -flood may drown them in the saucer-like prairies; and even the -summer-like climate may be his bane, tropic thunder showers sometimes -bringing hail which beats his garden to a frazzle and leaves it for -hours under an inch or two of noduled ice. - -The courage of the pioneer is proverbial. It seems to me that of the -Dade County pioneer ranks as high as any. His land may some day be -beautiful. To-day it is the stretch of purgatory which lies between one -paradise and another, for through it one passes from Palm Beach down -into the miraculous sea. - -Even as far north as the play garden of the money gods you have wide -glimpses of the miracle. There are days at Palm Beach when the sea is -simply the sea as one may know it at Atlantic Beach or Nantasket, -magical and mysterious always but lighted by no miraculous inner fires. -Again there come times of tide and sun when a wonder of color wells up -from its depths, when it amazes with inner glows of gold and green and -azure, and fires the skyline with smoky purples. Their subtle beauty -lingers with you long after other impressions of the place have passed, -a memory that is a promise of delight, the lure which the Gulf Stream -scatters far toward the cold waters of the North. Circe has all who see -it within the slender, elastic bonds of her magic and the lure of it -will never be withdrawn. He who with seeing eyes has known the call must -some day come back to the very source, or die dreaming of what it must -be. - -You get the first look at this as your train slides off the mainland -onto the first key and it flashes upon you again and again as you pass -from one islet to the next or roar by some tiny bay where cocoanut palms -lean over waters for the describing of which language has yet no fit -words. Someone has said that in the building of North America all the -chips and dust left over were dumped off shore and thus Florida was -made. If so the sea which bathes its southernmost tip of coral islands -must surely be formed from the dust of all gems that have been put into -the ground for mines since the world was first conceived. - -Here by the very railroad is a shallow lagoon, dredged out by the -builders for all I know, whose color is the semi-opaque, -semi-translucent white of pearls. Another has no hint of these gems of -the sea but is a deep topaz. Anon the free tides wash the embankment -with waves of mother-of-pearl that leap from shallows of a blue so soft -and pure that to look upon it is to cry out with happiness. The heaven -of poets and founders of loving creeds can have no purer hue than this. -Beyond again the sea deepens through shining purples into sudden shoals -of emerald and jade, that bar it from the distant stretch of the horizon -where the depth and richness of the violet blue are a joy that is half a -pain so deeply does it stir the soul. - -I have said this sea is made of dust of all gems. It is more than that. -It is as if it were steeped with all dreams of purity and nobility, all -holy desires and longings unutterable, here made visible to the eye of -man in miracles of translucent color. The memory of it stays with you as -does the memory of music that has stirred the soul to such happiness and -dear desires that the eyes are wet with wistful tears at the thought. - -The eye finds the land of the keys little but a repetition of the dusty -purgatory through which the train has brought him to the place of -dreams. The rock-ribbed foundation is the same, though the vegetation is -more luxuriant and varied. The palmettos seem to give up the struggle to -maintain a hold upon the slender soil as you swing in bird-like flight -from islet to islet, and to be replaced in part anyway by the -slender-stemmed silver palm, which looks a bit like a spindling scion of -a noble race. The red wood of the royal poinciana trees is everywhere -visible, and these in the blooming season make the favored spots a flame -of crimson fire. Beneath is a wild tangle of shrubbery, whose components -are hardly to be differentiated in passing. Where clear beaches of coral -strand rim round some opalescent bay the cocoanut palms feather the -ground with shadowy fronds. - -Along the side of the railway are to be seen the tall palm-like stems of -the West Indian papaw, and one can but think that the negro laborers who -made the grade have planted the seeds of the well-loved fruit, so -regular and persistent are these rows, which stand up like grotesque -telegraph poles along this railroad which, as we flee onward from key to -key, more and more impresses one with the might of a dominating idea. - -At the water-gaps in the flood of color are dredges and pile-drivers -sturdily repairing the destruction which the West India hurricane of the -previous autumn wrought on these seemingly indestructible foundations. -Where the two miles and more of concrete viaduct is expected one finds -the train running gingerly on piling and marl - -[Illustration: “By and by the road leaves the embankment and winds -totteringly out on piling”] - -refilling, the supposed everlasting foundation having been ripped out in -a night by the wind and sea. Men cling like birds to slender staging or -insecure foothold, swaying to one side to let the train pass, then -swaying back again to go on with their work. Through the piling beneath -race the sapphire tides, and to lose hold for a moment is to be drowned -in a suffocating transparency of miraculous color. - -A lean, knob-muscled navvy, who has been half-comatose, slumped in an -awkward heap in his seat, rouses to the hail of these men as we pass, -and becomes excited over the work. He explains that he has been in the -hospital for five months, and is just on his way back to the job. The -hurricane took his tent from over his head while he was eating his -dinner, picked him up bodily and hurled him against a pile of railroad -iron, breaking a leg and other bones. Some of his fellow-workers -suffered similarly, some disappeared utterly, drowned in the -opalescence, such toll does the sea take when man penetrates her -mysteries too boldly with his puny strength. - -Yet if man’s strength is puny his mind is bold, daring as the sea -itself, and one appreciates that as the train spins on. By and by the -road leaves the embankment and winds totteringly out on piling, far into -the very sea itself, while above loom mighty concrete buttresses -carrying a bridging of railroad iron on steel trestles. A little later -it crawls beneath these trestles in the mighty space between two -buttresses and as one holds his breath in suspense comes to a stop on a -dock at the western tip of Knight’s Key. Beyond that the railroad in the -sea is still in a measure fluent in the minds of its originators and -builders, not having fully crystallized in concrete and iron. You sail -thence four hours or more over the miraculous water, viewing as you go -the fragments of this labor of titans slowly growing along key after -key, waiting yet to be fully pieced together, till you make port beneath -the friendly harbor lights of Key West. - -The cleansing tides and the east winds which surge perpetually over the -island keep the city of twenty thousand inhabitants serenely healthy on -Key West, without wells or sewers, paving or street cleaning. Walking -along the dusty streets where shack-like wooden houses are piled -together in that good-natured confusion which marks the usual West -Indian town, one does not go far without having a sudden impulse to -shout with delight, for soon all roads lead to the verge of the island, -the rich, soothing breath of the trade winds and a glimpse of the -miraculous sea. You may come upon this sight as often as you will, you -will never get over the sudden stab of the delight of it. - -If environment is the matrix of beauty the - -[Illustration: “As one holds his breath in suspense the road comes to a -stop at the western tip of Knight’s Key”] - -inhabitants of this favored isle should in time rival the gods and -goddesses of mythology. That they do not is probably because not enough -generations have succeeded each other in these surroundings. The -creatures that have been longer and more intimately born of these coral -keys in this bewildering sea have caught its colors. You have but to go -down to the docks to see that. Here the local fishermen bring in out of -the surrounding tides fishes as rainbow-hued as the waters from which -they are taken. - -Perhaps the commonest fish of the Key West docks is the common “grunt,” -a variety which seems to correspond in habits and size with our Northern -cunner or salt water perch. As “hog and hominy” is derisively said to be -the mainstay diet of the Florida “cracker,” so “grits and grunts” is the -favorite food of the Key West “conch.” Yet look at the amazing little -fish! His gaping mouth is orange yellow within, his tail the same color. -His main color is light blue traversed with narrow lines of brassy spots -mingled with olive. Beneath he is white. His back is bronze and a dozen -bright blue lines on his head are separated by broad, brassy marks. Here -is the amberjack, as long as your arm, a vivid silver with amber tints -and a gilt band from his eye to his caudal fin. Here is the angel fish, -named as well I fancy for his coloring as his shape, which latter is -much that of a conventionalized, flat angel with fins which somewhat -humorously represent long folded wings. - -If you will go to the docks you may look over the edge and see big, -semi-submerged boxes containing scores of these swimming freely, waiting -for the call to go up higher. This too is a blue fish with broad yellow -margins to the scales, making a scheme of color as a whole that is quite -as miraculous to the Northern eye as the sea from which it is taken. It -is as if the wonderful blues and greens and sapphires of gem-like -transparency which the sea suggests, though it is a thousand times more -beautiful than these can ever be, had been by long years of association -transmitted to the fishes which swim about in it. - -But the one vast, continuing marvel is the sea itself. Never for one -hour of the day is the magic of its coloring alike; always each new -phase is more wonderful than the last. Within its heart of mystery are -continually born new dreams that pulse in nascent beauty to the rhythm -of its tides, quivering to the mind of him who looks upon them with all -fond longings and the bliss of noble desires. He who is privileged to -see it must be base indeed if it does not call some answering glow from -within him. - -[Illustration: Gathering turtle’s eggs on a Florida beach] - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -DOWN THE ST. JOHNS - - -The everglades, which on the later maps of Florida are concentrated in -the southern tip of the peninsula, there hardly conceded to extend as -far north as Lake Okeechobee, as a matter of fact do flow in certain -favored localities much farther north, well into the middle of the -State. Up through St. Lucie and Osceola counties run one “slough” after -another, wide depressions which in any but the driest weather are -shallow, sand-bottomed lakes filled with numerous and beautiful wooded -islands. - -In the driest of weather these are deserts of white sand with tiny ponds -innumerable all about in them, alive with concentrated schools of fish. -It takes long drought to make this condition. A single good rain will -set the fish free to roam clear water for mile on mile, and where before -the rain the alligator hunter walked dry shod, afterward he must wade, -knee deep or waist deep as the case may be. In the height of the rainy -season, say in July, I believe a man could make his way in a canoe up -the St. Johns and on without touching bottom till he slid off the lower -end of Dade County, having traversed the entire peninsula by water. He -would, of course, have to know his way, as probably no man now knows it, -but I believe the water is there. A good part of all Florida, in fact, -emerges in the dry season, which is the winter, and submerges for the -rest of the year. You may hoe your garden in January and row it in July, -raising tomatoes in one season and trout in the other. - -There is a project on foot which glibly promises to drain the -everglades. Several dredges are lustily digging ditches through which -this flood water is supposed to drain rapidly off some thousand square -miles of level, clay-bottomed sand. To look at these tiny machines -merrily at work on one hand and the area of water they attack on the -other is to smile once more at the Atlantic Ocean, Mrs. Partington and -her mop. - -So the St. Johns River, the one large river of the State, rising on the -map as it does in Sawgrass Lake, on the lower edge of Brevard County, -not a dozen miles from the East Coast and the Indian River, really draws -its water, during a part of the year at least, from the everglades -themselves. In that it is to be congratulated, for the water of the -everglades is beautifully clear and pure. There are bogs and mud in the -everglades, to be sure, but in the main their water falls straight from -heaven and is caught and held in shallows of white sand that might well -be the envy of a reservoir of city drinking water. The little city of -West Palm Beach draws its water from one of these shallow everglade -reservoirs, and has thus an inexhaustible supply, which analysts have -pronounced pure and wholesome. - -But if the lake bottoms of southern Florida are thus pure and send only -clear water down the St. Johns, the condition of clarity does not last -long. The St. Johns, as the tourist knows it, from Sanford to -Jacksonville, is a dark and muddy stream that winds through an -interminable succession of swamps, miry and forbidding at the surface, -but brilliant above with foliage, flowers and strange birds and beasts. -Beyond these swamps are higher ground and many pretty villages, groves -and farms, but one sees little of this from the river. Except for the -occasional landing, the occasional razorbacks and range cattle, one -might as well be coming down the stream in the days before Florida knew -the white man, and the river’s only boats were the narrow, artistic -dugouts of the Seminoles, built by fire and hatchet from a single -cypress log. - -Through the energy of many bold real estate men and many patient -gardeners Sanford is rapidly becoming known to the world as “The Celery -City,” a title once held alone by Kalamazoo, Michigan, though it might -well have been disputed by Arlington, Massachusetts. If you travel back -and forth enough in Florida you can come to know certain spots in it, -spots favored or otherwise, by their odors, also favored or otherwise. I -know haunts in the upper part of the State toward which the fond, free -scent of jasmine will lure you through many a sunny mile of stately, -long-leaved pines, themselves giving forth a resinous aroma for a solid -foundation on which the airy jasmine scent is built. - -Farther south where the jasmine hardly dares the beat of the summer sun -the orange groves send out messengers that beguile you through long -distances in the same way. None of these calls you to Sanford. There the -homely fragrance of crushed celery leaves drowns all else and salutes -your appreciating nostrils from afar. I am told that Sanford people -carry these odorous bunches of translucent golden-green beauty at -weddings just as other, custom-bound folk carry bride roses, but I think -the tale is persiflage. Certainly you have but to step from the train -there in April to be accosted by a demure and smiling young woman who -says, “Won’t you try some of our celery?” holding up a tempting stalk or -two, “We grow celery here and we are very proud of it. We want all -strangers to taste it and see how good it is.” - -This is an excellent custom, both for Sanford and the strangers. I have -been to places in the North where mine host, who produced verses, always -proffered me these, to read or to hear, soon after my arrival. I much -prefer Sanford. - -Aside from its celery, which should be glory enough, one of Sanford’s -other claims to fame is that it is at the head of steamship navigation -on the St. Johns. Here you embark on an amber-watered lake which is but -the river, grown wide and lazy for a time. If you were to ask me for -Florida’s most astounding characteristic I might hesitate, but I should -eventually decide that it was the great number of fish which frequent -its shallow waters. Looking from the Sanford dock as you go down to -embark you see the sunny shallows full of schools of bream and in the -deeper places, much bigger and a little more wary, other schools of -“trout,” as the Floridians insist on calling the big-mouthed bass which -swarm in all fresh waters. Farther down stream you may amuse yourself -with watching the big silver mullet which here seem to teem in all -brackish waters, leaping, sometimes five or six feet in air, then -falling back with a resounding splash in the wave as if they like the -spank of the water on their scaly sides. - -To name all that one sees on an April day while the boat surges round -the curves of the lazy river might well be to write a catalogue of the -commoner wild things of Florida, and a good many of those not so common. -The paddle wheels suck the water from in front of the boat and the tide -there falls a foot or two in a minute, for a minute. Then the hill of -water thus heaped up behind rushes in again to fill the hollow and makes -a miniature tidal wave. Creatures of the shallows are thus suddenly -bared and again as suddenly flooded to fright and a hasty escape. The -big Florida blue herons, standing in immobile alertness on the brink, -are less alarmed at the approach of the steamer than by this fidgeting -of the tides. If you will watch ahead you will often see one of these -great stately birds bend his head and stand in astonishment at this -falling off, then as the leaping wave splashes him give a croak of -terror and flap rapidly away into the woods, to light in a big cypress, -now all feathery green with new spring foliage, and stab the air this -way and that with his keen beak, not knowing which way further to flee. - -The fish crows, who have little fear of anything, croak humorously to -one another at this. Having a frog in the throat so often has got into -the fish crow’s voice and made his croak catarrhal, but nothing can take -away his sense of humor which always sounds through his talk. I notice -behind the St. Johns River steamers the fish crows playing the part of -gulls, following in the vessel’s wake and hovering to daintily pick -refuse from the dangerous waves. The gull lights and feeds; the fish -crow is ruined if the water reaches his wings, but he hovers perilously -near the troubled surface and picks out his morsels, just the same, with -plunging beak. _Corvus ossifragus_ is courageous as well as humorous. In -my first acquaintance with him I was inclined to hold him in light -esteem, as a weakling and a trifler compared with his bigger, more -saturnine relative, _Corvus americana_, but he wears well if he is -light-minded. - -I had come to think that all the large alligators left in Florida were -in captivity, where, tame and most wooden in appearance, they dream -their lives away. Yet in mid-afternoon, roaring down the St. Johns on -this river steamer I came upon the finest specimen that I have seen -anywhere. As the steamer shouldered by a bush-lined bank the negro -helmsman leaned far out of the pilot house, yelling and pointing. “Hi!” -he said, “look at dat big ol’ ’gator.” Right on the bank facing us he -lay, black, knobby and ugly as sin, his only retreat the water in which -the paddle wheel was thrashing within a dozen feet of his nose. - -Then indeed I saw one alligator that was like the old-timers that used -to line the river in favored spots. They said he was twelve feet long. -He surely was ten, and active. Wakened from his siesta in the scorching -April sun he glared at us with very evil eyes, opened his big mouth, -showing stout, yellow teeth, and plunged right down the bank at us, -going in with a great splash. Alligators are said to have a great fear -of man and it is commonly reported that you may bathe in their swimming -pools in the utmost safety, even at dinner time after a fast day. That -may be. I know this big, old, black one looked as if he ate river -steamers for luncheon and came down the bank as if he were about to do -it. However nothing happened to prove it. Later on we saw another one, -not quite as large, lying asleep on the bank. His stomach was greatly -distended and he did not even wake up as we passed. I fancy he had just -finished his steamer and was too full of it and contentment to bother -about us. - -A prettier sight by far as the steamer rounded another curve was a group -of black vultures on the bank. These had been feeding and were too -plethoric to fly. Vultures are usually reckoned disagreeable objects, -but there was nothing unpleasant in these birds. They were sleek and -black and plump enough to be barnyard fowl in a giant’s hennery. Another -curve disclosed another group, but here was something to astonish at -first sight. Half these vultures were white, with longer legs and -necks, a different bird altogether, yet all feeding in a group. If you -could mate a black vulture and a white heron the resulting progeny might -be such a bird as this. Primaries, secondaries and tail were glossy, -greenish black, the rest of the bird was white. The head and neck were -bare like a vulture, and the group took flight together, the white birds -going into the air with the black ones, and soaring about in the sky -later in much the same sort of circling, flapless flight. Here they -looked like big white water turkeys, their legs stretched heron-wise -behind their fan-shaped tails, their necks stretched forward like that -of a water turkey when flying, a thing a heron never does. - -After all the answer was easy. Bird gazing on a roaring St. Johns River -steamer, I had chanced upon a flock of birds of a variety that I had not -before found in all Florida, the woodland ibis. They remained -contentedly soaring in the heavens with their black friends as long as I -could keep them in sight from the steamer, with a glass. It was a -curious group, too, these long-necked, long-legged birds soaring like -crazy cranes with the sedate, graceful vultures. - -Nightfall catches the steamer still churning the dark waters down -winding walls of forest, now and then stopping at a rough dock which -represents some invisible town. The water gets black and the wilderness -ahead blends with it, while the goblin-like voices of Florida frogs -sound from the swamps. I would hate to be lost in a Florida swamp over -night. There are more strange voices there that gasp and gurgle and -screech and choke than anywhere else in the world. By and by the sudden -shaft of the searchlight leaps ahead, transforming a single -ever-changing circle into fairyland walled within impenetrable murk. - -Never before was a forest so green as that which this light penetrates -till trunks and foliage bar it off. Never before were tree-trunks edged -with such quivering rainbows and built of such corrugated gold. On any -stump, once black and slimy with decay, now coruscating with jeweled -light, might well sit a fairy with wand, transparent wings, and -diaphanous garments of green and gold. You get to watch, breathless, for -this as the rich circle slides on and on down the bank ahead or jumps -like rainbowed lightning to another side or shoots far ahead along a -straight stretch of river, perhaps firing with smokeless splendor some -crazy dock or ancient river-bank house. - -The scorching heat of the sun is gone and the river damp wraps all -things in a coolness that is grateful to the wearied skin. The boat -glides forward into white river mists, out of which fly wonderful winged -creatures of the night. These, invisible in the darkness, become -spirits of fire in the white shaft of the searchlight, up which they fly -to the lantern itself, then vanish again. It is the moth and the flame, -only there the moth is the flame itself, a winged, magical creature of -gold, fluttering in a rainbow-tinted white light that has called it out -of the black invisibility. It is no wonder that many of the travelers -sit up all night. These have their reward, for they see the sudden sun -flash all the white river mists with fire, through which they glide up -to a magical city, which after all is only Jacksonville, the end of the -route. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -HOLLY BLOSSOM TIME - - -A swoon of heat and blue tropic haze brings holly blossom time to -northern Florida in mid-April. In this haze the distant shores of the -St. Johns slip away until the silver gleam of the water seems to lift -them and toss them over the horizon’s rim, out of sight, making a -boundless sea of the placid river. The thermometer climbs with the day -into the eighties and stays there till the sun is well on his way down -again. The noon weather has the dog-day feel of a New England August and -gives little invitation to exercise in the full sun. - -It is then that one is apt to give thanks to the great oaks which grow -upon all the high hammock land and whose glossy green leaves and pendent -masses of gray moss shut out the sun. Here in a druidical twilight one -may roam in safety and near-comfort following the quaint odor of the -holly blooms to the trees themselves. The oaks are mighty of trunk but -soon divide into proportionately mighty limbs that lean far over the -road till the moss that swings down from them is like banners swung -across city streets in holiday decorations. Often the wild grapes, now -with tender, crinkle-edged leaves two-thirds grown, swing in stout ropes -across the street too, from one oak to another, and all these are also -hung with the moss flags till they make the gloom grayer and deeper and -in spite of the festive suggestion one half expects in the duskier -corners to see the stones, the flash of the sacrificial knife, and hear -the eerie chant of the elder priests. It takes the cheerful holly to -remove this impression. - -Compared with the oaks the holly is a Noah’s ark tree, with one central -shaft from roots to apex and numerous short, slender limbs that shape -the outline into a modified cylinder. At Christmas time this cylinder -was of dense, dark green with red berries giving it a ruddy glow in all -shadows, as if ingle-nook embers glowed therein. The stiff, -prickly-edged leaves stippled the whole into a delightful decoration -that has become hallowed by conventional association. - -Now the tree is different. The dark green of the Christmas foliage is -still there, but from all twig tips have sprung shoots of new leaves -that have not yet known their set prickers, but light the dark surface -with a wayward sprinkling of tender color which is but the green of the -old leaves grown joyous and youthful in the new. Sitting on the new -wood are tiny clusters of flowers, each very prim and proper with four -divisions of the white corolla, four stiff stamens set between and -holding yellow heads at exact angles. All this should be as conventional -as the Christmas decorations, but it is not. The waywardness of youth -has got into the blood of the holly and the new sprigs are as jaunty and -as airily conscious of the joy of living as any shrub you will find in a -league of flat-woods and swamps. - -Even the perfume of the holly blooms is wayward and just enough -different in its originality to make you wonder if you will not come to -dislike it, and then fall in love with it while you test it. The -unobtrusiveness of the holly blooms is proof of their good taste, for -this jaunty waywardness of the exultant spring does not appear till you -come to know them well. - -One looks in vain for the blooms of the jasmine in this region now. Six -weeks ago they crowned all wild tangles with golden yellow and made -cloth of gold all along the sunny forest aisles. Now all this bloom is -gone and the jasmine, grown strangely wise and industrious, will do -nothing in the fervid heat but climb in twining slenderness over new -routes and plan flaunting displays of beauty for another winter-end. The -wild cherokee roses, that shamed the gold with the purity of their -white, have done better. There are hedgerows still starred with their -beauty, but even these are passing and the stars are but single where -once they marked a milky way of scintillant white. But the woods have -other beauty to tempt the wayfarer into their aisles. In places they are -green with the leaves of the partridge berry and the twin blossoms, I -think a little larger than those I find on Northern hillsides in summer, -send forth the same delicious scent. - -In lower grounds the atamasco lilies have trooped forth to stroll here -and there in the woodland shadows. Fairy lilies the people here call -them, and Easter lilies. Fairy lilies they might well be. They spring -from a bulb and show no leaves to the casual glance, only a dainty lily -bloom that is pink in the bud, pure white in maturity, and pink again as -it fades. The fairy lilies seem to thrive most where the cattlemen burn -out the underbrush each winter. Their tender purity springing from the -blackened stretches under the great pines is one of the dearest things -imaginable. Sometimes you may stroll a mile with these stars tracing -constellations on the dark vault at your feet. - -On the margins of the oak hammock where thickets slope to the swamps the -wild smilax races with the grapes, and all among these the viburnums and -the dogwoods have set cymes of softest white. Above these still climbs -the wild sweet honeysuckle of the South, _Lonicera grata_, its fragrant -white tubes turning yellow with age, and now and then a high wall of -green foliage is all hung with bead-like decorations of the coral -honeysuckle, giving it a curious, gem-like effect in red and yellow. -Viewing these things, less obtrusive but equally beautiful, one is -inclined to forget his regret for the vanished jasmine yellow and the -pure white of the passing cherokee roses. Behind it all, looming toward -the high sky line of the swamp in such places is the feathery softness -of the new cypress leaves, delicately fluffed in the softest tints of -pure spring green. Young cypress leaves are more like feathers than any -other leaves I know. Collectively it seems as if they had as much right -to be called plumage as foliage. - -It is at this time of year that the frost weed slips shyly at first into -sandy dooryards, and later makes them all gold of a morning with crowded -heads of clear yellow flowers. With these two comes the phlox, almost -unnoticed among low-growing herbs till it blooms. Then some morning the -dooryard begins to blush and by night has grown all rosy with pink and -purple flowers, a heterogeneous assortment of shades that blend -nevertheless in a pleasing whole. Such marvels does April build out of -sand and sun and rushing rain that has hardly time to fall so eager is -the sun to be out and at it again. - -More than flowers does this scorching midday sun bring out. It always -seems as if under its potency the little green chameleons were drawn up -as blisters from the herbage on which they like to rest. Once you get -the shape of the motionless, finger-long creature in your eye you may -note that it is that of an alligator whose tail fades indistinctly into -the leaf or twig. But while the alligator is repellent his tiny, -leaf-textured prototype fascinates, and it is easy to see how the desire -to make pets of chameleons originated and grew till the law had to step -in and put a stop to the wholesale cruelty which the practice -engendered. He looks at you with such gentle, bird-like, bright eyes -that you inadvertently reach out to stroke him. Then he gives you an -example of his kind of thought transference. Surely the wee legs of the -creature never could have moved him like that, but he has gone like the -flashing of a thought to a place out of reach where he eyes you, as -bright and immobile as before. - -In Mark Twain’s heaven people wished themselves from one part to -another, traversing limitless space in no time. So evidently it is with -the chameleon. - -This tiny lizard sleeps in pale green with an immaculately white under -side, a most charming nymph’s nightdress. Pale green too is its fighting -color, and when badly frightened the green suffuses its entire body. -Often in bright sunlight this green changes to a rich, dark brown, a -color which makes it look so much like a twig as to defy the eye to find -it until it moves. Yet I doubt if this change of coloring is so much a -matter of protective instinct as we have been taught to believe as it is -a matter of temperament and emotion. The animal seems to sleep, fight -and run away in pale green. When let alone, unsuspicious and basking in -the full sun, this color is changed to the brown, and if you will watch -the change take place you will see some interesting variations into -golden yellow, slaty gray and even a peppering of white dots on the -back. Gentle and lovable as these creatures seem, the males have tiny -battles which are quite tempestuous within teapot limits. At such times -they protrude queer, inflated neck pouches and bite and thrash about -with great agility and vehemence, the combat often ending in the -vanquished leaving his twisted-off tail in the mouth of the other while -he wishes himself to safety in the crevice of some dead stump. Then the -victor struts with the trophy in his mouth, his neck pouch distended and -his brightest green showing more vividly than ever. - -This loss of the tail does not seem to be a serious matter with -chameleons and other small lizards, indeed the appendage seems to be a -sort of customary final ransom paid for bodily safety. It twists off -with comparative ease and the lizard merely goes without it until -another, stubbier one grows in its place. - -They are queer folk, these little Florida lizards. Another variety is -known quite properly as the “five-lined skink” when young. Colloquially -it is the “blue tail,” from the color of that part which is a bright and -beautiful blue. The body is then black with five stripes of vivid -yellow. This coloring fades, the blue last, as the creature grows old -till finally you would not know the beast. In maturity it is the -“red-headed lizard,” its olive brown, ten-inch whole including a big -head which is quite brilliantly red. This lizard the neighbors call a -“scorpion,” and assure me it is deadly poison, with the accent on the -deadly, though I fail to find any record of injury coming from contact -with it. Its blood-red head gives it a rather raw look and I fancy that -is all there is to it. To be repulsive is to be dangerous; that is a -common fallacy. - -If I were to see a “red-head” coming toward me with his mouth open I am -quite sure I should run, though where or why I cannot imagine, for the -skinks can wish themselves from one place to another just as well as the -chameleons. Like the chameleons they battle and lose their tails, and it -is no uncommon thing to see a couple fighting, whirling and scrambling -among the leaves like nothing in the world unless it is a snake in a -fit, or a goblin pinwheel made of a blur of whizzing tails and a red -blotch in the center. - -But enough of these uncanny creatures. The woods are vibrant with bird -voices, local and migrant. Vireos warble in the tree tops, white-bellied -swallows twitter as they soar and swoop, red birds whistle till the very -dogs run hither and thither, believing they have a hundred masters all -calling them at once. Mocking birds mock, not so much their bird -neighbors as me. I stalk them for this and for that old friend, for this -and for that stranger, only to find half the time that it is just Mister -Mocking Bird sitting on a twig on the other side of the orange tree and -looking as soulful and demure as if he had not just finished cackling -with elfin laughter at my mystification. - -He is a rare old bird, this mocker, and you come to love him more and -more as you know him better. Even now though he fools me and mocks me I -am ready to swear that he never did it. He was just singing heavenly -melodies without any thought outside of the pure and noble joy of -living. As for imitating other birds, I am convinced that it is no such -thing. They learned their notes from him. They tell me that mocking -birds sing more and better in September than they do in April. This, I -dare say, is true, though listening to them in April I do not see how it -can be. - -When the grateful coolness of the evening comes fast with the -lengthening shadows the mocking birds carol their friendliest -good-nights. The sun goes down in a flame of red as vivid as the color -of the scarlet tanager which I heard in the pine tops at noon, warbling -his cheery, robin-like notes through an air that quivered with gold and -green, and was sticky with the aroma of pitchy distillations. The sun -was the original distiller of naval stores. It is quite plain that he -taught the Jacksonville millionaires the way to wealth, leading them by -the nose, so to speak. The silver river of the morning is for a time a -plain of burnished copper through which the sun burns a long straight -trail of fire that vanishes into the blue mists of the distance. Up this -trail flies the copper burnishing and the blue mists follow after, -leaving an opaque mystery of darkness, an unknown, unexplorable country -where was the river. Shadows well up in the orange groves, blurring the -long aisles between the trees, while the mocking birds and red birds go -to sleep with their heads under their wings. Silence has fallen on the -cheery voices of the day, and out of the mystery of the darkness come -the sourceless noises of the night. - -Out of grass and shrubbery flood the shrill pipings of myriads of -insects, beings that exist for us only as voices. The thought gives -them neither body nor location. It is as impossible to guess the -direction whence the noises come as it is to find the creatures -themselves. They are but a million infinitesimal shrillnesses merging in -an uproar that nevertheless soothes and lulls. From the gray void where -by day there was a river come other voices, they tell me those of frogs. -These swell in rattling gusts up out of silence and down back again, an -unmusical clangor as of drowning cowbells struck harshly. These should -be mechanical frogs with brazen throats and tense cat-gut tongues, made -in Switzerland, frankensteins of the batrachian world, wound up and -warranted for eight hours, to make such eerie, disquieting music. To -turn your back to the river and walk inland along the dim, uncertain -aisles of the orange groves is to escape this and meet pleasanter if -still mysterious voices. - -From dusk till the full blackness of the moonless night wipes out all -things below the tree tops the Southern whip-poor-will sings. The voice -is less shrill and insistent than that of our Northern whip-poor-will, -does not carry quite so far, is less of a plaint and more of a chuckle. -Some Southern people say that the bird says, -“Dick-fell-out-of-the-white-oak,” others “Dick-married-the-widow.” Both -phrases seem to recognize a humorous quality in the tale the bird has to -tell, far different from the lonely “whip-poor-will.” Best authorities, -however, seem to have agreed that “Chuck-Will’s-widow” is the most -accurate translation. It is easy to fancy that Will’s widow is buxom and -still young, and that to chuck her--under the chin, of course--would put -a mellow gurgle into any night bird’s note. At any rate the gurgle is -there, and though the voice ceases in complete darkness the first crack -of dawn lets it through again, and we lose it only when the red-bird -chorus begins to pipe hosanna to the new day. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -IN A TURPENTINE CAMP - - -The white sands of the Florida coast seem like the pearly gates drawing -reluctantly together behind the departing traveler. The winter has -rolled up like a scroll behind him, enfolding pictures of delights so -different from those which a Northern winter could have given him that -it seems as if for him the ages have rolled back and he is our father -Adam stepping forth from Paradise, while his eyes still cling fondly to -beloved scenes. The swoon of summer is on all the land which lies blue -beyond those pearly gates and the soft odors follow like half-embodied -memories. - -Strongest perhaps of these and most gratefully lasting is the resinous -aroma of the Southern pines which clothe the level peninsula in living -green from Tampa to the Indian River, from Fernandina to the Keys. In -the coolest of winter days this odor greets the dawn and lingers behind -the sunset, and though the stronger scent of flowers often overpowers it -for a time it is always there, a permanent delight. Now the fervid heat -of the sun is distilling this from all barrens, for the sap is exultant -in the trees and all the turpentine camps are in full swing. - -People who regret the turpentine camps set the day not far ahead, in -three years or in five, when the smoke of the last still will have -vanished and the ruthless ax of the woodsman following will have cut the -last tree for the second-quality lumber which the turpentine-bleeding -process leaves behind. Others say the end of the trees is something like -the end of the world. It has been prophesied almost since the beginning -and has never yet happened. Certain it is that turpentining is to-day -being carried on within a few miles of Jacksonville, Florida’s principal -city, just as ruthlessly as it was a dozen years ago, and though the end -of the world has surely come for the trees in certain tracts, in others -they still give up amber tears of resin under the wounds that are -re-opened weekly that they may continue to bleed. - -Young trees grow where the old ones have been taken out and in many a -once-ploughed field stands to-day a young growth that will soon be big -enough to yield a “crop of boxes.” It takes but fifteen years of growth -under favorable circumstances to make a tree large enough to be -profitable. From the time such a tree feels the ax of the turpentiner -until it ceases to bleed profitably may be several years, three at -least. Then if let alone it does not die. The sun which draws rich -aromas from the resin on the long scar leaves behind a seal of hardened -pitch which closes the wound and beneath such bark as is left the sap -rises still to the nourishment of the leaves above. After a few years -the man may come back with his ax and again draw revenue from new wounds -that cut through the yet untouched bark. Another “crop of boxes” -extending through more years depletes the final vitality of the tree. -After that its value is measured only by the worth of the sap-drained -lumber remaining in its trunk. - -The Chinese taught the world the first rudiments of the uses of -turpentine. As one follows one art of modern civilization after another -to its source, it is surprising how many of them came from the far -slopes of eastern Asia. It seems sometimes as if the Chinese had grown -old in the arts before we of the Western world began to know there was -any such thing, old and forgetful of most of them but still having -lingering traditions on which we base our first halting experiments. -Through them came to the shores of the Mediterranean in the unremembered -ages the knowledge of the uses of the oil and the gum of the -terebinthine tree, a rudimentary knowledge which modern chemistry has -expanded into a science which touches all arts, from portrait painting -to pavements, from sanitation to seamanship. - -Without the distillations from these stately trees of the Florida -barrens the forward march of the world’s progress would go on somewhat -haltingly and for that reason if no other we may well hope that their -destruction may never be accomplished. That conservation must take the -place of destruction is already the cry, and the regulations which would -bring this about would not seem to be difficult to enforce. Methods -which improve the product and prolong the life of the tree are already -coming into vogue from economic reasons. Legislation prompted by these -is already discussed. The awakening of an æsthetic sentiment which will -save to Florida one of her chief beauties, the endless groves of stately -trees where one wanders as in a mighty-columned temple filled with -incense burning upon the altars of the wood gods, may well do the rest. -The world needs turpentine and Florida needs tourists; wisdom may well -be justified of both. - -The old, crude method of the turpentine maker was to “box” the tree near -the ground, cutting a considerable cavity in the trunk into which the -sap might drip and collect. Then above this is cut a wide scarf going -just beneath the bark into the sapwood, a scarf whose upper edge draws -down into a point in the middle. In our great-grandmother’s day young -children wore short flaring skirts and projecting white garments -beneath, the lower edges of which were cut into saw points. Looking into -the gold-green depths of a Florida pine wood which is being turpentined -you catch the flash of these white garments beneath the skirts of the -forest as your train rushes by, and you smile. Here is all the world in -pantalets. The flitting perspective flips these before your eyes in -bewildering changes till you recall the lines of one who sang-- - - Oh, had I lived when song was great, - And legs of trees were limber, - And ta’en my fiddle to the gate - And fiddled in the timber! - - * * * * * - - Old elms came breaking from the vine, - The vine streamed out to follow. - And, sweating rosin, danced the pine - From many a cloudy hollow-- - -and you make sure that the days of old Amphion have come again. Here are -the stately trees that buttress this solemn temple of the deep pine -woods, doing a weaving maypole dance in pantalets. Surely this could -happen only in an American forest. - -The pitch sweats from the wood in curdy white cream and imperceptibly -flows down into the boxes cut for it in the base of the tree. When -these boxes are full appear stalwart negroes, often fantastically clad, -dipping the accumulated pitch into buckets and filling casks that are -drawn by solemn mules, whose faces are so inscrutably stupid that they -appear wise with an elder, satyr-like wisdom. - -The negroes, in the freedom of the old wood, lose the veneer which -civilization is giving the race and work with a care-free swing. Often -you hear them in the distance singing some song that lilts and croons, -that ignores the studied interrelation of tonic and sub-dominant, that -has neither beginning nor end, but chimes in its minor cadences with the -music of the wind in the tree tops. It might well be impossible to -reduce such songs to the bonds of modern notation. It is a music that -grew in the marrow of the race before tunes were invented--a music grown -sad and fragmentary now, I fear, but surely that which Amphion learned -and to which the free-footed trees danced in his days. The negro of the -pineries is careless, often brutal, always happy-go-lucky, but the men -who employ him say that he works well with right management; in fact, is -the best labor that can be had for the place, and that the business -would not know what to do without him. He surely fits the scene and one -would be sorry to miss him from it. - -The old crude method of boxing the trees is, fortunately, rapidly -passing and in the place of the great hole cut in the base of the trunk -one often passes through miles of trees that have flowerpot-like -receptacles hung beneath them to catch the pitch. This means a cleaner -product, longer-lived trees and greater facilities in handling. It means -that when fire sweeps through the barrens as so often happens the blaze -will not get down into the heart of the tree and destroy it. Before this -trees which were boxed deeply would hold the fire in their light-wood -hearts till it had eaten them out and the stately columns, reeling and -sagging drunkenly, would finally fall in ruin, leaving but a burnt-out -crater where once they stood. - -The mule teams bring the casks of pitch to the still on creaking wagons. -The big copper, flask-like top is taken off the great copper kettle and -barrel after barrel is hoisted and dumped in till it is full, scores of -barrels of pitch from thousands of trees being required for one run. The -fire is started beneath the kettle and the pitch warmed up a bit till -the chips which have been collected with the sap have risen to the -surface and been skimmed off. The cover is replaced and connected with -the great copper worm which winds down and round in big convolutions in -a great tank of water which shall cool it. Then a tiny stream of water -is set flowing by way of a spigot into the pitch kettle and the fire is -pushed again. The refining heat melts the dross and the very spirit of -the tree begins to bubble forth, is caught up by the steam from the -water which is introduced and carried over into the great copper worm -whence both flow, cooled and condensed by the surrounding water. But the -two cannot mingle and in the end the floating turpentine is siphoned off -and the residual water allowed to flow away. - -By what alchemy of a subtler kind than any yet applied by man the tree -draws from the gray Florida sand, from the black humus scattered through -it, from the flooding rains of summer and the long glories of winter -suns and the winds of space, this aromatic essence of pungency and fire -no man can say. These are things for a deeper chemistry than that yet -taught in the schools to fathom. So desired is it by artist and artisan -that in a year more than three quarters of a million casks are shipped -from Southern ports to the markets of the world, a massing of results -that might well astound the Confucian alchemists of the elder race who -first worked on the gum of the terebinthine tree. - -After some hours of heat all the turpentine has passed from the retort -and the spigot is turned at the bottom of the tank that the residue may -run off. In the old-time rough working of boxed trees this was a dark, -viscid liquid which soon hardened in cooling into a brittle mass which -is known the world over as rosin. To-day one may well be surprised and -delighted to stand by the still when the liquid is drawn off and see -what he gets. Instead of the dark mass he will see a pellucid flood -which is dipped into the casks in which it is to harden and be shipped, -at first a pale amber wine which might have got its color from the same -source as that juice of the grape which flows from the vats in Italian -vineyards. You may dip flowers in this liquid and take them out coated -with a brittle transparency which is beautiful to look at and which will -keep them, hermetically sealed and preserved, till a rough touch -shatters the glassy envelope and it falls in splintered fragments. This -is the finest rosin, the “water white” of the trade, bringing the -distillers a matter of ten dollars or so a cask. The next best grade is -known as “window glass,” almost the equal of the other in purity, and -from that the quality runs down through grade after grade till the -old-time opaque, dark red rosin stands at the bottom of the list. Twelve -grades in all are commonly quoted by the trade. - -The flowing sap in the Florida pine trees is as susceptible as that of -the Northern sugar maples to heat or cold. In the months of winter, -December, January and February, little pitch is collected. In early -summer or late spring the flow is best. But as the pine of the Southern -forests is more stately and taciturn than the maple, so the movements of -life within its veins are slower and more dignified. On a warm spring -morning in Vermont you may hear the patter of the sap in the pails and -see it drip from the very trees. A man may watch a Southern pine for -long before he sees any amber tear pass from the trunk into the -receptacle placed to hold it. That drumming of the rising sap is never -heard. - -The solemn quiet of the flat-woods seems to be on the whole thing, and -it is no wonder that the songs the negroes sing while working in the -woods have minor cadences in them. One must learn to know these lonesome -and at first monotonous pine forests before he understands them and -comes to love them. Once that is accomplished, their charm for him is -perennial. The endearing aroma of the pines follows him far and seems -most potent when the fervent warmth of spring suns turns his thoughts -toward the cool winds of Northern hillsides. - -So long as the southwest winds follow his home-bound ship, so long he -sniffs, or thinks he sniffs, the wild freedom of the pine levels, and -the chant of the wind in the sparse tree tops seems to come to his ears -and whine that wild, minor, endless tune of the elder world, fragments -of which the care-free negroes chant as they gather the pitch and scar -anew the bleeding trunks. It takes a change of weather and the rough -burr of a northeaster to change this. Then he smells once more the cool -brine swept far out of arctic seas. His ears lose the minor cadences and -prick to welcome the major uproar of surf that bellows hoarse on Grand -Manan and sends white surges playing follow-your-leader over the gray -rocks of Marblehead, leaps the rough cliffs of Scituate and rolls in -fluffy masses of spindrift far inland on the sands of Cape Cod. Then -only is the charm broken and he breathes deep of the home wind and knows -that it is blowing to him across a cool land, one yet but gray-green -with the first impulses of spring, but dearer and more beautiful than -all others. - - - - -INDEX - -A - -Abu Kasim, 32. - -_Achrosticum aureum_, 117, 146. - -Adam, 155, 215, 232, 234, 236, 239, 276. - -Æneid, 168. - -Afreet, 32, 236, 237, 243. - -Ajax, 47. - -Alder, 156. - -Alice-in-Wonderland, 175. - -Allamanda, 234. - -Alligator, 102, 103, 104, 105, 108, - 144, 145, 190, 222, 223, 224, - 226, 227, 259, 260, 269. - -Amaryllis, 146. - -Amberjack, 251. - -Ampelopsis, 54. - -Amphion, 280, 281. - -_Anarcharis canadensis_, 32. - -Anastasia Island, 87. - -Andalusia, 94. - -_Andropogon_, 55. - _Arctatus_, 56, 59. - _Scoparius_, 56. - -Angel fish, 251, 252. - -Angleworm, 142. - -Anhinga, 159. - -_Anosia plexippus_, 19, 24. - _Berenice_, 24. - -Apple, 49. - Baldwin, 56. - -Apple, Custard, 176, 177. - Golden, 49. - -Apple tree, 49. - -_Ardea wardi_, 163. - -Ash, swamp, 141, 142, 157. - -Aster, purple, 55. - _Elliottii_, 55. - - -B - -Bahamas, 108, 119, 127, 192, 208. - -Balthazar, 95. - -Bamboo, 141, 142. - -Bananas, 40, 86, 101, 105, 114, 150. - -Bass, 147, 150, 220, 225. - Large-mouthed black, 142, 147. - Northern, 150. - Straw, 142, 149. - Wide-mouthed, 151, 234, 257. - -Bayberry, 70, 88, 113. - -Beans, 109. - Cherokee, 210. - -Bear, 84. - -Begonia, 113. - -Ben Hur, 248. - -Bethlehem, 94. - -Birds: - Anhinga, 159. - _Ardea cœrulea_, 209. - _Wardi_, 163, 209. - Blackbird, 126, 166, 183, 195, 234, 272, 273. - Crow, 112, 115, 116, 122, 166. - Redwing, 113, 126, 166, 194. - Rusty, 166. - Bluebird, 3, 48, 112, 126, 184. - Bobolink, 107. - Bunting, painted, 218, 219. - Bay-winged, 3. - Butcher, southern, 41, 194, 203, 206. - Buzzard, 8, 9. - Turkey, 183. - Cardinal, 44, 45, 69, 70. - Catbird, 11, 12, 40, 202. - _Ceophlœus pileatus_, 161. - Chickadee, 45, 46. - Coot, 165. - Cormorant, 7, 8, 209, 210. - _Corvus, Americanus_, 43, 113, 259. - _Ossifragus_, 43, 259. - Crane, 165. - Sandhill, 164. - Crow, fish, 113, 258, 259. - Florida, 43. - Cuckoo, 4. - Yellow-billed, 107. - Dove, 183, 184. - Mourning, 183. - Duck, 1, 42, 225. - “Raft,” 236. - Wood, 149. - Eagle, bald, 210, 227. - Egret, 209. - Finch, 43. - Flycatcher, 20, 43, 69, 206. - Goldfinch, 115. - Goose, wild, 22. - Canadian, 137. - Grackle, Florida, 166, 183. - Grebe, pied-billed, 33, 34, 35, 36. - Grosbeak, cardinal, 61, 62. - Gulls, 1, 210, 238, 259. - Blackbacks, 1. - Brownbacks, 1, 210. - Herring, 1. - Kittiwake, 1. - Heron, 58, 59, 169, 209, 225. - Florida, 58, 81, 82. - Florida great blue, 209, 258. - Florida little blue, 227. - Great blue, 58, 163. - Little Green, 161. - Wards, 58, 163, 167, 168. - White, 261. - Hawk, 161, 218. - “Killy,” 194. - Sharp shinned, 202. - Sparrow, 193, 194. - Jay, blue, 69, 80, 115. - Florida, 115. - Junco, 3. - Kingfisher, 160. - Kinglet, 5, 77. - Golden-crowned, 3. - Ruby-crowned, 3. - Loon, 159. - Martin, 3. - Meadow lark, 126, 196. - Mockingbird, 11, 12, 39, 40, 41, 42, 89, 193, 201, 202, 203, 272, 273. - Owl, 2. - - Florida barred, 191, 192. - Screech, 190. - Pelican, 1, 6, 7, 89, 129, 130, 131, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 210. - Pigeon, 112. - Passenger, 183. - Plover, kildeer, 150. - Semi-palmated, 89. - Quail, 184. - Red bird, 77, 115, 272. - Robin, 3, 11, 48, 69, 112, 126, 195, 196. - Shrike, loggerhead, 41, 42, 193, 203. - Snake bird, 160. - Sparrow, 43, 69. - Chipping, 3. - English, 2, 204. - Fox, 3. - Song, 3. - Swallow, chimney, 3. - White-bellied, 3, 5, 272. - Tanager, scarlet, 273. - Thrush, hermit, 89. - Titmouse, 69. - Tufted, 46, 70. - Turkey, water, 159, 160, 161, 261. - Wild, 228. - Vireo, 272. - Vulture, black, 183, 260, 261. - Warbler, 5, 42, 43, 69, 77. - Myrtle, 2, 3, 4, 113. - Pine, 3. - Wilson’s, 3. - Yellow-rump, 114. - Woodpecker, 69. - Woodpecker, Partridge, 47. - Pileated, 160. - Red-bellied, 205. - Red-headed, 47, 48, 77, 204. - Wren, Carolina, 69. - -Biscayne Bay, 64. - -Blackberry, 52, 218. - -Bladderwort, 235. - Purple, 234. - -Bleriot, 9. - -Blitzen, 88. - -Bluebeard, 240. - -Bohenia, 234, 240. - -Boisduval, 215. - -Bouganvillea, 234, 240. - -Bream, 220, 225, 256. - -Buckeye, 27. - -Buckthorn, 112. - -Bulrush, 168, 181. - -Buttercup, 181. - -Butterflies: - _Anosia berenice_, 24. - _Plexippus_, 19, 24. - _Basilarchia disippus_, 20, 21. - Eros, 20. - _Floridensis_, 20. - _Hulsti_, 24. - _Catopsilia eubule_, 18. - _Dione vanillae_, 21, 22. - _Eudamus proteus_, 15. - Fritillaries, 21. - Georgian satyr, 218. - _Heliconius charitonous_, 13. - Monarch, 19, 20, 24, 55, 148. - _Neonympha eurytus_, 218. - _Phocion_, 218. - Nymphs, spangled, 217. - _Papilio_, 217. - _Ajax_, 206. - _Asterias_, 214. - Cresphontes, 52, 206, 213, 214. - Palamedes, 214. - _Thoas_, 213. - _Troilus_, 214, 215. - _Turnus_, 148. - _Pieris monuste_, 213. - Queen, 23, 24. - Skipper, 16. - Long-tailed, 15, 217. - Silver-spotted, 217. - Southern white, 211, 213. - Sulphur, big, 55. - Cloudless, 18. - Little, 8, 55. - Orange, 51. - Viceroy, 20, 21, 24. - -Butterwort, 125. - - -C - -Cactus, 210, 241. - -Calapogon, 182. - -Caliban, 79. - -Canary, 115. - -Cardinal, 44, 45, 69, 70. - -Caribou, 88. - -Caribbean Sea, 107. - -Carnation, 176. - -Carrot, 214. - -Catbird, 11, 12, 40, 201. - -Catbrier, 78. - -Caterpillar, 51. - -Catfish, 149, 151. - -_Catopsilia eubule_, 18. - -Cat-tail, 234. - -Cedar, 61, 70. - Red, 88. - -Celery, 25, 257. - -Chameleon, 269, 270, 271. - -Channel cats, 29, 31. - -Chapman, 8. - -Charleston, 1. - -Cherry, Carolina laurel, 216. - -Chestnut, 50, 109. - -Chickadee, 45, 46. - -Circe, 246. - -Clethra, 177, 217. - -Cobra, 36. - -Cock robin, 166. - -Cocoanut, 109, 239. - -Cod, 3. - -_Ceophlæus pileatus_, 161 - -Columbus, 27. - -Convolvulus, 76. - -Coon, 154, 176. - -Coot, 165. - -Coreopsis, 181. - -Cormorant, 7, 8, 209, 210. - -_Corvus americanus_, 43, 113, 259. - _Ossifragus_, 43, 259. - -County, Alachua, 164. - Brevard, 254. - Dade, 213, 254. - St. Lucie, 164, 253. - -Cows, aquatic, 30. - -Crab, 30. - -Cramer, 215. - -Crane, 165. - Sandhill, 164. - -Cricket, 188, 189. - -Crow, fish, 113, 258, 259. - Florida, 43. - -Chrysanthemum, 91. - -Cuba, 107. - -Cuckoo, 4, 107. - -Cunner, northern, 251. - -Cypress, 53, 57, 59, 67, 234, 241, 258, 268. - Swamp, 58, 235. - Root, 81. - Stump, 81. - - -D - -Daisy, 181. - -Dancer, 88. - -Daytona, 178. - -Deer, 84, 227. - -_Dendroica coronata_, 2. - -De Soto, 9, 63. - -Diamond back, 172. - -_Dione vanillæ_, 21, 22. - -Doctor’s lake, 33. - -Dog fennel, 50. - -Dogwood, 267. - -Donkey, 88. - -Doubleday, 215. - -Dove, 183, 184. - Mourning, 183. - -Dragon fly, 25, 206. - -_Drosera brevifolia_, 123. - -Duck, 1, 42, 225. - “Raft,” 236. - Wood, 149. - -Dunder, 88. - - -E - -Eagle, bald, 210. - -Easter, 234, 240, 241. - -Eden, 97, 232, 233, 234, 240. - -Edwards, 215. - -Eel, 147. - -Egg plant, 109, 245. - -Egret, 209. - -Elm, 11, 101. - -Es-Sindibad, 243. - -_Eudamus proteus_, 15. - -Euphrates, 32. - -Eve, 155, 215, 232, 234, 236. - -Everglades, 108, 119, 122, 234, 253, 254. - -Evergreens, 57. - - -F - -Falstaff, Jack, 189. - -Ferns: - _Achrostichum aureum_, 117, 146. - _Osmunda_, 164, 168. - _Cinnamomea_, 146. - _Regalis_, 146, 168. - Polypody, northern, 92. - Southern, 92, 100, 101. - -Fernandino, 64, 276. - -Finch, 43. - -Fir, 29. - -Firefly, 170. - -Fishes, Amberjack, 251. - Angel, 251, 252. - Bass, 147, 150, 220, 225. - Large-mouthed black, 142, 147, 234. - Northern, 150. - Straw, 142, 149. - Wide-mouthed, 151, 257. - Bream, 220, 225, 257. - Catfish, 149, 151. - Channel, 29, 31. - Cod, 37. - Crab, blue, 30. - Cunner, northern, 251. - Garfish, 151, 220, 225. - “Grunt,” 251. - Menhaden, 131. - Mud, 150. - Mullet, 33, 141, 209, 257. - Perch, salt-water, 251. - Shrimp, 32. - Sunfish, 148, 149. - Trout, sea, 149, 220. - -Flag, 223. - -Flat woods, 110, 116, 152, 164, 241, 266. - -Flycatcher, 20, 43, 69, 206. - -Fort Drum, 199. - -Fort Pierce, 112, 129, 164, 178, 199. - -Fox, 154, 176. - -Fritillary, 21. - -Frog, 34, 188, 262, 274. - Bull, northern, 189. - Southern, 189, 190. - Tree, 126. - -Frost weed, 268. - -Fuzzy wuzzy, 39. - - -G - -Gallilee, 32. - -Gall berries, 112, 120. - -Garfish, 151, 220, 225. - -Gentian, blue, 78. - -Georgian satyr, 218. - -Goldenrod, 54. - -Goldfinch, 115. - -Goose, Canadian, 137. - Wild, 22. - -Grackle, Florida, 166, 183. - -Grape, 54, 73, 267. - Scuppernong, 52, 53. - Wild, 10, 265. - -Grapefruit, 102, 178, 197, 198, 199, 204, 206. - -Grove, 207. - -Grasses, _Andropogon_, 50. - _Arctatus_, 56, 59. - _Scorparius_, 56. - Flat-bladed, 69. - Pampas, 55. - Purple wood, 55, 59, 67. - Saw, 165, 166, 167. - Wire, 184, 220. - -Grasshopper, 16, 50, 51, 189, 193. - Long-horned, 187, 188. - Lubber, 79, 80. - Short-horned, 78, 82. - -Grebe, pied-billed, 33, 34, 35, 36. - -Greenbrier, 54, 73, 111. - -Grosbeak, cardinal, 61, 62. - -Grote, 215. - -“Grunt,” 251. - -Guava, 109, 110, 114, 176. - -Gull, 1, 210, 238, 259. - Black-back, 1. - Brown-back, 1, 210. - Herring, 1. - Kittiwake, 1. - -Gum tree, 57. - -Gum, sour, 53. - Sweet, 53, 56, 57, 67, 69. - - -H - -“Hardpan,” 198. - -Haroun-al-Raschid, 236. - -Harpies, 168. - -Hastings, 101, 102, 182. - -Hawk, 160. - “Killy,” 194. - Sharp shinned, 202. - Sparrow, 193, 194. - -_Heliconius charitonus_, 13. - -Heliopsis, 181. - -Hemlock, 89. - -Heron, 58, 59, 169, 209, 225. - Florida, 58, 81, 82, 209. - Florida big blue, 258. - Great blue, 58, 163. - Little green, 160. - Ward’s, 58, 163, 167, 168. - -Hesperides, 49. - -Hiawatha, 148. - -Hibiscus, 113, 240. - -Holland, 215. - -Holly, 89, 264, 266. - -Honeysuckle, 69, 268. - -Hornet, white-faced, 15. - -Horsebrier, 54. - -Horse-chestnut, 27. - -_Houstonia cærulea_, 182. - _Purpurea_, 182. - _Rotundifolia_, 182. - -Huckleberry, low-bush black, 112. - -Hyla, 127. - - -I - -Indian River, 108, 109, 111, 114, 122, - 129, 132, 144, 156, 175, 178, 186, 200, - 203, 208, 212, 216, 236, 254, 276. - -Ipomea, 17. - -Ivy, English, 64, 72, 91. - - -J - -Jabberwock, 84, 85. - -Jacksonville, 9, 30, 50, 84, 111, 129, 212, 263, 277. - -Jamaica, 107. - -Japanese plum, 27. - -Jasmine, 26, 40, 68, 70, 73, 76, 111, 256, 266, 268. - -Jay, blue, 69, 80, 115. - Florida, 115. - -Junco, 3. - - -K - -Keats’ St. Agnes’ Eve, 2. - -Keys, 276. - -Key West, 250, 251. - -King Arthur, 37. - -Kingfisher, 160. - -Kinglet, 5, 77. - Golden-crowned, 3. - Ruby-crowned, 3. - -Kittiwake, 1. - -Knight’s Key, 250. - -Kumquat, 102, 109. - - -L - -Lake, Clearwater, 234, 235, 241. - Okeechobee, 108, 118, 140, 253. - Sawgrass, 254. - Worth, 231, 233, 236. - -Lemon, 109. - -Lichen, 51. - -Lilies, atamasco, 267. - Easter, 147. - Fairy, 267. - Yellow pond, 122. - -_Limnanthemum lacunosum_, 108. - -Linnæus, 215. - -“Little Cane Slough,” 221, 227. - -Lizard, 143, 236, 269, 270, 271. - “Blue-tail,” 271. - Chameleon, 269, 270, 271. - “Red-headed,” 271. - “Scorpion,” 271. - “Skink, five-lined,” 271. - -Locust, 79. - -Longfellow, 7. - -_Lonicera grata_, 268. - -Loon, 159. - -Loquat, 26, 27, 28, 147, 148. - - -M - -Madeira vine, 148. - -Magnolia, 210. - _Glauca_, 214. - -Manatee, 144. - -Mandalay, 26. - -Mandarin, 50, 63. - -Mangrove, 30, 134, 157. - -Maple, 56, 57, 158. - Swamp, 53, 56, 118. - -Fort Marion, 17, 96. - -Martin, 3. - -Matanzas River, 90. - -Meadow lark, 126, 196. - -Melba, 188. - -Menhaden, 131. - -Miami, 178, 181. - -Milkweed, 175. - -Mistletoe, 62, 77. - -Moccasin, cotton-mouthed, 173. - Water, 34, 36. - -Mocking bird, 11, 12, 39, 40, 41, 42, 89, 193, 200, 201, 203, 272, 273. - -Monarch, 19, 20, 21, 24, 55, 148. - -Morgan, 240. - -Morning glory, 17. - -Moss, 44, 73, 265. - Club, 46. - Gray, 51, 58, 59, 111, 264. - Spanish, 63, 116, 235. - -Moth, forester, 218. - -Mrs. Partington, 254. - -Mudfish, 150. - -Mullet, 30, 144, 209, 257. - -Muskmelon, 175, 176. - -Myrtle, 121, 164, 168. - - -N - -Nautilus, 237. - -_Neonympha eurytus_, 218. - _Phocion_, 218. - -Nymph, spangled, 217. - - -O - -Oak, 12, 50, 77, 115, 116, 264, 265. - Live, 1, 9, 10, 11, 13, 15, 33, - 38, 42, 44, 45, 53, 57, 59, 61, 62, 69, 73, 80, 159. - River, 80. - Scrub, 46. - Water, 157, 159. - -Oberon, 77. - -Oleander, 67, 70, 71, 72, 113, 240. - Pink, 232. - White, 232. - -Oppossum, 154, 176, 196. - -Orange, 49, 52, 60, 103, 106, 108, 109, 115, 193, 216, 244, 272. - Blossoms, 18, 27, 52, 176, 195, 201. - Grove, 51, 55, 59, 64, 65, 102, 103, 150, 256, 273. - Puppy, 51. - Tree, 50, 56, 99, 110, 244, 272. - -Orchid, 20. - -Ormond, 178. - -Osceola, 178, 253. - -_Osmunda_, 164, 168. - _Cinnamomea_, 146. - Regalis, 146, 168. - -Owl, 2. - - Florida barred, 190, 192. - Screech, 190. - - -P - -Palatka, 110. - -Palm, 86, 117, 125, 195, 232, 243. - Cocoanut, 110, 238, 248. - Royal, 110. - Silver, 248. - -Palm Beach, 177, 181, 184, 231, 243, 244, 245. - West, 233, 255. - -Palmetto, 1, 45, 82, 84, 89, 92, 101, 110, 111, 120, - 140, 153, 154, 156, 158, 161, 162, 166, 168, 169, - 171, 179, 190, 210, 219. - Cabbage, 110, 164. - Sabal, 153. - Saw, 235, 243, 244. - Scrub, 82, 83, 88, 153, 154, 165, 166, 223. - -Palmetto blooms, 147, 148. - -“Palmetto Leaves,” 61. - -Pan, 238. - -Papaw, 175, 176, 248. - -_Papilio ajax_, 206. - _Asterias_, 214. - _Cresphontes_, 52, 206, 213, 214. - _Palamedes_, 214. - _Thoas_, 213. - _Troilus_, 214, 215. - _Turnus_, 148. - -Paradise, 237, 238, 276. - -Parsley, 214. - -Partridge berry, 46, 267. - -Passion vine, 234. - -Peacock, 214. - -Pelican, 1, 6, 7, 8, 9, 129, 130, 131, 135, 136, 137, 138. - -Pelican Island, 131, 133. - -Pelican rookery, 202. - -Pepper, 245. - -Perch, salt water, 251. - -Persian, 32. - -Peter, 31. - -Pharaohs, 240. - -Phlox, 268. - -Pickerel week, 122, 182, 235. - -_Pieris monuste_, 213. - -Pigeon, 112. - Passenger, 183. - -Pine, 4, 6, 80, 152, 153, 180, 181, 183, 184, - 193, 202, 227, 232, 235, 243, 267, 273. - Dwarf, 233. - Long-leaved, 7, 45, 53, 64, 120, 177, 241, 256. - Northern, 57, 67. - Pitch, 29, 140. - Southern, 26, 276. - White, 29, 87. - Yellow, 78. - -Pineapple, 114, 116, 150. - -_Pinguicula lutea_, 125, 127. - _Pumila_, 125. - -Pipewort, 234. - -Pipsissewa, 46. - -Pizzarro, 240. - -Pitch, 278, 280, 282, 286. - -Plover, “kildeer,” 150. - Semi-palmated, 89. - -Poinciana, royal, 248. - -Poinsettias, 91, 101. - -Polecat, 154. - -Polypody, northern, 92. - Southern, 92, 100, 101. - -Ponce de Leon, 158, 178. - -Prancer, 88. - -Prospero, 79. - -Puck, 77. - -Puritan, 63. - -Pyrola, 46. - - -Q - -Quail, 184. - - -R - -Rabbit, cotton-tailed, 154. - -Raccoon, 154, 196, 225, 227. - -Rat, 155, 192. - -Rattlesnake, 85, 172. - -Razorback, 81, 84, 85, 189, 190. - -Redbird, 77, 115, 272, 273. - -Resin, 278. - -Revolution, 17. - -Robin, 3, 11, 48, 69, 112, 126, 195, 196. - -Roc, 243. - -Rockledge, 178. - -Rose, 64, 71, 72, 76, 86. - Bride, 256. - Cherokee, 67, 68, 70, 72, 78, 177, 203, 266, 268. - Marechal Neil, 91. - Tea, 86, 91. - -Rubber tree, 210. - -Rushes, 121. - - -S - -Saggitaria, 235. - -Sanford, 255, 256, 257. - -Sanhedrim, 63. - -Santa Claus, 9, 86, 87, 88, 90. - -Sargasso Sea, 118. - -Scudder, 215. - -Scutch, 50. - -Sea trout, 149, 220. - -Sedge, 31, 68, 181. - -Senna, wild, 18. - -Seminoles, 90, 94, 111, 255. - -Sesbania, 71. - -Shaddock, 200. - -Shakespeare, 89. - -Shrike, loggerhead, 41, 42, 193. - -Shrimp, 32. - -Skipper, 16. - Long-tailed, 15, 217. - Silver-spotted, 217. - -_Smilax auriculata_, 54. - Wild, 267. - -Snakes: - Cobra, 36. - Diamondback, 172. - Gopher, 154, 155. - Green, 210. - Hog-nosed, 37. - Indigo, 154. - Moccasin, cotton-mouthed, 173. - Water, 34, 36. - Rattler, 85, 172, 174. - -Snake bird, 150. - -Snipe, 42. - -Soudanese, 39. - -South Beach, 87. - -Spanish bayonets, 39. - -Spanish Main, 89. - -Spanish moss, 38. - -“Spanish needles,” 211. - -Sparrow, 43, 69. - Chipping, 3. - English, 2, 204. - Fox, 3. - Song, 3. - -Spice bush, 70, 168. - -Spruce, 29. - -St. Andrew’s cross, 89. - -St. Augustine, 86, 88, 90, 92, 93, 95, 96, 99, 104, 105, 108, 111. - -St. Johns River, 7, 9, 12, 23, 27, - 28, 31, 33, 43, 49, 53, 61, 82, - 254, 257, 259, 261, 264. - -St. Lucie River, 113, 144, 156, 158, 161, 178, 181, 220. - -St. Peter’s-wort, 78. - -Stoll, 215. - -Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 61. - -Stowe place, 73, 74. - -Strecker, 215. - -Sugar cane, 1, 101, 105. - -Sundew, 123, 124, 182. - -Sumac, 10, 52. - -Swallow, chimney, 3. - White-bellied, 3, 5, 272. - -Sweet potato, 16, 17, 19, 76. - -Sycamore, 57, 109. - - -T - -Taine, 47, 48. - -Tampa, 276. - -Tanager, scarlet, 273. - -Tarleton, 17. - -Teach, 240. - -Terebinthine tree, 278. - -Thrush, hermit, 89. - -Tiger swallowtail, 148. - -Tillandsia, 116. - -Titania, 77. - -Titmouse, 69. - Tufted, 46, 70. - -Toad, tree, 47. - -Tomato, 109, 245. - -Tomoka, 156. - -Trade winds, 26, 185, 212. - -Trinculo, 79. - -Trinidad, 26. - -Trout, 257. - -Tuberose, 26. - -Tupelo, 53, 54. - -Turkey, water, 159, 160, 161, 261. - Wild, 228. - -Turpentine camp, 277. - -Turtle, 159. - -Twain, Mark, 269. - - -U - -Ulysses, 198. - -_Utricularia_, 123, 125. - _Inflata_, 108, 182. - _Subulata_, 123. - _Vulgaris_, 122. - - -V - -Venus, 186. - -Viburnum, 267. - -Viceroy, 20, 21, 24. - -_Viola blanda_, 116. - _Lanceolata_, 116. - -Violet, 64, 116. - English, 91, 176. - White, 116. - -Vireo, 272. - -Virginia creeper, 53, 54. - -Vulture, black, 183, 260, 261. - - -W - -Warbler, 5, 42, 43, 69, 77. - Myrtle, 2, 3, 4, 113. - Pine, 3. - Wilson’s, 3. - Yellow-rump, 114. - -Water hyacinth, 30, 32, 33, 34, 37. - -Water moccasin, 34, 36. - -White City, 112, 163. - -Whip-poor-will, southern, 274. - -Willow, 114, 116, 145, 146, 158. - Brittle, 147. - Swamp, 115. - -Wistaria, 15. - -Woodpecker, 69. - Partridge, 47. - Pileated, 160. - Red-bellied, 205. - Red-headed, 47, 48, 77, 204. - -Wren, Carolina, 69. - - -Y - -Yucca, 39, 41, 42. - - -Z - -Zebra, 13, 55, 217. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLORIDA TRAILS AS SEEN FROM -JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL INCLUSIVE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/66052-0.zip b/old/66052-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3e20a13..0000000 --- a/old/66052-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h.zip b/old/66052-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ca556d7..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/66052-h.htm b/old/66052-h/66052-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 3b384e8..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/66052-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8305 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Florida Trails, by Winthrop Packard. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.caption {font-weight:normal;} -.caption p{font-size:75%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:125%;font-weight:normal;} - - hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.letra {font-size:150%;margin-left:7%; -font-weight:bold;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.nonvis {display:inline;} -.x-bookmaker .nonvis {display: none;} - @media print, handheld - {.nonvis - {display: none;} - } - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -.x-bookmaker .pagenum {display: none;} - -.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:120%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: .45em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.idtts {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em; -letter-spacing:.5em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to Key West and from November to April inclusive, by Winthrop Packard</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to Key West and from November to April inclusive</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Winthrop Packard</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 12, 2021 [eBook #66052]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Steve Mattern, Chuck greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLORIDA TRAILS AS SEEN FROM JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL INCLUSIVE ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -height="550" alt="[Image of -the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents.</a><br /> -<a href="#INDEX">Index.</a></p> - -<p class="c"><a href="#ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations</a><br /> <span class="nonvis">(In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] -clicking on the image will bring up a larger version.)</span></p> - -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="c">FLORIDA TRAILS</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_001" style="width: 402px;"> -<a href="images/i001_frontis.jpg"> -<img src="images/i001_frontis.jpg" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The road down Indian River winds always southward toward -the sun”</p> - -<p style="text-align:right;"> -[<i><a href="#page_208">Page 208</a></i></p></div> -</div> - -<h1>FLORIDA TRAILS</h1> -<p class="c">AS SEEN FROM JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST<br /> -AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL<br /> -INCLUSIVE<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -BY<br /> -<br /> -WINTHROP PACKARD<br /><small><small> -<i>Author of “Wild Pastures,” “Wood Wanderings,” etc.</i></small></small><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY<br /> -THE AUTHOR AND OTHERS<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/i002_title.jpg" -id="ill_002" width="311" height="375" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /> -<br /> -<br /> -BOSTON<br /> -SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY<br /> -<span class="smcap">Publishers</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /><small> -<i>Copyright, 1910</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By Small, Maynard and Company</span><br /> -(INCORPORATED)<br /> -<br /> -Entered at Stationers’ Hall<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.<br /></small> -</p> - -<h2>TO MY MOTHER</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> author wishes to express his thanks to the editors of the “Boston -Evening Transcript” for permission to reprint in this volume matter -originally contributed to the columns of that paper; to Mr. H. E. Hill -of Fort Pierce, Florida, and to Mr. J. D. Rahner of St. Augustine, -Florida, for permission to use certain photographs which so ably -supplement his own; and to very many Florida people, through whose -unfailing hospitality and friendly guidance he was able to see and know -many things which otherwise he would have been unable to find or -understand. This spirit of courtly hospitality and neighborly good will -seems to be as unfailing as the Florida sunshine, and is characteristic -alike of the native and the adopted citizen. It adds one more delight to -the many to be found in this beautiful region.</p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary=""> -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><small>Chapter</small></span> </td><td> </td> -<td><span class="smcap"><small>Page</small></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Going South with the Warblers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Certain Southern Butterflies</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Along the River Margin</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Birds of a Morning</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">’Twixt Orange Grove and Swamp</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">Jasmine and Cherokee Roses</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">A Frosty Morning in Florida</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Christmas at St. Augustine</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">In a Florida Freeze</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_96">96</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Down the Indian River</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Spring in the Savannas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Seven Thousand Pelicans</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Just Fishing</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_140">140</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Palmettos of the St. Lucie</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_152">152</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Intruding on Ward’s Herons</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_163">163</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">One Road to Palm Beach</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Moonlight and March Mornings</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_186">186</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">In Grapefruit Groves</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_197">197</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">Butterflies of the Indian River</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">Alligators and Wild Turkeys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_220">220</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Easter Time at Palm Beach</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_231">231</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">Into the Miraculous Sea</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_243">243</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">Down the St. Johns</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_253">253</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Holly Blossom Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_264">264</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">In a Turpentine Camp</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_276">276</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="rt"><span class="smcap"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></span></td><td> </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_287">287</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_001">“The road down Indian River winds always southward toward the sun”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#ill_001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_002">“They line the paths on either side with the gray columns of their trunks”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#ill_002"><i>Titlepage</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_003">“Profuse draperies of moss pendant from each branch and twig”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_004">“To march along this water is to promenade a river side and a sea beach in one”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_005">“Lesser scaup ducks are very tame in Florida waters all winter”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_006">“In the grateful shadow of an orange tree facing sunward in the grove”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_007">“Under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the ancient cypress trees”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_008">“A wilderness where deer and bear still linger”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_009">“Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_010">Court of “The Alcazar” at St. Augustine</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_011">Cathedral Place, St. Augustine</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_012">“The fort that waits in crumbling beauty the obliterating hand of the coming centuries”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_013">“The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana trees a light brown”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_014">The banana tree in bloom</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_015">“The southeast trade-winds here pass a long line of the islands which bar off the Indian River from the ocean”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_016">“This is a country of pineapple plantations”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_017">“Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east of Lake Okeechobee”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_018">“All must know when spring comes, whether in the Everglades or the New England pastures”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_124">124</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_019">“The others began nest building and placed some fifteen hundred nests on the three-acre island”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_134">134</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_020">A little group of half-grown young pelicans on the edge of Pelican Island</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_021">“Up with the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling silvery bodies in the dark water”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_144">144</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_022">“A manatee, rare indeed nowadays”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_148">148</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_023">“Sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower often as high as the pines”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_154">154</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_024">“As quick night glooms the river the passing sun caresses the palmettos last”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_162">162</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_025">“A superb dignity of pose, statues of frozen alertness”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_164">164</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_026">A little blue heron and her nest, the commonest Florida heron</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_168">168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_027">A Seminole village deep in the flat woods of Southern Florida</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_178">178</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_028">The gray of dawn on the Indian River</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_192">192</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_029">“The tree is lavish to its friends and will produce fruit almost beyond belief”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_198">198</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_030">“Thirty miles across the barrens these have come, from groves out at Fort Drum”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_200">200</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_031">“A rubber tree twined its roots about a palmetto till it crushed the trunk to a debris of rotten wood”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_210">210</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_032">“The river is screened from your view by dense growth of palmettos”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_212">212</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_033">“My first glimpse came at one of these places”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_222">222</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_034">“The heat and steam of the sub-tropical swamp hatches the eggs without further trouble”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_224">224</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_035">“There, too, is the mingling of a score of wee, wild scents from the jungle”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_232">232</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_036">The “traveler’s tree” in a Palm Beach garden</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_234">234</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_037">“It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of picturesque adventure on the place”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_238">238</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_038">Into the miraculous sea</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_244">244</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_039">“By and by the road leaves the embankment and winds totteringly out on piling”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_248">248</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_040">“As one holds his breath in suspense the road comes to a stop at the western tip of Knight’s Key”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_250">250</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_041">Gathering turtle’s eggs on a Florida beach</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_252">252</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p> - -<h1>FLORIDA TRAILS</h1> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /><br /> -<small>GOING SOUTH WITH THE WARBLERS</small></h2> - -<p>When I left New York, I thought that I had said good-by to the smaller -migrating birds for three days. My steamer’s keel was to furrow nearly a -thousand miles of rough sea before it landed me in Florida, where among -live-oak and palmetto, bamboo and sugar cane, I might hope to meet tiny -friends that I had loved and lost a while. I rather expected flocks of -migrating sea birds, and in this I was disappointed. The usual gulls -whirled and cackled in our wake, kittiwakes and herring gulls, brown -backs and black backs, a horde that thinned with each steamer we met, -taking return tickets to port, seemingly loath to leave the fascinating -region of Coney Island.</p> - -<p>The hundreds had dwindled to almost a lone specimen before, just off -Charleston, the pelicans came out to look us over. Not a duck did I see -till the pelicans had approved us. Then we began to drive out scattered -flocks. Perhaps the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> northwester that had chased us all the way had -something to do with it. For it was almost a blizzard out of New York. -Up in Central Park the English sparrow, like Keats’s St. Agnes’ Eve owl, -for all his feathers was a-cold. The little children of the rich, -parading the walks with bare knees, and nurse maids, were blue with the -chill and might well envy the little children of the poor for whom the -charitable provide stockings. Even out at sea the wind and cold seemed -to chill the water till it was made of blue shivers and gooseflesh -combers.</p> - -<p>Yet I had reckoned without my host, so far as the little migrants are -concerned, for, waking the next morning some two hundred miles or more -farther south and far out of sight of any land, the first sound that I -heard was the tchip of a myrtle warbler. Verily, thought I, this is some -trick of the vibrating rigging, quivering under the thrust of the screw. -Then I looked up and saw the bird himself, sitting on the rail, whence -he flew serenely to a passenger’s hat. Then I was quite convinced that -it was high time that I had a change, found fresh woods and pastures -new. Too steady a pursuit of a subject is apt to end in hallucination, -as many a latter day theosophist ought to be able to testify.</p> - -<p>However, this specimen of <i>Dendroica coronata</i> was not materialized -through concentrated<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> thought, but was a real myrtle warbler, and there -were a dozen, more or less, hopping about the ship. During the next -thirty-six hours the number of bird passengers carried, summed up, -would, I am sure, far exceed the paying passenger list. We identified -pine warblers, robins, song sparrows, chipping sparrows, fox sparrows, -Wilson’s warblers, juncos, golden-crowned kinglets, ruby-crowned -kinglets, bay-winged buntings and a white-bellied swallow.</p> - -<p>With a few exceptions these seemed to be young birds, rather -storm-buffeted and weary. Whether they lighted on the ship as a -convenient resting-place in the regular course of their migration, or -whether they had been blown off to sea by the strong westerly wind, it -is impossible to say. I think the former. The wind was blustering but by -no means a gale, and they could easily fly against it. They seemed most -numerous at daybreak, and I think they were attracted by the ship’s -lights during the night, and stopped on it to feed and rest at morning, -as they do on land. Possibly, also, the younger generation of birds is -finding that it is a good deal easier to go South by steam power than it -is to get there by main strength. Why not? In a century or so chimney -swallows have learned to build in chimneys rather than in caves and -hollow trees. Bluebirds, martins and white-bellied swallows have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span> -learned the uses of bird boxes. Why shouldn’t they adopt steamships? The -wireless operator who pulls all sorts of information out of the -circumambient atmosphere tells me that they have; that at this season of -the year the ships are apt to swarm with tiny songsters, and the young -lady from up the State who sits at the piano in the social hall and -coquettishly sings about “the saucy little bird on Nellie’s hat,” is now -able to do it with illustrations.</p> - -<p>This lighting of the myrtle warbler on the passenger’s hat is not -persiflage, either. Several times it happened. Along in the afternoon a -negro, sitting in a sunny corner of the steerage deck, held nevertheless -the very center of the stage for several minutes with a junco perched on -the crown of a well-brushed black soft hat that might have been as old -as he was. It made a rather pretty picture and the old man’s eyes shone -with delight long after the junco had flown. “Ya-as,” he drawled to his -companions after the bird had gone, “dem birds, dey al’ays does laike -dat hat. One day down in Souf Ca’lina ah was sitting in de field a long -time an’ one of dem cuckoo birds des came along and laid an aig in dat -hat. Yessir, it done did.” This may be true. I tell it as I heard it.</p> - -<p>All these free passengers seemed far tamer on shipboard than on shore, -and manifested it in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span> other ways than lighting on people’s hats. They -hopped chirping about the decks almost under foot, to the delight of the -ship’s cat, which caught one and escaped the wrath to come by dodging to -some hole below decks with it. They even invaded the dining-room and -picked up crumbs from the carpet, and it was no uncommon thing for one -to flutter from under foot as passengers came along the corridors. Now -and then one would leave his comfortable perch, flit in a wide circle -about the ship, and come back as if loath to leave so firm a foundation -and such good fellowship. I missed the white-bellied swallow first. -Surely his wings should take him to land without serious effort. One by -one the others departed, many remaining until the ship was off the -Hatteras Shoals and the land not more than a dozen miles away.</p> - -<p>Even then it seemed as if the little warblers and tiny kinglets were -taking long chances with the stiff wind and the foam-crested billows. In -starting off they flitted down toward these as if they intended to light -on them, swerving upward from the very imminent crest of many a wave and -dipping into the long hollows again in flight that matched the -undulations of the sea. I hope they all reached land. Probably in -migrating time the sea takes toll of all flocks and thus helps nature in -her ruthless weeding out of the weak<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>lings. There were no small migrants -remaining by the time the pelicans came out to inspect ship.</p> - -<p>I have great respect for the pelican, a respect which increases each -time I see him, he is such a venerable gaffer of a bird. Even in the -confines of his hen-fenced enclosure at the ostrich farm in -Jacksonville, he does not lose this aspect of dignity. The group sitting -and flitting about their tiny tank always reminds me of the delineations -of the Hebrew prophets in the mural decorations of the Boston Public -Library. They (the pelicans) have a faintly straw-colored top to the -head which reminds one of a bald and massive dome of thought, and they -draw their beaks back against their necks till they are for all the -world like long beards. Then there is an intellectual solemnity about -them that I am sure their character does not belie. Even when they play -at leap-frog, clumsily flopping one over another in the pool, they do it -in a way that convinces you that they have it all reasoned out and are -not entering into it lightly or without due consideration. They are a -clean bird in captivity and are so quaintly awkward in their movements -that one loves them at sight.</p> - -<p>But the pelicans are best seen as they fly in an orderly line from -somewhere shoreward, out to the ship inspection. Several flocks of ten -or a dozen came alternately flapping and sailing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span> their wings all -beating time with those of the leader as if in a careful drill movement. -They sailed over the ship and then settled upon the water, still in an -orderly row, and I thought I saw each flock confer after sitting and wag -bald heads and long beards as if in approval. As we steamed up the St. -Johns we left them there, for the pelican fishes only at sea and -disdains the brackish water of the river which flows miles wide from the -interior of Florida.</p> - -<p>As a first glimpse of Florida bird life they are satisfying and of -unusual interest. I recommend them to any who may sail in my wake.</p> - -<p>The cormorants came next. The viking bird of which Longfellow jingled,</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Then as with wings aslant,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Sails the fierce cormorant,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Seeking some rocky haunt,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">With his prey laden,”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">may have been all that the poet’s fancy painted him, but the Florida -cormorant certainly does not fill up to the measure of the poem. Fierce -he may be to little fishes, but to the eye of the passer up the river -his chief characteristic is purely <i>dolce far niente</i>. Hardly a river -buoy or a sand-bar marker post but has a cormorant, looking as much like -a black carving at the top of a totem pole as anything else. Usually he -is as motionless. He stretches his slim, snake-like neck<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span> as the boat -goes by, sometimes even moves it uneasily, but his body keeps up the -statuesque pose to perfection. No doubt the cormorant dives and swims, -flies and fishes, but so far I have found him only as the topmost -carving on the buoys and marker posts. This Florida variety is slightly -smaller and otherwise different from the birds of the Northern coast. -Chapman describes him as a shy bird. A cursory glance would seem to -indicate that the only thing he is shy of is energy.</p> - -<p>The first Florida land bird that I saw was the buzzard. If the cormorant -is the statue of repose, the buzzard is the poet of motion. I suspect -that this bird was the original mental scientist. He moves by -thought-power alone. I am always reminded, in watching his progress, of -the ancient story of the Chinaman watching his first electric car. The -buzzard certainly has no visible “pushee” or any observable “pullee.” -But how silently and beautifully he goes. Never a flap of the broad -black wings and never a quiver of the widespread primary tips. He just -thinks himself along, against the wind or with it, up or down. His broad -wings are like the prayer rug of the Arabian tale. He adjusts himself -upon them, stretches forth his bald red neck and just wishes himself in -some place, near or far, and forthwith he sails swiftly to it. In what -as yet unexplained principle of progress he finds his power no -pres<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>ent-day aeroplanist can say. When he finds out, the flying man of -the future may do away with the motor which so frequently fails to mote -and the propellers which break in mid-air and spill the passenger. Go to -the buzzard, thou Bleriot; consider his ways and be wise.</p> - -<p>The little river steamer that takes you up the St. Johns from -Jacksonville to Orange Park soon leaves the uproar of the city, the -skyscrapers and drawbridges, tugs, lighters, and coastwise steamships -behind, and puffs onward into placid reaches that to the eye have -changed little since the days of De Soto. If plantations and villages -exist ashore there is but little indication of them. The banks are lined -with verdure, green and gray,—green with the foliage of century-old -live-oaks and tall, long-leaved pines, gray with exquisite festoons and -dangling draperies of the moss that decorates every tree and fairly -smothers some of them. There is a crinkly grace, an elderly virility -about it that is most engaging. It takes but little effort of the -imagination to see the red cheeks and twinkling eyes of a myriad -disciples of Santa Claus peering through it ready to bring gifts to all -good children. I have yet to see with what costume they simulate the -good saint in this country. If they do not make his beard of this softly -beautiful, crinkly, fatherly gray moss I shall feel that they miss an -excellent opportunity. Here<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span> and there through the moss and among the -big, rough tree-trunks a tiny road winds down through the -needle-carpeted sand and leads to a slender long pier, built far out -over the shallow reaches of the river to a landing for the river boats. -The stream is miles wide in its lower course, but only in its channel is -it deep. Shallows stretch far from either bank and fleets of water -hyacinths voyaging seaward with the current strand sometimes far from -shore. The fifteen-mile trip is thus like one into a sub-tropical -wilderness untouched by the chill of approaching winter, little marred -by the hand of man. The miracles of gorgeous autumn coloring which we -left behind in the Massachusetts woods find no echo here. Now and then a -sumac leaf shows dull crimson or the wild grape takes on a somber -yellow, yet these tiny dots of color are no more to be noticed in a -general survey of the forest than the bright hues of the butterflies -that swarm at midday in the bright sun and a temperature of eighty in -the shade.</p> - -<p>It is a new land, yet it has beauties that are all its own. The full -moon was rising over the eastern shore of the river as I climbed its -west bank, lighting up the broad central street of the little town with -golden radiance. Here for a moment with the soft sand underfoot and the -stately live-oaks arching overhead I might have thought</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_003" style="width: 563px;"> -<a href="images/i003_page10.jpg"> -<img src="images/i003_page10.jpg" width="563" height="402" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Profuse draperies of moss pendant from each branch and -twig<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">myself in a Cape Cod village. The neat white fences were the same, the -sand was the same with sparse grass growing from sidewalk to wheel -tracks, and the live-oaks that arched till their limb tips touched and -made play of soft shadows and softer light underfoot might well have -been the Massachusetts elms. Only the profuse draperies of the moss -pendant from every branch and twig were new, informing the place with a -golden glamour of grace and mystery.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it wonderful!” exclaimed the lady from Boston.</p> - -<p>“Ye-es,” replied the lady from Philadelphia, doubtfully, “I think it’s -nice; all but that ragged moss all over everything. It reminds me of -untidy housekeeping.” Thus points of view differ.</p> - -<p>It was perfectly conventional and exactly proper that the first bird I -heard singing here the next morning should be the mocking bird. It is -little wonder either, for these beautiful songsters infest the place, as -numerous and familiar as robins on a Northern lawn. I have an idea that -the mocking bird is just a catbird gone to heaven. He seems a little -slenderer and more graceful. His tail is a bit longer and the catbird’s -earthly color of slate pencil has become a paler, lovelier gray in which -the white of celestial robes is fast growing. Already it has touched his -wing bars, and his tail feathers, and all his under parts. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> a bit of -celestial beauty has been added to his song, which is rounder and more -golden, yet holds much of the catbird’s phrasing still. People may say -what they will about the catbird at home. With all his faults I love him -still, and it pleases me to fancy that he becomes a mocking bird as he -becomes good and noble.</p> - -<p>After the mocking bird’s whistle came a second melodious note, the -tinkle of passing cow-bells, recalling to mind once more quiet -elm-shaded New England streets and rock-walled pasture lanes. Yet in -this tinkle was a puzzling note as the cattle passed and the sound faded -into the distance, a bubbling change of tone, a liquid drowning -altogether new and delightful. I followed its siren call to find myself -led, as by the sirens of old, to water. Down the streets of a morning -wander the scrub cows of the place, munching live-oak acorns as they -pass to their grazing grounds, the shallow waters of the St. Johns. Into -this they wade fearlessly, often neck deep and a quarter-mile from the -shore, sinking their heads to the bottom to feed on the tender herbage -of aquatic plants. The tinkle of the cow-bells catches its bubbling note -and its drowning fall in its continual submergence and resurgence. It is -as characteristic of a St. Johns River town as the melody of the mocker, -different, but perhaps equally delightful in its musical quaintness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /><br /> -<small>CERTAIN SOUTHERN BUTTERFLIES</small></h2> - -<p>I had not expected to find a zebra so far north, yet he galloped by the -door one torrid day showing his black and yellow stripes most -tantalizingly. He was so near that the brilliant red dots which are a -part of his color scheme showed plainly and added to his beauty. I have -said galloped; I might better perhaps have written loped in describing -his flight, for the zebra of this story is not a quadruped, but a -butterfly. It was I who did the galloping, net in hand, finding his easy -lope hard to rival in speed. Soon, however, he fluttered to a live-oak -branch and lighted while I put the net over him, or thought I did. I -hauled him in with careful glee only to find a yellow oak leaf as my -prize and the butterfly nowhere to be seen. Down here many people call -the <i>Heliconius charitonus</i> “the convict.” I had thought this because of -his stripes. I begin to think it is because of his ability to escape -imprisonment.</p> - -<p>The zebra came as a sort of climax to two or three days of butterfly -hunting extraordinary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span> The first came on my first full day at Orange -Park. There are years when August lasts well into November in northern -Florida, and this is one. For two months, up to and including the tenth -of November, there has been no rain, and in cloudless skies the fervent -sun has set the mercury in the thermometer toying with the eighty mark. -So it was on this first day of mine. The wind blew gently from the -south, and by nine o’clock countless swarms of butterflies were flying -against it, a vast migration in progress toward the tip of the -peninsula.</p> - -<p>The principal street of the town runs east and west from the boat -landing to the railroad station. It is laid out so wide that the wagon -tracks rather get lost in it and wander uncertainly from side to side, -so wide that it takes three rows of stately, moss-bearded oaks to shade -it, two between the broad sidewalks and the street, a third down the -middle. There is room for a trolley line each side of this central row -and plenty of space for a city’s wagon traffic between that and the -sidewalk. The trolley line is not here, however. Only an occasional lazy -horse scuffs through the sand. Somebody planned Orange Park for a -metropolis, and it may be that yet, but the time has been long in -coming.</p> - -<p>But if human traffic was scarce in this street the butterfly highway -which led across it any<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>where east or west was filled with eager motion. -Black, yellow, red, silver, and orange and gold little and big, they -were in the air all the time.</p> - -<p>The only effort necessary to collect specimens in variety was that of -standing, net in hand, in any spot and taking what came within reach. -Long-tailed skippers shot like buzzing black bullets out of the vivid -sunshine to northward, under the flickering shadow of the live-oaks, and -over the paling and through the vivid sunshine to southward again. The -skipper is really dark brown, lighted with a few yellow spots, his body -prettily furred with green, but he looks black on the wing. He is only a -little fellow, spreading little more than an inch and a half from tip to -tip, the long tails of his after-wings being his most conspicuous mark, -but he is as hot-footed in his motions as a Northern white-faced hornet.</p> - -<p>Why a butterfly whose main colors are dark brown and green evolves from -the red-headed yellow worm that feeds upon wistaria, pea vines and -various other plants of the pulse family is not for me to say. I think -but little of the worm, but I have a great admiration for the skipper. -His flight is vivid, if his coloring is not, and he is as full of energy -and enthusiasm as a newly arrived Northern real-estate agent. I shall -always feel a special friendship for <i>Eudamus proteus</i>. He was my first -Florida capture. In the cool of dawn I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span> found one sitting on the pillow -of my bed that very first morning and I took him on the spot. It is a -good butterfly country where new specimens come to you while you sleep.</p> - -<p>To-day the sky is overcast, there is a hint of rain in the air and the -temperature is low enough to suggest a sweater. Not a butterfly is in -sight. All are under shelter, waiting for the sun and the warmth again.</p> - -<p>Certainly millions of them must have passed through Orange Park on this -day of which I write. There was not a moment from nine until four that I -could not count a score crossing the main street. I wandered from the -river bank to the railroad station, a matter of a mile, and always it -was the same. In the length and breadth of the town a thousand a minute -must have moved on across that street, all day long. There were eddies -and swirls in the current, but during the day I saw only one butterfly -going against it. That was a skipper, and by his rate of movement I -fancy he had forgotten something and was just hurrying back after it.</p> - -<p>One of the eddies in this current was over a sweet potato field just -south of the road. The ancient ditty about the grasshopper sitting on -the sweet potato vine is true enough these days. The long drought has -bred him in numbers, but that day the golden yellow butterflies rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span> -crowded him off. The Florida sweet potato is delicious. There is a nice -golden yellow taste to its well-cooked pulp that crosses the word -“enough” out of a Northerner’s gastronomic dictionary. I remember as a -boy studying history unwillingly, yet reading with pleasure of the part -taken by the Southern troops under Marion, “the swamp fox,” in defying -the British under Tarleton and thus helping win the war of the -Revolution. The legend ran that an embassy of British officers came to -Marion’s camp to discuss certain matters with them and found them making -a meal of sweet potatoes only. Whereupon the embassy went back and told -Tarleton that he could never conquer men who could fight so well on so -meager a diet. At the time I sympathized with Marion and his men. Now, -having tasted the Southern sweet potato in its native wilds, I -sympathize with the British who did not know how well fed their enemies -were.</p> - -<p>The vine is not so delicious as all this, but it is pretty in its way, -being much like our Northern morning glory. In fact, they are both -ipomeas, and the purple, tubular blossoms are almost identical. The -Northern morning glory should take shame to itself that it does not grow -a root like that of its Southern sister-in-law. This sweet potato field -was dotted with purple blossoms that morning, and above them whirled -swarms of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> what I think is really the loveliest butterfly of the South, -the cloudless sulphur. The little sulphur with the black-bordered wings -is common enough at the North, as it is down here, and a very pretty -butterfly it is, too, but it pales into insignificance beside this great -lemon-yellow fellow with wing expanse of two and a half inches, the -whole upper side one rich clear color that flashes in the sun. The under -side is almost as rich, having but one or two insignificant eye spots to -vary it, and the swarms of these great golden creatures came down on the -purple blossoms like a scurrying snow-storm whose great flakes were -embodied sunshine.</p> - -<p>The caterpillar which is the grub form of this beautiful creature is -yellow, too—I cannot think of <i>Catopsilia eubule</i> as being born of a -grub of any other color—and feeds on the leaves of the wild senna, -whose blossoms are also yellow. Thus, for once, anyway, we have a -sequence of color culminating in the superlative. The cloudless sulphur -is very fond of all flowers, and is said to be especially partial to -orange blossoms. I can think of nothing more beautiful than the glossy -green leaves of this delightful tree, interspersed with the waxy white -fragrant blooms, the whole glorified with the hovering wings of this -great golden yellow butterfly.</p> - -<p>The cloudless sulphurs did not have the sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span> potato patch all to -themselves, though they swirled there most conspicuously. I picked out -of it, as I watched, occasional flecks of deep red which I took at first -for monarchs, and so many of them were. The monarch is a common -butterfly in the North, one of our most conspicuous varieties from early -summer until the low swung sun beckons them South, whither they migrate -in accumulating swarms from September until frost. In Massachusetts -these migrations never contain enough members to make them conspicuous. -Farther south the numbers increase until from New Jersey south we hear -almost yearly accounts of the swarms. I took one of these monarchs as he -sailed by me across the Orange Park boulevard. He was just <i>Anosia -plexippus</i>, but such a splendid fellow! Never before had I seen a -butterfly of this species quite so large or so richly colored. There was -a velvety quality about all his markings and a sumptuousness of outline -and development that made him far superior to the Northern monarchs -which I have examined closely. Other specimens have confirmed this -impression, and I begin to think that the Southern-born <i>Anosia -plexippus</i>, developing under stronger sun and from a chrysalis -un-chilled by frost, excels in beauty his Northern brother. I wonder if -other butterfly hunters can confirm or disprove this.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span></p> - -<p>Along with the monarch came now and then the viceroy. This too is a -common enough Northern butterfly, so much like the monarch, though of -another genus, that in flight neither I nor the insect-eating birds are -likely to tell the two apart. The monarch is beautiful but not tasty, -and the insect-eaters let him fly by on this account. Something about -him does not agree with them. On the other hand, <i>Basilarchia disippus</i>, -the viceroy, is delectable from the flycatcher’s point of taste. But he -escapes because he resembles the monarch. Hence many scientists say that -the viceroy “imitates” the monarch for protection. In this I take it -that they mean that he escapes because he resembles, not that he -consciously assumes the colors of, the other insect. The survival of the -fittest works inexorably, but without the consciousness of the -individual. At any rate, the viceroy resembles the monarch very closely, -though as a rule he is not so large.</p> - -<p>The magnificence of the Florida monarch I find somewhat reflected in his -viceroy, nevertheless, for the Florida viceroys seem to me larger and -more richly colored than those of New England. This difference has led -one authority on Southern butterflies to adopt a new name for this -dissembler, calling the local <i>Basilarchia disippus</i>, <i>Basilarchia -floridensis</i>. Then another came along and called him <i>Basilarchia eros</i>. -But why?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span> The insect is in all respects the same as the disippus except -that he is a wee bit bigger and richer in coloration. But so, I believe, -is the monarch, down here. It seems to me like classifying Bill Jones as -of a different family from his brother Sam Jones, just because Bill has -browner whiskers and weighs forty pounds more.</p> - -<p>But while I captured and examined monarchs and viceroys and released -them with vain speculations as to what other people thought of them and -why, <i>Dione vanillae</i> came along, and away went thoughts of potentates -and of hair-splitting classifiers. She soared low as if to alight at my -feet, and I saw the rich orange yellow of the upper sides of her -aristocratic wings. She hovered and danced up by my eyes, and she seemed -robed in shimmering silver, so profusely are the metallic moons -scattered over her under wings, and through it all she seemed to blush a -vivid red.</p> - -<p>This butterfly I had never seen, and though for two or three days she -and her bewitching sisters seemed to swarm I have not yet disentangled -my soul from her fascinations. No one of the dancing sisterhood passes -me but I pursue with the net for the joy of looking closely at so -beautiful a creature, though I handle with tenderness and release after -gloating. The lovely, fulvous orange which marks the fritillaries seems -in Dione to be just a shade richer, but toward the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span> bases of the wings -it blushes into a rich wine red, a pellucid crimson, while beneath, the -after-wings are as studded with glittering silver spots as a Nautch girl -with silver bangles. I do not wonder that Dione soars demurely for only -a moment, then seems to have to dance in pure abandonment of joy in her -own dainty, beautiful completeness. I have said the cloudless sulphur is -the loveliest of Southern butterflies, and in spite of temptation I -cling to the statement, but <i>Dione vanillae</i> is the most bewitching.</p> - -<p>Of the other varieties of demure, delightful, sedate, serene, -fascinating or frivolous butterflies that passed within reach of my net -as I simply stood and watched them that most wonderful day I might name -a dozen. The numbers, of all varieties, were countless, and all were -moving south. I do not think it a conscious migration. Yet it has all -the effect of that. A butterfly, like a migrating bird, flies best -against a gentle wind. It is time now for the first of the wild geese to -be on their way down from the Arctic, flying and feeding across the -Northern States. You will find them feeding or resting when the wind is -out of the north. When it blows in the higher atmosphere from the south -the long harrows breast it with ease, high up, and seem to make their -way as rapidly and as far as possible while it lasts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></p> - -<p>On days when the wind blows from the north down here there is a bit of -the northern chill in the air. No more than enough to give a needed -stimulus to a Northern man, to make him wish to tramp far and see all -things, but to the Southern sun-born butterfly this chill spells no -thoroughfare. All traffic is suspended on such days, and though in sunny -sheltered corners you may find many or all varieties, only such vigorous -fellows as the monarchs fly high or far. In other words, on sunny days -with a southern wind there is a steady southward migration of all -strong-winged butterflies, a movement that sends literally thousands -upon thousands in the course of a day across miles of country. This is -not conscious or purposeful migration as is the movement of the birds at -this time of year, but the aggregate result is much the same. Nor is the -rate of passage of individuals at all slow. I find when I sweep at one -of these southbound fellows with the net and then, missing him, attempt -to follow his flight, I migrate southward at a jog trot that would mean -five or six miles an hour. The butterflies that started out earliest on -that sunny November morning were a dozen miles nearer the head-waters of -the St. Johns when the chill of late afternoon overtook them.</p> - -<p>I have named the, to me, loveliest and most fascinating of these -November migrants. So far<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span> I have found two others most interesting. One -of these is <i>Anosia berenice</i>, which, according to my reading of -butterfly authorities, has no business here at all. Berenice, surnamed -the queen, is of the same genus as the monarch, the only other species -of the genus found in the United States. The color is a livid brown, not -differing much from that of the monarch to the casual glance. The white -spots on the wings are similarly placed but the black veining is absent -on the upper sides.</p> - -<p>I had supposed the queen was found only in the southwest, in Arizona and -New Mexico, and was greatly delighted to find many specimens floating -about, feeding on the same blossoms as the monarch, and in many ways -seeming worthy to be a consort. Like <i>Anosia plexippus Anosia berenice</i> -has some quality which makes insect-eating birds shun it. In the -southwest <i>Basilarchia hulsti</i> mimics the queen as the viceroy mimics -the monarch. The two mimics are quite similar in appearance, and I shall -look with care at each viceroy which passes in hopes of finding him the -imitator of the queen.</p> - -<p>The other most interesting variety is the zebra. In shape this insect -differs from all the other butterflies found here, or indeed in the -eastern United States. His wings are long and narrow, giving him -somewhat the appearance of a gaudily<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span> painted dragon fly. But his flight -is serene and seemingly slow. It was two days after his disappearance -before I saw him again, and then I did not recognize him. The richly -contrasting black and gold of his upper side I did not then see, for he -floated above me. I only knew that here was a peculiarly shaped brown -fellow going easily by. This time he was easily captured. Not till I had -him in the net did I see his upper side and recognize my escaped -convict.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /><br /> -<small>ALONG THE RIVER MARGIN</small></h2> - -<p>One of the sweetest of Southern trees at this time of the year is the -loquat, which is not by right of birth a Southern tree at all, being -transplanted from Japan. However the loquats have been here long enough -to be naturalized and seem Southern with that extra fillip of fervor -which marks, often, the adopted citizen. Their odor was the first to -greet me on landing at the long dock at Orange Park, floating on the -amorous air with sure suggestion of paradise just beyond. At the time I -thought it just the “spicy tropic smell” that always comes off shore to -greet one in low latitudes, whether on the road to Mandalay or Trinidad -or Honolulu. Usually it is born of Southern pines whose resinous -distillation bears on its rough shoulders breath of jasmine, tuberose or -such other climber or bulb bearer as happens to be in bloom.</p> - -<p>Off shore in the West Indies the froth of the brine seems to play ball -with these odors, tossing them on the trade winds leagues to leeward, -till<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span> one wonders if Columbus might not have hunted the new world by -scent. Later in the year, say February or March, this perfume might well -be compounded of orange blossoms, but just now, when the oranges, -hereabouts at least, are waiting for the winter frosts to be over before -they bloom, it is the loquat trees which take up the burden of scent. -The loquat is a handsome tree, suggesting in its shape and dark green -leaves the horse-chestnut. The blooms are in corymbs, and their -cotton-downy, yellowish-white flowers are not so very different to the -casual glance from those of the buckeye. With one of those fairy-like -surprises that the South constantly gives you the tree however does not -produce horse-chestnuts, but an edible, yellow, plum-like fruit, whence -its other, common name of Japanese plum.</p> - -<p>All night the loquat blooms send their rich perfume questing off shore -along the banks of the St. Johns, and the big yellow stars swing so low -that it is hard to tell which is the heavenly illumination and which the -trawl marks of the fishermen, lanterns hung from poles where the trawls -lie in wait for channel cats. In the gray of sudden dawn you find these -fishermen rowing home again, black silhouettes against a black river, -and I often wonder if the scent of the loquats, slipping riverward in -the lee of the long<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span> dock does not unconsciously guide them, they find -port so surely without beacon.</p> - -<p>It is very sudden, this gray of dawn. It is as if some one turned a -switch, paused for a moment only to see that the first turn had taken -effect, then turned another which released the spring beneath the sun, -after which it is all over. Daybreak I am convinced is a word coined -between the tropics. No man born north of latitude forty would speak of -day as breaking. There the dawn comes as leisurely as a matinée girl to -breakfast; here it pops like popcorn. With the coming of day on this -bank of the St. Johns the pungent odor of wood smoke cuts off the scent -of the November blooming loquats. The smoke of a Southern pine fire is -an aroma decorated with perfume. To me the smell of wood smoke of any -kind is always delightful. It sniffs of campfires and the open road, of -blankets beneath boughs and the long peace of the stars. The fire whence -it comes may be guiltless of any outdoor hearth. It may be -half-smothered among brick chimneys, built to cook porridge for life -prisoners in a city jail, for all I know, but the smoke is free. It was -born of the woods, where it gathered all spices to its bosom, and though -the log crumbles to ashes in durance, the smoke is the spirit of freedom -and can mean nothing else to him who has once smelled it in the wild. If -I am ever a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span> life prisoner, I hope they will not let me get scent of -wood smoke. If they do, on that day I shall break jail or die in the -attempt.</p> - -<p>The wood burned here for breakfast fires is the Southern pitch pine, -whose smoke seems to carry in its free pungency a finer spiciness than -comes with the smoke of other woods. One born to it ought to be sure he -is home again by the first whiff. It differs from that of white pine, -fir or spruce, this long-leaf pine smoke, and I am sure that if you -brought me magically from the Adirondacks or the Aroostook in my sleep -and landed me in the barrens I should know my location, however dark the -night, the very moment the wind blew the campfire smoke my way.</p> - -<p>Every Southern backyard seems to hold the big, black, three-legged iron -pot for boiling clothes, and I know not what other incantatory purposes. -Beneath this, too, they burn an open fire of pitch wood, so often I may -walk all day long with this subtle essence of freedom in my nostrils, a -tonic to neutralize the languor that comes down river with the breeze -out of the tropic heart of the peninsula. I walked south to meet this -breeze this morning, with the morning sun on my left shoulder, the blue -sea of the broad river stretching five or six miles beneath it to the -haze of the distant bank. On my right was the ten-foot sand bluff of the -bank and I waded with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span> the aquatic cows, now knee-deep in shallows on a -sandy bottom, now following their paths through margins of close-cropped -water hyacinths, over mangrove roots and through the mud of marsh edges, -and again along a dry bank of clean white sand. To know a river takes -many expeditions, and one of these should surely be afoot along its -shallows.</p> - -<p>The brackish tides that swirl up from the sea to the deep water off the -Jacksonville wharves speed with little loss of vigor on, many broad -miles into the heart of Florida. To march along this water is to -promenade a river side and a sea beach in one. Splashing through the -shallows I find the water as full of fish life as the woods are of -birds, or the air of butterflies. You can look nowhere without seeing -one, usually all forms in numbers. The mullet leap sometimes six feet in -the air from the river surface, gleaming silver in the sun. A blue crab -scuttles, left side foremost, from the margin toward deep water, his -blue claws conspicuous and marking the species, which is Southern in its -habitat though found in numbers as far north as the Jersey coast. This -crab is very plentiful here, the neighbors catching him with ease by the -simple expedient of tying a piece of ancient meat to a string which they -drop from the wharf and occasionally draw up. The crab will be found -feeding on and so</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_004" style="width: 564px;"> -<a href="images/i004_page30.jpg"> -<img src="images/i004_page30.jpg" width="564" height="401" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“To march along this water is to promenade a river side -and a sea beach in one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">gripping the meat with those blue claws that he may be dropped on the -dock or in a pail by shaking him off.</p> - -<p>By the river at night may be seen a fine example of the continuance of a -trade not taught in schools or in books, but handed down from father to -son for countless generations. The fishing for channel cats in the St. -Johns is a good business. The fish run from a few pounds in weight up to -thirty or thirty-five. They sell in the rough for two and a half cents a -pound. Nobody about here will eat cats and they are shipped north, I -suspect to become boneless cod. But the cat fishing is not what I mean, -it is the shrimping. These curious, bug-like creatures infest the river, -and the negro fishermen capture them at night in primitive circular nets -which have lead weights about the circumference and are held by a rope -from the center. The fishermen cast these upon the surface by a peculiar -motion which spreads them out flat. Then they sink and are drawn up by -the central rope, looking for all the world like a dangling lace -petticoat with shrimps and small fishes entangled in the lace. The water -laps in ghostly fashion under the piers and the lantern light makes -grotesque creatures out of an elder world of the fishermen.</p> - -<p>Here, I suspect, is a fine survival. Were not the nets that Peter and -his brethren cast into<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span> Galilee of this fashion? Did not the fishermen -of an ancient legend who drew up the bottle which contained an afreet, -find its cork entangled in a net like one of these? The slippers of Abu -Kassim, in the Persian story, desperately thrown away and brought back -again always by most untimely rescue—were not these hauled from the -Euphrates once by a fisherman with just such a net? I believe so. But -our thought, tangled like the shrimp in the net, has traveled a long -way.</p> - -<p>The name of the water hyacinth is linked for all time with Florida’s -broad river. Here where the tide flows in the main stream I see but -little of it. Now and then a fleet of tiny green boats floats boldly -down as if piratically planning to take the open sea, with green -halberds pointed bravely over blunt, round bows. I fancy the salt of the -real sea is too much for these bold voyageurs, but they line the river -bank everywhere, rarely a leaf showing along the main river, so closely -are they cropped by the roaming aquatic cattle. These whet appetites of -a morning on the hyacinths as they step over the green blanket of them -that hides the sand. They breakfast far from shore on the homely -waterweed, <i>Anarcharis canadensis</i> I take it to be, that grows so -plentifully in water a few feet deep. Then they wade in again and give -the hyacinths another crop as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span> they go by to rest beneath the live-oaks -and chew the cud of contentment.</p> - -<p>This makes the hyacinths which blanket the shore but squat -agglomerations of green-air bulbs that give one little idea of the real -plant. These grow persistently, however, and now and then blossom out of -season because of this pruning, showing a wonderful blue, hyacinth-like -bloom that one might almost take for a translucent blue orchid, the -standard petal larger and deeper blue with a mark like a yellow -fleur-de-lis on it, a blossom that makes the banks of the St. Johns in -spring a blue sheen of dainty color.</p> - -<p>But you need to get away from the frequented banks of the river to see -the water hyacinth in full growth. There, uncropped by cattle and -unmolested, the plants crowd creeks from bank to bank with serried ranks -of leaves whose deep green gives a fine color but whose culms -effectually stop all navigation.</p> - -<p>I was splashing along through the shallows that border this riverbank -hyacinth blanket, headed toward a great bed of pied-billed grebes that -were resting and feeding in a shallow near the entrance to Doctor’s -Lake, when I had my first tiny adventure of the day. Right among the -hyacinths near my feet I heard a scream of pain and terror. Very human -it was, but tiny and with an elfin quality about it. I stepped to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span> -right and it was at my left. I stepped to the left and it was at my -right. I looked down, but it sounded twice before I located it.</p> - -<p>Then I saw a small green frog, one with a body an inch and a half long, -whose hind leg was caught beneath the water hyacinths. He it was that -was giving these most human-like little screeches. Almost I reached to -disentangle his foot with my finger. Then I bethought me what country I -was in and poked with the handle of a net that I had with me, instead. -This was just as well, for the poking disclosed the arrow-shaped head -and baleful eyes of a young water moccasin. A blow or two broke his hold -on the frog, that stopped his yelling forthwith and hopped eagerly away. -The snake was soon despatched. He was only nine inches long, and how he -hoped to swallow a frog so big I cannot say. Common report says he could -stretch his rubber neck four times its usual size and accomplish his -dinner.</p> - -<p>Sitting in a clean sandbank, and safe, no doubt, I soon got intent on my -birds. Never before had I seen so many grebes. There were easily half a -thousand of them swimming about in such close communion that they -jostled one another, all pied-bills. I saw no alien among them. Some -rocked on the wavelets, their heads down between their shoulders, -seeming half asleep. Others fed industriously. The water of the shallows -along</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_005" style="width: 563px;"> -<a href="images/i005_page34.jpg"> -<img src="images/i005_page34.jpg" width="563" height="374" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Lesser scaup ducks are very tame in Florida waters all -winter<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">here is so full of small fish that they had little trouble in getting -their fill. Some seemed to succeed by merely dipping the head and -picking up what came within reach. Others swam sedately, then of a -sudden leapt into the air and curled below in a lightning-like plunge -that often brought up a big one.</p> - -<p>Before long I began to see that the great community was made up of -families or associates, of two to five, oftenest three, as if this -year’s father and mother kept the young still in charge. Now and then -one grebe seemed to rush to another that had just come up and receive -something from the resurgent bill, as if the mother had captured a -special titbit which was passed over to the young. Sometimes, too, the -would-be recipient was chided away with a sharp dab of the bill instead -of the reached-for refreshment. Here no doubt was a bunco child, and the -parent was too keen to be thus swindled. In that case the dab that -rebuffed the impostor was followed by a swallow that settled the matter -as far as that particular young mullet was concerned. There was, -however, always a strong community spirit. The most of the five hundred -coursed the shallows in one direction, swimming all heads one way with -something like army discipline. The leader of this company had but to -turn and swim back and the whole array turned front and made in the -opposite direc<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span>tion. Yet there were squads under secondary leadership, -for now and then a flock of twenty or so would rise and fly swiftly up -or down stream without drawing the others. At such times a quaint little -croaking cry was exchanged by many birds.</p> - -<p>I might have learned more had I not happened to look sharp at the sand -not far from my elbow. Something rather indistinct there took shape -after a little, and a troubled conscience sent me up in the air, perhaps -not so high as the top of the bayberry shrubs, but if not it was not my -fault. I certainly had a strong desire to sit on top of them. The nearer -grebes squawked and fled, but little did I care for them, for there in -the sand at my feet as I came down I saw the ghost of my little -moccasin, a stubby little nine-inch gray creature whose curious black -mottlings left him still indistinct among his surroundings.</p> - -<p>After all, it was but a ghost of a little gray snake, probably dead, for -he did not move. Grown bold I turned him over with the toe of my big -boot. He lay motionless. Then I gave him an extra poke and suddenly -moved away some yards, for he turned back upon his belly, raised a -threatening head and began to grow. All the cobras in India, -concentrated, could not have looked more venomous. His markings became -distinct and glowed. Two black loops far down<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span> on his neck became like -great eyes, and the whole snake became so big of head that I looked for -legs, thinking he must be some sort of lizard after all. Never have I -seen a nine-inch creature look so portentous, and when I whacked him on -the head with my net pole and stretched him out, undoubtedly dead, I had -vague feelings that I was dealing with a magical creature that might at -the next move become a dragon like those of King Arthur’s time and take -me down at one fiery gulp.</p> - -<p>It was my first encounter with a harmless inhabitant of the sandy -barrens, the hog-nosed snake. The reptile may grow to a length of three -feet. He has neither fangs nor venom, but he does not need them. When -cornered he simply swells up to thrice his usual size, hisses, and acts -generally as if built out of mowing machines and loaded with cyanide of -potassium. I am still congratulating myself that this sand baby was not -full-grown. If he had been, and terror can kill, the tiny frog-chaser of -the water hyacinths would surely have been avenged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><br /> -<small>BIRDS OF A MORNING</small></h2> - -<p>An early December bird student in northern Florida suffers from -embarrassment of riches. Never elsewhere have I seen so many varieties -of birds in such numbers. Never elsewhere have I seen such abundant -opportunities for watched birds to hide themselves. The live-oaks range -from shrubs to huge trees, their dense, glossy leaves reflecting the -sunlight and making the spaces behind them vague with shadows. These may -be full of birds; except for a twitter or the flirt of a wing you would -never know it. One after another draws away the drapery of Spanish moss -from an entrance and slips in, or a flock may whirl out and into another -tree, portières of gray lace opening to let them out, and closing behind -them as they enter.</p> - -<p>I have spent many mornings trying to determine which bird is the first -up. During the hot spell of two weeks ago, when the thermometer danced -in the shade with the eighties all day and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span> sank to sweet slumber with -the sixties at night I was quite convinced that it must be the -mockingbird, just because I heard him first. Then quite a few mockers -used to greet the coming of the sun with melody, rolling golden notes of -delightful song over the dew-wet sands from some topmost twig. Just in -front of the house on the river bank is a group of yuccas, fifteen feet -tall or so, stabbing the soft air in all directions with their -needle-pointed Spanish bayonets.</p> - -<p>I fancy every Northerner has to learn the full stabbing power of these -bayonets by experience. A thicket of them is beautiful in its dark green -setting of slim-pointed rosettes and is impassable to a white man as the -outer rim of a British square. It would take a Fuzzy-wuzzy of the -Soudanese tribes to break through in the one case as in the other. I -once read in a novel of a lover who followed the desire of his heart to -Florida, and at the critical moment forced his way to her “penetrating a -thicket of Spanish bayonet.” I now realize that this lover was a man of -steel, else the thicket had penetrated him. Inadvertently I leaned a -little closer to one of these yucca groups the other day, and went to -the repair shop with nineteen punctures, being fortunate that I did not -permanently remain “hung” in the larder of the butcher bird—of whom -more anon.</p> - -<p>The top of a yucca is crowned each summer<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span> with a most beautiful pyramid -of waxy, pale yellow flowers, a spike several feet tall with drooping -blooms most delightful to behold, followed by pods that are now -approaching maturity, looking much like stubby green bananas ripening to -a glossy brownish red. On the top of one of these pod-pyramids a mocking -bird used to sit during the warm spell, greeting the dawn with golden -uproar. He and his fellows were most lively then, filling the thickets -with harsh chirps when not singing. The songs of different mockers vary -much, but their chirps are alike and are certainly most unmusical. They -are loud, harsh and guttural. The “mia-u-w” of a catbird is a burst of -melody in comparison.</p> - -<p>But that singing was all for the hot weather. Suddenly the other night -the wind came up out of the north, the mercury fell in the thermometer -to the late forties, and we all froze to death—not as to our bodies, -which simply grew goose-flesh, but in our minds. Singular thing, the -Northern mind. It comes down to Florida from a country where the winter -mercury dandles the zero mark on its knee mornings. It finds the jasmine -in bloom and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. A few mornings -later it finds the mercury at thirty-eight and frost on the jasmine. -This does not specially trouble the jasmine, but it so freezes the -Northern mind that the Northern<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span> body has to sit over roaring fires and -rub its goose-flesh until the temperature rises again. But that is -Florida.</p> - -<p>After a second or third forty-degrees-above cold snap the visitor from -frozen climes gets his balance and forgets to shiver, finding the chill -a tonic and the mid-day warmth delightful. So I fancy it is with the -mocking birds. They seem livelier now that cool weather has come, they -chirp and flutter about with much more energy, but not one of them has -opened his mouth in song since the mercury hit fifty. My front-door -friend still sits on his yucca pod part of the day, however, and still I -am puzzled to know when he leaves it and his double comes on duty.</p> - -<p>He is a rather interesting fellow, this double, whom I need not have -mistaken for the mocker at all, he is so different a bird. Yet he is -about the same size, white beneath and with a good deal of gray in his -upper works. Bill and tail differ from those of the mocker; still, at a -distance of a hundred feet a casual glance did not enlighten me. I am -still wondering if there is method in this quiet substitution. The -double is a loggerhead shrike, the Southern butcher-bird. He feeds upon -small birds, and he might well choose the perch which the mocker had -just vacated as a most desirable hunting stand. Small birds flitting -back and forth in the early morning would<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span> hear the mocker singing and -know that he would never harm them. Then an hour or two later, flying by -in perfect confidence, they would find themselves in the crooked beak of -the loggerhead, to be impaled on one of the thorns of the yucca beneath -the perch and there dissected at leisure, or left to wait while the -loggerhead takes his ease, “hung” as we say of ducks and snipe.</p> - -<p>Does the loggerhead take the mocking bird’s perch with forethought, -bearing the opportunity in mind and trusting to the resemblance, or is -it just a case of a convenient perch with both birds? He who can read -the loggerhead’s mind may be able to tell me. So far I have failed to -catch the butcher bird at his butchery, and though I look doubtfully at -those convenient Spanish bayonet tips as I pass, I find I am the only -innocent thus far impaled on them.</p> - -<p>Of these small birds that the loggerhead might capture the very name is -legion. All warblers seem to be here, and if they are difficult to keep -track of in the North, here they are well nigh impossible. I find a -live-oak tree full of uncountable flocks. I get the glass on one bird, -and before I can begin to note his characteristics he has flitted like a -shadow and another with far different markings is in his place. Birds -that one knows at a glance may thus be noted at a glance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span> but the rarer -varieties crowd in upon these until the mind in trying to distinguish -and remember becomes inextricably confused and finally gives up in -despair. I am beginning to believe that every small bird in Chapman’s -“Birds of Eastern North America” is in convention on the west bank of -the St. Johns. Some wiser and more farsighted man than I will have to -tell how many varieties of warblers, finches, sparrows, and flycatchers -may be seen on one good day in early December on the lower banks of the -big river of Florida.</p> - -<p>It is a relief to cross the trails of some more easily seen songsters. -Take the Florida crows, for instance. These are a relaxation rather than -a study. They lack the sardonic virility of their Northern cousins, -these fish crows. They are smaller, not so strong of flight, and their -call has none of the deep “caw, caw, caw” of our bird of canny humor. -Their flight is flappy and less certain, and their cries have a humorous -gurgle in them that seems hardly grown up. They seem like boys that have -just reached the age when the voice breaks with a queer croak in it that -makes you laugh. <i>Corvus americana</i> seems most of the time to be on -definite business. In Massachusetts I have found him in the main -forceful, dignified, and seemingly doing something worth while. <i>Corvus -ossifragus</i> just straggles along<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span> with his fellows, having a mighty good -time, and croaking hysterically about it.</p> - -<p>It is a poor half-hour for birds when I do not find one of these flaming -fellows the cardinals setting the thicket on fire. In the warm weather -the cardinals were accustomed to whistle to me. The call, loud and -clear, has a round cheeriness in it that should drive away all -melancholy. The cardinal does not seem in the least afraid of me. If I -approach him he may fly away at the last moment, but more often he -simply sidles around the tree in a stiff, wooden sort of way that he -has, remaining quiet if just a few strands of moss are between us. He -seems to do this with deprecatory awkwardness, as if he knew he dazzled -and tried to be humble about it. I do not think it can be to get out of -sight altogether. If so it is a mistaken caution, for his flame will -burn through quite a bit of gray moss, and where it is shielded by the -deep, shiny green of live-oak leaves it flares only the brighter by the -contrast.</p> - -<p>His wife is even more beautifully clad, and though her olive green and -ashy gray ought to make her less conspicuous the telltale cardinal -blazes on crest, wings and tail, and I am likely to see her about as far -as her flaming consort. I have not heard the female sing, though in -defiance to the usual custom among song birds she is said to, a softer -and even prettier song than that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span> of her vivid mate. But even the male -cardinal does not sing when it is cold, and I have not heard a note from -any of them since the mercury got down to the forty neighborhood.</p> - -<p>Passing from the puzzling opacity of live-oak groves and palmetto scrub -I found myself later in a country far better fitted for hunting birds by -sight. That was one of the interminable stretches of long-leaved pine -forest of which this part of Florida is largely made. Here are trees -that shoot up straight as arrows, sixty to a hundred feet high. Rarely -is there a limb in the first fifty feet and the plumed tops seem to -intercept the vivid sunlight but little. Under foot the carpet of twelve -to fifteen inch needles is well called pine straw. It is a place of -singular silence and a bewildering sameness. Along interminable levels -you may look for what seem endless miles between these straight trunks -till they draw together in the gray distance and, in kindness, shut off -the view. One needs a compass and provisions to plunge, a wandering -submarine, beneath this sea of similarity, and I skirted its edge only, -lest I get lost and spend my days in an unending circuit.</p> - -<p>Slipping along this polishing carpet of needles I heard what I at first -took to be the familiar note of chickadees. Yet it was not that either. -It was too throaty and lacked the gleeful definiteness of the chickadee. -In fact it was a poor attempt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></p> - -<p>Soon I saw the birds, gleaning in a gray group, hanging this way and -that just as chickadees do. They had decided crests and I quite readily -recognized them for the tufted titmouse which in this country takes the -place of the chickadee.</p> - -<p>The flock passed busily on and for a moment the silence of the place was -impressive. A gentle wind was slightly swaying the tops of these tall -trees, but there was no song of the pines to be heard. Underfoot -partridge berry and pipsissewa, pyrola and club moss, which by right -should always grow under pines, were not to be seen. Only the rich brown -of the pine straw and the dark mould of decaying fallen trunks was -there. Here and there a tiny shrub, usually a scrub live-oak, put out a -feeble green, but it was not enough to break the monotony of melancholy -that seemed to pervade the place. It was broken, though, in another -moment. There was a whirr of wings and half-a-dozen birds dived, -seemingly out of heaven, each on his own route, whirled with a whirrup -of wings and lighted lightly as an athlete each on his chosen tree -trunk.</p> - -<p>It was like a circus act. For a moment each bird remained motionless, -his stiff tail feathers jammed into the trunk below him, his head drawn -back as if awaiting a signal, and through the melancholy silence came a -creaking “k-r-r-k,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span> kr-r-r-k.” It might have been a weather-vane swaying -in the wind or it might have been tree toads. But it was neither. It was -simply the voice of a flock of red-headed woodpeckers. These birds are -rare in my locality North, but they seem here to be familiar spirits of -the wood. Smaller and less beautiful than partridge woodpeckers, they -seem much like them in their antics, which are always clown-like and -amusing. They tap wood and pull grubs as if they knew I was looking at -them and wanted to make the little farce as funny as possible.</p> - -<p>The circus clown might well take the spirit of his antics from the -actions of red-headed woodpeckers in a Southern pine forest. After -scrambling in a jerky ludicrousness up a stub one would pause on the top -of it motionless for a time, reminding me of an awkward boy trying to -pose as Ajax defying the lightning. Then another would dive at him in -full flight, driving him from his perch at the last moment, only to take -it and assume the exact pose of the former, the whole thing done with -the alert precision of a pair of good circus performers. Then the -substitute, still motionless, would give his little treetoad-like creak, -as if saying in humorous humility, “How’s that for an act?” Taine, the -historian, has written of the immense loneliness of the pine barrens. -But it is to be supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span> that Taine was never entertained there by a -flock of red-headed woodpeckers. But then, there are people whom -vaudeville makes lonely.</p> - -<p>I have not named the half of the birds I can identify of a morning in -this great aviary, nor have I named the two that pleased me most. One -was just plain bluebird, a young bird of a silent flock that slipped -through the trees of the town. This young bird had not yet his mature -plumage, and he hung behind and peered about in an uncertain way as if -much impressed with the wonders of this new place to which mother had -brought him, but still a bit lonesome and unsettled. I was right glad to -see bluebirds. I have looked in vain so far for robins. The other is a -bird that came with the cold snap and hangs about the tip of the Orange -Park dock almost a quarter of a mile out in the river, without visible -means of support. He hides under the stringers when I approach him, but -I have had several good views, and if I know a snow bunting when I see -one, this is he. What business he has so far South is more than I can -tell, and he seems to feel an alien by the way he clings to the -seclusion of the dock. Perhaps he came on the wrong boat and is only -waiting for a return ticket. At any rate I was glad to see him and I -wish him a safe return.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /><br /> -<small>’TWIXT ORANGE GROVE AND SWAMP</small></h2> - -<p>The old Greek myth-makers sang with poetic fervor of the golden apples -of the Hesperides, which no doubt were oranges, nor do I blame them for -their fervor. Apples they knew, and knew, too, that nothing could be -more beautiful than an apple tree, holding its dappled fruit bravely up -to the pale October sun. But oranges came to them out of the misty west, -a region that the setting sun set glowing with romance each night, and -then swathed in the purple evanescence of darkness. Something of this -delight of mystery has flavored the fruit ever since, and we taste it -with mental palate before its pulp passes the lips.</p> - -<p>I had thought all the orange trees of northern Florida killed by the -great cold of a decade ago, and so in the main they were. But there are -spots on the east bank of the lower St. Johns where the miles of warm -water tempered the cold somewhat, so that though the trees were cut to -the ground the life in the roots remained and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span> has since burgeoned in -reborn groves. The trees sprouted from the stump as oaks and chestnuts -do in a Northern woodland, and now the sprouts bear fruit. At Mandarin, -a dozen miles from Jacksonville, are such groves through one of which I -delight to take my way to “the branch.” It is literally a branch of the -level river into which it so smoothly glides with never a ripple on its -black surface or a clot of foam to cloud its mirror.</p> - -<p>Swamp and grove meet but do not mingle, the dividing line being firmly -drawn by the teeth of the harrow that all summer long vexes the sand -beneath the orange trees. With all its persistence this harrow barely -keeps down the scutch and dog fennel and a score or two of other weeds -that under soaking shower and fervid sun continually rise rampant. Even -now that the almanac has decreed winter rosettes of seedlings of a score -of nascent annuals spangle the gray with green that softens its glare to -the eye and tempts the knight-errant grasshoppers. These zip from glare -to glare, and seem to creak a bit as the tiny coolness of the northern -breeze touches the joints of their machinery.</p> - -<p>Sitting in the grateful shadow of an orange tree, facing sunward in the -grove, the world becomes an expanse of glistening white sand, blotched -with the deep green masses of foliage,</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_006" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/i006_page50.jpg"> -<img src="images/i006_page50.jpg" width="416" height="586" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“In the grateful shadow of an orange tree facing sunward -in the grove<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">dappled with the gold of as yet unpicked fruit. Over yonder a short -ladder spires above a tree and I can hear the snip-snip of the picker’s -shears and the soft thud of fruit dropped into big bags. The noise fits -in with the rampant listlessness of the creaking grasshopper machinery, -a busy, drowsy blurring of staccato sounds that has a sleepy insistence. -It fits the gray glitter of the sand and the shining sun. I note an -orange sulphur butterfly, just the color of the fruit on which he seems -to linger, where in the sun he may match his own shade. I have a fancy -that he does this consciously, the dark tips of his wings contrasting -harmoniously, as the black-green, glossy foliage does, with the golden -fruit.</p> - -<p>Something of this semi-conscious matching up of colors seems to exist in -other insect life of the grove. The “orange puppy” that feeds on the -young leaves is black with the same quality of blackness and curiously -mottled with a cool gray of lichens and gray moss. When he rests quietly -on a twig he is part of its growth, simply a gnarled excrescence, but no -caterpillar. When by and by he tucks himself up for slumber in silk -homespun and later, joyous, emerges, he has still the colors of the -orange grove, the pale yellow of ripening fruit, barred with the dark -shadows that are set by linear leaves on all that flits beneath them. -One finds many happy insects<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span> among the oranges, too many perhaps for -the joy of the grower, the perfection of whose product they mar. None -should be happier than this <i>Papilio cresphontes</i> butterfly that is -hatched on an orange twig, fattened on the crisp green leaves, falls -asleep in their shadow and finally wakes, a spike-tailed fairy with -shimmering black and gold wings, to drink deep of the honeyed dew in the -gold hearts of odorous orange blossoms.</p> - -<p>On the edge of the grove, at the very mark of the harrow, rises the -tangle of the swamp margin. On the higher ground is the sumac, the -leaves still green, though ripening in the margins to a dull red, -holding none of the vivid flame that burns the Northern sumac leaves to -ashes before October is over. It is December, indeed, and the wind out -of the north has sometimes a wire edge of northern ice on it, but the -first margin of dense trees that lines the river bank takes off this -edge and the sun floods all the sheltered places with warmth that bids -one seek the shade for shelter. There still he finds a sniff of tonic -ozone in the air, expanding the exultant spirit while yet the body -revels in a genial glow. The day seems a child of June, with October for -its father. Elder crowds the sumac and blackberry canes tangle the two. -The scuppernong grape twines supple vines all about and hangs its -crinkly pale green leaves in festoons to the tops of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span> sweet-gum -trees in the swamp behind. The pale amber wine of the scuppernong grape -seems to hold in its depths something of the golden delight of this -December sun, and just a tang of the vigor of the north wind.</p> - -<p>The sweet-gum tree fills the swampy ground along the St. Johns -“branches” and sheds its maple-like leaves in December. Sailing up the -broad river you may trace the swampy spots now by the soft gray of bare -twigs of the sweet gum, in beautiful contrast to the glossy dark green -of live-oak and the paler silkiness of plumy tops of the long-leaved -pines of the barrens. Its roots dispute the very black depths of the -flowing waters with those of the cypress, and its purpling autumn leaves -seem like those of a Massachusetts swamp maple that have by some -mischance ripened without vividness. The sour-gum tree, which is nothing -more than the tupelo which grows on the swamp edges at home, thrives as -well in Florida and is true to its colors. The rich red of its leaves -makes the most vivid blotches of autumn coloring I have yet found here. -Along with the scuppernong grows its cousin vine, the Virginia creeper. -This too holds much of its Northern red in the passing leaves. The -homesick Northerner in Florida at this time of year will do well to take -to the swamps. The pinky gray of baring sweet-gum twigs, the rich red -of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span> the bordering tupelos and the festooning ampelopsis will do much to -make him feel at home.</p> - -<p>Just beyond the mark of the harrow tooth the goldenrod has bloomed and -the fluffy plumes of brown seed pappus mound into obese, inverted -cornucopias for the seed-eating birds that flock along the swamp margin. -The grapes and the Virginia creepers have been high-minded and have not -rested without topping the tallest trees, but the greenbrier seems to -have had less ambition. It has been content to help the blackberries -tousle the close-set margin of the field, and its glossy green leaves -and purple berries add their colors to the rest. The greenbrier here is -gentler in its ways than our Northern representative. That well merits -the name of horsebrier which is often given it. It is as strong as a -horse and the kick-back of its stretched sinews will drive its numerous -thorns to the hilt in your obtruding flesh. This vine has hardly thorns -enough to be felt, and its leaves instead of ovate are hastate or -halberd-shaped, whence I take the plant to be the <i>Smilax auriculata</i>.</p> - -<p>I doubt if I would change Northern thickets in any particular, but if I -would it should be to suggest gently to the horsebrier that its Southern -cousin’s ways are most admirable and might be imitated to advantage. The -auriculata does grip you valiantly and even scratch your legs when you<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span> -would penetrate it with undue haste, but it is such a polite and -lady-like scratch in comparison with some that might be mentioned that -you feel like saying “thank you” rather than other things. In the wetter -spots big purple asters which I take to be <i>Aster elliottii</i>, out of all -the maze of scores of varieties of Southern asters, toss their corymbed -heads in the breeze and still invite the passing butterfly. Cool weather -has thinned out the butterflies, only the strongest remaining. About the -asters flit a big and little sulphur and a lone zebra. But there are a -half-dozen monarchs coming and going. These seem to be the strongest and -most able to withstand cool weather of all butterflies. I see them out -earliest in the morning and latest at night, often soaring in shade on -days when the December wind has a Northern nip in it and when no other -varieties are visible.</p> - -<p>Loveliest of all old friends that help to make this thicket-borderland -homelike is the Andropogon, the purple wood-grass, that holds the dryer -corners with its brave wine-red culms and its gray mist of bearded -blooms. The pampas grass is cultivated in gardens here in Florida for -its feathery plumes. These are beautiful, no doubt, but their beauty -cannot compare with that of the clumps of purple wood-grass that grow in -the neglected border between this dark orange grove<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span> with its glistening -white sands and the black depths of the swamp that borders the little -branch. The <i>Andropogon scoparius</i> of our sandy fields north is less -robust than this buxom beauty of the barrens. It grows but a scant knee -high and seems to me now but slender and rather pale. This, which is I -think the <i>Andropogon arctatus</i>, grows to my chin, and its culms seem as -red as the skin of a ripening baldwin apple, a rich wine red that -intoxicates the eye and makes it see in the misty beard of the tips a -frothing as of bubbles rising to the top of a glass but now filled. With -this the Florida fields seem to have as much of the joy of autumn as -they can hold, and in it to drink deep to the passing of the purple -year.</p> - -<p>Through this border tangle one goes to enter the solemn silence of the -swamp where the black water seems to listen as it glides breathlessly by -to the river. In the steaming warmth of midsummer the place must drip -with purple shadows. Now, because the sweet gums and swamp maples are -losing their leaves it holds only a sun-flecked twilight that soothes -after the black shadows beneath the orange trees and the glare of the -sand. Here one may draw a long breath and let the bustle of a busy world -slip from him. I have the same feeling on entering a church of a week -day and hearing the heavy ticking of the clock. The silence broods. The -maples are already bare, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span> gum trees partly, and the feathery fronds -of cypress have grown brown on the trees and in part fallen, slipping -one by one to the placid surface where they add their color to the -purple of the other thick-strewn leaves.</p> - -<p>In these fleets of dead and gone one gets the nearest approach to a -Northern autumn that I have found as yet in all the woods. The small -birds that frequent the groves do not seem to enter here and there is no -sound of their twitter. Only the leaves are noisy within the place. -Those which touch limp margins on the water have found a quiet that is -finality. But their fellows, saying a final good-by to the twig, do it -with little glad chirps as if the spirit within each joyed at its -release. Nor is this the last cry. Many chuckle at each touch of limb -and trunk on the way down and reach the water with an audible pat. Poets -to the contrary notwithstanding, autumn is a joyous time with the -leaves, at least those of deciduous trees. The maples, the sycamores, -and the sweet gums all seem to give the laugh to the evergreens as they -pass. The bare limbs stretch skyward with a relieved resurgence as of -those who have done good work and welcome rest. Compared with them now -the live-oaks seem over-tasked. They are as somber as Northern pines in -winter, burdened with a never-ending routine of business.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></p> - -<p>I cannot say that the swamp cypresses seem glad. They are so weighted -and surpliced with vestments of gray moss, priestly robes that sweep -from upraised arms to the very water, that they are like weird priests -of a lonely world mumbling perpetual incantations deep in their swaying -gray beards.</p> - -<p>The only bird of the swamp to-day was a great heron that looked white as -he stood facing me, his chin in somber meditation on his breast, as if -he might be a carving in stone, that suddenly took flight on tremendous -wings, flapping solemnly out into the river sunshine and taking a post -far out on an ancient, decaying dock. I might better have said becoming -a post, for had I not seen him light I might have sworn he was part of -the structure. He hunched himself up there till he had no more form than -a decaying timber and his big beak, crossed at a wooden right angle to -the rest of him, was exactly as if it had been nailed on. Only with the -bird glass did I make sure that he was not a post after all. Then I -discovered that instead of being the great blue heron, as I at first -supposed, it was the Florida form, known as Ward’s heron, a bird much -like the great blue but even greater, the lower part lighter and the -legs olive instead of black.</p> - -<p>I think Ward’s heron more lonesome and preternaturally solemn than any -other, and he seems</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_007" style="width: 570px;"> -<a href="images/i007_page58.jpg"> -<img src="images/i007_page58.jpg" width="570" height="388" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the -ancient cypress trees<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">to belong under the long robes of gray moss at the foot of the ancient -cypress trees. He is as grotesque and wooden in his make-up as they.</p> - -<p>The passing sun dropped the cool garment of December night lightly down -through the bare limbs. The heron came flapping noiselessly back to his -perch, to sway away like a gray ghost when he saw me still there. The -low latitudes have summer and winter in each twenty-four hours, -midsummer in the fervid warmth of the afternoon sun, midwinter in the -black chill that comes between midnight and dawn. I passed reluctantly -from the swamp while yet the level rays shone in long shafts of light -through the mystic aisles. The heron was waiting to come back. It was -time to be gone, yet I lingered lovingly where in one spot on the very -margin of the black swamp water grew a single plant of <i>Andropogon -arctatus</i>. It stood ankle deep in the water, a perfect plume of misty -softness that had none of the wine-red radiance of its brothers of the -open border. In the gray twilight it was a slender spirit of wood-grass, -pale and sweet, the dearest creature of the day.</p> - -<p>As I came along the western border of the orange grove with the placid -river reflecting the crimson of the sunset between the great live-oak -boles and the dripping streamers of gray moss,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span> the full moon walked -with me over the eastern border, seeming to stand a moment on tree after -tree, a rounder and more perfect orange than any tree has yet borne, a -symbol, let us believe, of a golden total of crops yet to come.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><br /> -<small>JASMINE AND CHEROKEE ROSES</small></h2> - -<p>Almost a half century ago Harriet Beecher Stowe lived on the banks of -the St. Johns River and wrought for noble ideals in her own brave, -cheery way. In “Palmetto Leaves” she tells of the beautiful country -round about her home, of the three great live-oaks that sheltered it, -and of a caged cardinal grosbeak that used to sit on his perch by her -door and sing enthusiastically, “What cheer! What cheer!” The slaves for -whom she wrote and wrought are now but a memory, and the State of -Florida itself forbids the caging of wild birds, however sweetly they -sing or however cheerily they bear their captivity. The fine old house -that nestled beneath the live-oaks so confidingly that its broad veranda -partly clasped one of them has long since been torn down; and its very -foundations obliterated by the tangle of wild verdure that rises here so -soon from the unvexed earth; but the live-oaks remain, towering with -rounded heads still<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span> higher and stretching noble arms in still wider -benediction.</p> - -<p>From the very tip of one of them this morning a tiny crimson flame -burned in the sun as if a spirit of clear fire had grown up from the -earth her feet had pressed, traversing all the arteries of the noble oak -and finally lingering a moment poised for celestial flight, and from the -flame fell the voice of a cardinal grosbeak shouting in clear mellow -notes, “What cheer! What cheer!” A half-century is but a breath carved -out of time, yet in it both birds and men have found freedom, and still -spirits of clear flame poise upon the heights and bravely call, “What -cheer!” For all I know this cardinal may be a lineal descendant of that -other and have caught a voice of joyous prophecy from the place.</p> - -<p>I have yet to see nobler specimens of the live-oak than these trees that -still hold their ground where the old-time battle was so bravely and -cheerily fought. To the cardinal as he swam into the morning glow and -vanished they must have seemed three mighty domes of dense green. To me -standing below they were the pillars and arches of a cool cathedral in -whose dim upper recesses the mystic mistletoe hangs its strange, -yellowish-green leaves and its pearl-white berries. More is born of -thought than we are yet willing to acknowledge. Who knows what -exaltation<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span> has come down the ages wrapped within the fiber of these -druidical plants, to be subtly distilled on all beneath?</p> - -<p>As the oaks are green above, so are they ghostly gray below with the -long swaying draperies of Spanish moss that drip deep from every limb. -These make prophets of eld of the great trees, and one stands beneath as -in the inner council of the Sanhedrim. Great ideals could have found no -braver setting than this, and the cool north wind that sings across the -river seems to make one feel here the very breath of Puritanical -austerity, of renunciation of self for the sake of others, and perhaps -too of the Puritan’s scorn for any other method than his own. The -sweetly surgent life of blossoming vines that climb in friendly embrace -over all wild things here at Mandarin caresses and wooes with perfume -all the spot and dares the rugged trunks of the great oaks themselves, -yet it may not touch the cathedral mystery and majesty of their shadowy -arches a half-hundred feet up. The high, clear spirit of the place is -still regnant.</p> - -<p>Round about Mandarin sweeps Florida, which has been touched and in tiny -spots remodeled by alien hands ever since the days of De Soto, yet -remains Florida still, wayward, lavish, wild and loving all things with -sunny, sensuous profusion. It has been the scene of one experiment -after<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span> another, and has obliterated the remains. Its tangle of vivid -growth sweeps over many a ruin, from Fernandino to Biscayne Bay, the -very building of which has been forgotten save perhaps in musty archives -of some distant and less sunny clime in which the scheme originated. -Just at this corner of the State, a quarter-century ago, the sweep of -the river on one side and of untrammeled Florida on the other, inclosed -a bit of Old England in a tiny colony of English people who had settled -here, cleared the jungle and the level stretches of tall, long-leaved -pine, and planted orange groves.</p> - -<p>They brought with them sturdy English thrift and unchanging English -ways, and soon the orange groves were everywhere, filling the spring air -with the rich scent of their waxy white blooms and making the autumn -days yellow with golden fruit. Docks sprang in narrow white lines far -over the shallows to the deep waters where ships might load with the -precious cargo for Northern ports, and English lanes and hedgerows -divided and connected the groves. In English gardens bloomed roses and -lilies and violets, and English ivy climbed over wide porches and set a -somber background for all the odorous tropic and semi-tropic wild vines -that loving hands planted with it. I can fancy the jungle leaning in -wild gorgeousness over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span> outermost hedgerows and biding its time. For -fifty years, since 1835, no harmful cold had reached this portion of -Florida, but the jungle knew. Fifty years was but as a day in its -experience.</p> - -<p>It was on a February day in 1886 that it came. That noon the mercury -stood at eighty degrees and all the gorgeous profusion of semi-tropical -spring growth filled the air about with perfume of flowers that spangled -all things. The kind sun steeped the land in content and the negroes -sang at their work, knowing and loving its fervor on their bent backs. -By mid-afternoon clouds had come up out of the southwest and much rain -fell bringing a chill in the air such as may often be felt here in -February, or indeed at any time between November and April. But this -chill instead of passing with the clouds grew with the setting sun and -when his last red light came across the river the rain had turned to -icicles that hung in alien glory from all the trees. There they swayed -and clashed in the keen northwest wind all night, and before morning the -astonished glass had registered the temperature of a Northern winter -night, fifteen above or thereabouts.</p> - -<p>The very jungle itself must have been black in the face with dismay and -a thousand acres of orange groves that were bearing five to fifteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span> -boxes of noble fruit to the tree were frozen to the very roots. It was a -black day for the little English colony, a day from which it has never -recovered. The trees sprang from the roots, were rebudded by the more -courageous only to be cut to the ground again about ten years later. A -second time the more tenacious spirits began their work over again, but -the courage of the colony was gone and though there are still groves of -five hundred to a thousand trees here that for a third time are -beginning to bear well, all faith in the prosperity of orange growing so -far north in the peninsula is gone.</p> - -<p>New prosperity is growing up in the little town and another type of -people are making good here, but the fine houses of the orange growers -stand for the most part tenantless, some for almost a score of years. -The ancient gardens have taken pattern from the jungle and grown with -all its lawless luxuriance, and the once trim hedgerows riot in a -profusion that is as bewildering as it is beautiful.</p> - -<p>Sometimes at night I think the tenants have come back. In the slender -light of the new moon I seem to see white hands reaching out to refasten -blinds that swing drunkenly from one hinge, and desisting in despair as -the rude wind snatches them away and slams them. Sometimes in the full -glare of day, peering through<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span> a broken pane I seem to see an old-time -owner moving about in a room that a second later holds but -long-forgotten furniture and a transparent form that dissolves in -dancing motes of sun-smitten dust.</p> - -<p>I find the ghosts nearest and friendliest, however, in the tangled -growth of the old gardens. One that I love best lies far from the -present town and I like to come to it from the jungle side, lured by the -spicy breath of oleander blossoms. The north wind loses the salt breath -of the river tides as he passes the house and draws deep on these rosy -blooms, taking such store that he spills it through the foot-long -needles of every pine that he passes. Coming from the swamp tangle -beneath the sweet-gums and cypress, pushing through chin-high purple -wood-grass, I let it lead me to-day straight to a huge ridge of wild -cherokee rose plants that had once, no doubt, been an orderly hedge. It -is winter now and sometimes the night brings frost, but the wild -cherokee roses do not seem to mind that. The life vigor in them is such -that it pushes out pointed white buds even now, and these open into five -broad petals of pure white with a golden heart of close-pressed stamens.</p> - -<p>The plant is so rough with its stubborn, hooked thorns set shoulder to -shoulder along its stout interlacing stems that no finer hedge plant -could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span> be imagined. Not the deepest-flanked wild bull could push through -this tangle were it devoid of thorns. Not the toughest-hided one could -attempt those thorns without being torn and repulsed. And out of these -stout stems, from among the defiant thorns spring these dainty white -blooms bearing in their gold hearts a faint, fine perfume that is too -modest to sail forth as does that of the oleanders on the errant wind. -You must put your face close to the bloom and dare the thorns as you -sniff deep before you know its fineness; but it is worth the trouble.</p> - -<p>In and out among the cherokee thorns the wanton jasmine climbs. There is -no place that it does not caress. Along the sand, amid brown leaves of -deciduous trees, it creeps. It slips under porches and puts bud noses up -through the cracked floors of long-disused buildings. It climbs trees -and swings boldly from their topmost boughs, and later it blows yellow -trumpets of invitation to the whole world and sends a sensuous perfume -far and wide that all who pass may breathe their fill. The jasmine is -common to all of the Florida world, yet withal it is so friendly sweet -to each that none may have the heart to disapprove. The cherokee rose is -different. He who would win the perfume of its heart of gold must bleed -a bit, perchance, and wear an individual bloom very close before he gets -it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span></p> - -<p>Coasting the thorn hedge, swinging the ancient gate on rusty hinge, a -roadway leads me beneath sweet-gum and live-oak to the tennis court. Its -level rectangle is still bare and close turfed with flat-bladed grass -and a tiny, stemless plant whose reniform leaves are no bigger than my -little finger nail, and help hold the even level of close green. Only in -one spot has this turf been invaded. There a lawless honeysuckle has -made a patch of its own glossy with green leaves. All else is as it -stood when the last tennis ball bounded freely from its elastic surface. -The sun steeps all this rectangle till it is one deep pool of golden -light where silence and forgetfulness bathe.</p> - -<p>The wilderness noises which come to the edge of this space but emphasize -its silence and forgetfulness. In the trees that rim the court about -ever-changing flocks of birds flit and chatter. Blue jays clang -tintinnabulations, woodpeckers tap and croak tree-toad notes, warblers -and sparrows and titmice and fly-catchers twinkle and chirp, and often -try a half song of almost forgotten melody. Cardinals cry “tut, tut” -much as uneasy robins do, but in softer and more cooing tones. A -Carolina wren grows nervously curious in the cedar beneath which I sit, -and flirts and quivers and scolds as only a wren can, coming nearer and -nearer till I might almost put up<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span> my hand and touch his vibrating brown -body. Then he withdraws a little and whistles till the cardinals lift -their crested heads and listen and a tufted titmouse answers. -“Teakettle, teakettle, teakettle,” he cries, and the very spirit of an -English garden descends into the golden air. Gossamer threads of -spider-web float silverly from tree to tree, argent ghosts of the -old-time net, till I hear in the bird notes the chatter of laughing -voices, and for a moment the place is peopled with gay young folk in -flannels and the game goes merrily on.</p> - -<p>It may have been that the lady of the house served the tea for which the -wren called so lustily in the shade of the garden tangle which now rises -twenty feet on the house side and completely hides it, though it is but -a stone-toss away. Here cedar, spice bush, bayberry and oleander crowd -one another in a struggle for upward supremacy in which the oleanders -win, their trunks, as large as a man’s thigh at the base, dividing into -long, aspiring branches that are pinnacled with pointed leaves and -sprays of fragrant bloom. The jasmine climbs here, too, twining and -straggling, loving and leaving, but the garden cherokees shoot upward in -clean, noble sweeps that carry their brave stems almost to the oleander -tops, whence they bound in long exultation, arching to the ground -again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></p> - -<p>I do not find these in bloom out of season, but the roses that crowd the -crumbling arbor within toss up sprays of pink whose scent intertwines -with that of the oleanders. It is a sad garden now, for all its riot of -growth, for the ground beneath is dank with shade and decay and its once -prim palings fall this way and that in a snarl of rough weeds where the -sesbania opens its two-beaned pods and rattles in every passing breeze. -The old house itself, once so prim and erect, seems to droop wearily, in -round-shouldered senility, to the ground which already claims corners of -the wide verandas. The pinnate-leaved stems of a twining vine, starred -with white blooms, reach up to it lovingly and climb wistfully, only to -drag it down with the tiny weight which it once held up so -unconsciously. Within, the wind which sighs through broken panes carries -light footfalls from room to room and as it sways long unlatched doors -these grumble one to another, mumbling like uneasy sleepers who wait -long for the cockcrow of dawn.</p> - -<p>Down on the waterfront an ancient cement breakwater still guards smooth -sands and the waves lap patiently at this, wearing it away -infinitesimally and talking to one another in liquid undertones. They -alone of all the voices of the place are oblivious of tenants past and -present, of growth or decay, telling in changeless tones the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span> tales the -waters have told since long before man began, a primordial cell in their -unending depths. The waterfront of the old place seems most melancholy -of all, for there nature has failed most to hide the swift decay of -man’s work. Yet there I notice with satisfaction one thing. That is the -defiant erectness and primness of the English ivy that climbs one side -of the house. This neither straggles nor retreats, but goes squarely -upward as it was long ago set to do. It seems to hold the house up -rather than to drag it down, an epitome of that British sturdiness from -which it was transplanted but from which it may not swerve.</p> - -<p>The low swinging sun faded into dun clouds to westward, letting a winter -chill fall upon the place and bringing thoughts of the open fire at home -with the big pitch logs shooting crimson flames up the wide chimney. Yet -through all the chill air the oleanders held their rosy blooms proudly -aloft and the pink roses sent their perfume too, following me along the -sandy, hedge-bordered road on the homeward way. After all, the memory of -the old place which always follows farthest is that of perfume and -golden sunshine and the ghosts of merry voices echoing through the -garden tangle and down the golden depths of the forgotten tennis court. -Dearest of all is the heart of the wild cherokee rose, holding its -faint, elusive perfume for those only who<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span> care enough to dare the stab -of its keen, defensive thorns.</p> - -<p>Dark clouds gloomed the west as I passed the Stowe place. It seemed -inexpressibly gloomy and lonesome under the great arching oaks where the -wild tangle of grape and jasmine, greenbrier, and I know not what other -vines and shrubs cloaks the crumbling foundations and makes a thorny and -impenetrable jungle of the walks the gracious lady’s feet once trod, and -crowds and smothers the plants and shrubs she once tended. The -sheltering oaks seemed to brood a silence of sorrow, failure, and -forgetfulness. Of the chapel, the school, and the work she nobly tried -to do among the poor and ignorant, what traces here remained? And then -the sun shone low under the western clouds and sent red beams in beneath -the brooding live-oak limbs and touched all the swaying moss with fire, -lighting up the cathedral arches with a golden warmth and radiance that -glorified the place and all thoughts connected with it. Over on the -darkening lane a negro boy, born free, whistled on his way home, a -little cadenced fragment of a tune without beginning or end—a whistle -like that of the cardinal that had flown, a crimson flame, into the -morning air. I knew then that whatever crumbles, the spirit of cheer and -devotion and self-sacrifice lives on unquenched. The jungle<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span> may ride -over and obliterate the Stowe place and the lovely English gardens, but -the spirit of devotion that burned in the one and of homemaking -hospitality that glowed in the other can never be quenched.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><br /> -<small>A FROSTY MORNING IN FLORIDA</small></h2> - -<p>It was out of a moonless night that the frost came—a night whose sky -was velvety black and seemed to hold no stars. Instead they had slipped -moorings and on slender cables, I do not know how many thousand million -miles long, were swung down toward the earth, quivering with friendly -yellow fires as if to warm as well as light it. In a Northern December -night the stars are diamond dust, splintered in keen glints from a -matrix of black onyx. Their shine is that of scintillant spears of -electricity. Here they are radiant golden globes swung just above the -treetops. The wind out of the north was hushed and in the stillness the -frost sprites that had soared gleefully upon it far beyond their usual -habitat fell to earth, motionless. They were very young and adventurous -frost sprites, and the sudden dawn found only their feathery white -garments resting on exposed surfaces; the sprites themselves had already -evaporated into invisible mists in terror of the coming fervid sun.</p> - -<p>The first rays of the sun licked up these gray,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span> feathery frost garments -and only in the shadows did you still feel the chill the night had -brought. Only the sweet potato vines seem to have been harmed by this -wee frost. Down on the river’s brink the tangle of convolvulus still -shows great white blooms as large as the palm of the hand. The river -radiates warmth all night and it is a bitter cold that reaches the -blossoms on its brim. In the gardens the roses, red and white and -yellow, did not seem to mind. Dense walls of thick foliage had kept the -cold from them and the jasmine whose yellow blooms seem to glow with -their own warmth. The slim, pointed buds of the jasmine are to the open -flowers now as a million to one, and not a bud even had been harmed. The -sweet potato vines, however, were not so fortunate. Their heart-shaped -leaves turned black and shriveled when the sun struck them.</p> - -<p>Out of the sudden gray of dawn came the sun, a glowing ruby in a sky of -clear gold. To look at this sky was to forget the chill and bathe in a -rich warmth which seemed to distill from it invisible gold dust as the -day advanced. By nine o’clock summer had come back, and all the open -spaces in the wood were wells of this sky-distilled gold, through which -you saw all things in a subtle haze of romance, as if the frost sprites -had brought in their train all the joyous people out of fairyland. To -walk through narrow forest<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span> roads where the sand made all footfalls -noiseless was to glide forward without seeming effort, and in this rich -atmosphere of vaporous gold surprise Oberon and Titania kissing beneath -the mistletoe, to note the quiver of oak leaves as elves frolicked along -their mossy boughs, and to see Puck starting forth to put a girdle round -the earth in forty minutes.</p> - -<p>To be sure, if I watch Oberon and Titania long enough with the glass I -shall perchance find them but a pair of redbirds, beauteous in crimson -and olive green. The elfin train may become a flock of kinglets and -warblers quivering in and out along the limbs in search of breakfast, -and Puck be but a roguish red-headed woodpecker. These December birds -are as elusive and as full of vanishings and roguish tricks as any fairy -train in Christendom.</p> - -<p>Florida roads have the same elusive quality. They part and bow to one -another, meet and touch hands and glide away again as if dancing a -minuet, leading you in a mazy dance hither and thither to the most -delightful surprises. Here a tree has fallen before the wind or under -the ax of a careless woodman, and blocks the way. Little does the road -care for that. It leaves itself with an airy flourish of sandy ruts for -good-bye as if just to avoid the obstruction. Then it may wander a dozen -rods among slim trunks<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span> or along catbrier tangle, quietly seeking stray -blue gentians or golden tufts of St. Peter’s wort, and saunter gently -back to itself, or it may swing a wide corner and leave you at some -man’s front gate, to admire his cherokee roses and negotiate with his -dogs as best you may. To the traveler eager for some definite -destination this quality may have its vexations. To the wood wanderer -seeking but to find the true heart of a golden haze, conscious most of -the mystic quality of all untrammeled nature and unexplored places, it -is but an added delight.</p> - -<p>If on such a day the birds of the bush have their elfin quality most -strongly evident, those always fay-like creatures the short-horned -grasshoppers are not to be forgotten. In the still haze of the yellow -pine forest their shrill voices seem to make the stillness audible, to -give it pitch and quality. Here on a leaf sits one, catching the full -heat of the sun twice, once direct and again as it is reflected from the -leaf’s gloss. His antennæ are short and brown, arched most delicately -from a straight brow that seems to denote dignity of thought. His long, -brown wings fit neatly to his brown abdomen and his legs have the same -shade. He seems cloaked in the soft, delicate color from head to foot, -yet you can but suspect that this is a domino, which he will later cast -aside and appear a glittering sprite.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_008" style="width: 567px;"> -<a href="images/i008_page78.jpg"> -<img src="images/i008_page78.jpg" width="567" height="400" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“A wilderness where deer and bear still linger<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p>Of those fairy creatures which attended Prospero on his island of -shipwreck this well might be one in a fitting disguise. None of the -flitting bird-fays is more beautifully cloaked than he in this exquisite -brown. As I watch him the sun glints in a lenticular eye, and I know by -this that he is full of laughter at my ignorance. Not one of the airy -sprites that plagued Prospero’s guests could be more demure or more full -of roguery than he. From the bushes beside the path as I pass, other -fays of the true locust clan flip into the air on long, shimmering, -silver wings and vanish after flying along in level flight for a hundred -yards. And here in the grass at my feet is Caliban.</p> - -<p>He is a clumsy and stupid lout, this Caliban whom some people call the -lubber grasshopper; the very dolt of his class. He is huge, longer than -a man’s finger and bigger than his thumb, and he has ridiculous short -wings that I am sure he cannot use. They are beautifully mottled and -gauzy with pinkish shadows, these wings, and seem as much out of place -as those of the loveliest tiny fairy of the Christmas pantomime would on -a pig. He moves his greenish-yellow body as slowly as Caliban did his -when going sulkily to his heaviest task and Trinculo and his fellow must -needs be very drunk indeed before they would sleep beneath the same -cloak with him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span> On first seeing the lubber grasshopper I wondered that -anything so fat and clumsy should continue to exist in a country -swarming with insect-eating birds, but even the barnyard fowls will have -none of him.</p> - -<p>At the start on this morning of gold born of white frost my path led me -down the river bank under arching live-oaks. All to northward the pearl -river was of glass that softened and melted into a blue haze where, -miles beyond, the farther bank hung as indistinct and unreal as a dream, -an illusion through which glided a white phantom of a turpentine -steamer, kicking up frothing hills of water behind it, a sea-serpentlike -line of humps whose head was the great stern wheel. There is a quiet and -solemnity in these high-vaulted paths beneath the river oaks that seems -to withdraw on the one hand from the witchery of the pine forest and the -glamour of the river on the other.</p> - -<p>Something of the England of the middle ages seems to have drifted over -seas and down the years to this spot. A monastery should be just beyond, -and, though perhaps he does not know it, Jones, the postmaster, -traversed monastic aisles as he walked his mile this morning to the tiny -post office. Far beyond in the open beneath the big pines I hear blue -jays blowing clarion calls of challenge to the lists and the tramp of -hoofs as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span> knights in armor ride the winding paths to be present at the -tourney. There are days down here when I know the charging hoofs to be -those of razorbacks scuttling through the underbrush and the amble of -palfreys is but that of half wild cattle going down to feed in the river -flats, but not on a morning like this. The gold haze of stillness after -frost has put a spell upon all things.</p> - -<p>The great Florida heron that frequents my favorite swamp and with whom I -am beginning to feel neighborly intimate takes on goblin traits with the -rest of the witchery. Out in the shallows of the pearl river was a new -stump, gray and waterworn, with a long branch sticking straight upward. -Something uncanny about this stump made me watch it long. It was the -deadest gray stump I ever saw, evidently a swollen cypress root with the -bark long worn off. By and by this stump grew a head and the wood -changed to gray-blue feathers in the twinkling of an eye. Thus goblins -arrive from underground and dryads step from trees; but what should a -rotten cypress stump produce? Here was a chimera of a bird with a neck -three feet long, a bob of a head and a body like that of a gray goose -that did not sit on the water but was suspended just above it as a -mirage sits on the desert horizon, separated from everything by a gray -mist of nothing. Then the bob of a head wiggled, turned, I sup<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span>pose, and -a big, sharp beak came into view, and my heron who was simply standing -to the very top of his high, waterproof boots in water began to wade -along.</p> - -<p>Then I laughed, and I suppose that broke the spell, but it was enough to -make anyone laugh, for the Florida heron, wading leg deep in the St. -Johns River, has the same self-conscious dignity, the same absurd -rhythmic hesitancy of motion as a wedding procession going up the aisle. -I have seen a great many grooms wade in and I never saw anything a bit -different.</p> - -<p>The high road and high noon and I met in the heart of a pine wood where -all things had forgotten the frost in a midsummer temperature, and -short-horned grasshoppers made merry all about. In the thin treetops was -no motion, not even the quiver of a bird’s wing. The long wood swooned -in the golden haze that seemed impaled and held motionless on a thousand -million spears of palmetto leaf points standing chin high, a motionless -sea of deep green. The tall palmetto is a beautiful tree with the -columnar trunk of a palm. It aspires and has sturdy dignity. The scrub -palmetto crawls on its belly like a snake, its trunk strangely and -horridly like one, though when you observe it closely enough you see -that it roots all along this boa-constrictor trunk, as if it had changed -its mind after all and decided to be an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span> elephantine -thousand-legged-worm. Then as if ashamed of its fallen and misshapen -appearance it rears its head and spreads a great rosette of -long-stalked, stiff green leaves to hide it all.</p> - -<p>You can find no more distinctive Florida scene than this; the endless -procession of rough-barked columnar trunks, topped with sparse limbs and -tufted with needles a foot and more long, and beneath the lake of deep -green, scrub palmetto with a surface infinitely diversified with the -spatter of the split leaves. The three-foot stems of these leaves are so -woody and the leaves themselves are so stiff that to ford the lake is -difficult and your progress through the palmetto is accompanied by a -wooden clatter that is like a parlor imitation of stage thunder.</p> - -<p>Breathing deep the aroma of the pines, resting in the golden warmth and -quiet of the place I saw little of wild life moving. All nature seems to -take a mid-day siesta, even in winter, here. The place seemed to lend -itself to dreams for which all the mystic witchery of the morning had -prepared me. How deep into these I sank I cannot say, but I was aroused -from them by the approach of a beast.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“The jabberwock with eyes of flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came whiffling through the tulgy wood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And burbled as he came.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>I think it was his burbling that I first noticed, a grumbling undertone -as of something with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span> deep throat and very large teeth that talks to -itself. Even here within twenty miles of Jacksonville, Florida, is yet a -wilderness, criss-crossed with roads and spattered here and there with -clearings, but yet a wilderness where deer and bear still linger. This -sounded like a very large bear; one with a toothache and a morose -disposition. I noticed for the first time a sort of path that crossed -mine, an enlarged rabbit-run under the palmettos. Perhaps he was coming -down that. I could hear the palmettos clatter in crescendo and the -morose voice come rapidly nearer, and still I sat motionless. It is hard -to believe in bears, until you have met a few. But I sat too long. -Suddenly out of the path burst a black bulk, and I sprang to my feet -with a shout of dismay. A big, black creature with a shambling gait, a -long snout and little fierce eyes, was right upon me.</p> - -<p>But my shout of dismay was nothing to the “woof” of terror and -astonishment the jabberwock let out. He almost turned a somersault and, -ignoring his path, went straight through the palmettos which waved about -him, down the distance, with a noise like an anvil chorus played on many -xylophones. It was really the biggest and fiercest razorback I have yet -met. Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone. When they miss -their fellows they gallop, mumbling and</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_009" style="width: 568px;"> -<a href="images/i009_page84.jpg"> -<img src="images/i009_page84.jpg" width="568" height="420" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Razor-backs do not think it good to live alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">grumbling till they find them. I do not blame myself for thinking this -the jabberwock, however. Seen from his own level, head on, the razorback -has a weird and ferocious aspect that can out-countenance most of the -wild animals I have met. Incidentally one can give a very good account -of himself in the prize ring with any opponent whatever, from a -rattlesnake up. What this one thought me I do not know. If he is -familiar with jabberwocks perhaps he, too, thought he suddenly saw one.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><br /> -<small>CHRISTMAS AT ST. AUGUSTINE</small></h2> - -<p>Whoever has since discovered the North Pole, we know that Santa Claus -was the original settler and, to whatever land he may come, we think of -him as cheering his reindeer on over new fallen snow. Nor was frost to -be denied him here in St. Augustine where many people believe perpetual -summer reigns. The red-nosed morning sun looked forth in some -indignation on fields white with it, palm trees crisp, and broad banana -leaves wilted black under its keen touch. The gentle breeze that drifted -in from the north had ice in its touch and I do not know how the roses -that held up pink petals bravely and tossed their soft, tea scent over -the garden fences stood it without wilting. Most of them are planted -near shelter, which may account for it. But the tea roses are -essentially the ladies of their kind. They seem to have the feminine -trait of exposing pink and white beauty to the inclement winds without -growing goose flesh upon it. They stand brave and unconcerned in an -atmosphere where mere<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span> men and vegetables wilt, frostbitten. The day -after Christmas brought a stiff wind from the northwest, a wind that -fainted from its own rage during the night and left us for a few morning -hours a temperature of twenty-six degrees. This is somewhat -disconcerting to muslin-clad migrants.</p> - -<p>Christmas came flying overseas to the quaint old town by way of the long -levels of Anastasia Island, which bars off the real ocean to the -eastward. Here I fancy Santa Claus landing for a moment to re-arrange -his pack before getting down chimney to business, and here he might well -feel at home on South Beach. Nowhere has nature more closely simulated -snowdrifts. The dazzling white sand is as fine grained as any blown snow -of a Canadian winter, and the north wind sent it drifting down leagues -of coast where it piled in hillocks that grow with one shift of wind and -shrink with the next. I had but to shut my eyes and listen to the silky -susurrus of these tiny crystals one upon another to hear the same song -that the New England pastures sing of a bright day in January when the -snow is deep and a zero wind steals from the top of one drift to build -bastions and frost fortifications on another.</p> - -<p>With closed eyes the sibillant song was the fairy tenor to the bass of -the surf which was a memory of the roar of white pines, tossing in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span> the -gale. I had but to open my eyes and see these white, scurrying films of -sandsnow to think myself really once more in Massachusetts. Inland the -pale drifts whelm red cedar and bayberry outposts of the forests that -are as flat-topped and wind-crippled as any shrubs that hold the outer -defenses of zero-bitten, northern hilltops, moated, portcullised, with -barbican and glacis in snow-mounded simulation of fortresses built by -man. Surely nature had hung Christmas decorations on the forefront of -St. Augustine in lavish profusion. I thought at one glance that Santa -Claus himself had arrived on all this make-believe snow landscape and -was resting his reindeer a moment behind the white drifts inland. I -heard stamping hoofs and saw shaggy brown coats that might well be those -of Prancer and Dancer, of Dunder and Blitzen. But a second look showed -long ears instead of caribou antlers, and a band of the curious little -half wild donkeys that roam the island trotted forth.</p> - -<p>Getting back from the roar of the surf, I began to find the Christmas -decorations mingled with the warmer phase of Florida. There the sun -warmed all things in sheltered hollows till it seemed as if the almanac -had repented and Easter was trailing soft garments of spring through the -place to soothe all winter’s ailments. Scrub palmettos lifted their -heads from the sand</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_010" style="width: 399px;"> -<a href="images/i010_page88.jpg"> -<img src="images/i010_page88.jpg" width="399" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Court of “The Alcazar” at St. Augustine</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">to wave palms, and in meadowy places the St. Andrew’s cross spread -yellow petals beneath holly berries. In December you find corners of -this land in Florida that are most perplexing. Out on the hard beach ran -by twos and threes the semi-palmated plover, which are birds of Labrador -and the Arctic coast, and just beyond them the great, gray pelicans -sailed in military ranks between the combers. Here were birds of the -arctic and birds of the tropic seas passing one another between a wind -of winter and a sun of summer. Ashore it was the same. Hermit thrushes, -born under cool hemlocks in the New Hampshire hills while yet the snow -lingered in the northern gullies, peered beneath the palmettos and -touched wing tips with fluttering mocking birds hatched while the June -sun scorched the temperature up along the nineties.</p> - -<p>At nightfall on this cool Christmas Eve the round moon stood in the -eastern sky and shone as if all the Spanish doubloons and pieces of -eight that sank in wrecked treasure ships in this Spanish main had been -fused to one great, silver orb to make it. The keen wind must have blown -most of the tropic mists out of the sky, so plainly visible on its -surface was the man, his dog, and his bush which Shakespeare was wont to -see there. Thus both Spain and England, both fitfully lords of the soil -on which I stood, renewed their hold on it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span> for the moon made a broad -pathway of silver light across the Matanzas River to the walls of the -old coquina fort which for two hundred years was all St. Augustine, and -for the matter of that, all Florida, so far as white man’s dominion -went.</p> - -<p>It was easy to fancy Santa Claus pricking his coursers from the old -coquina quarry on the island, along this silver road, bringing Christmas -cheer to the St. Augustine of to-day. In the shadows along either side -of the coruscating pathway it was easy to see other shades, the dark -forms of boats loaded with stone from the quarries, with motley crews -toiling at the oars, sinking beneath the tide with the painful years, -and others coming to take their places; convicts from Spain and Mexico, -political prisoners, Seminoles and slaves, all prodded by the relentless -steel of Spain to the building of the great fort that stands almost -unscarred to-day, an acme of mediæval fort building. All night it stood -in gray dignity, but the moonlight touched it lovingly and drew silver -from the pathway of toil and tipped the bastions with white fire and -drew gleaming edges all along the ramparts till it seemed as if the -haughty inquisitions of Spain, the bluff greed of ancient England, and -even the pagan myth of the good old saint of gifts were but gray -memories out of which glowed a clearer light, that of that star in the -east which the wise men followed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span> We do not know which star it is, out -of the incomputable number, but every Christmas Eve it swings the blue -arc of the sky and sends its white light down upon the things for which -men have toiled, master and slave alike, and glorifies them.</p> - -<p>Before midnight the northern chill left the place, the wind ceased, and -a sweet-aired calm fell upon all things. The rustics of old England long -ago brought to New England a tale which I love to believe, that at -midnight before Christmas the cattle kneel in adoration in their stalls. -So in this town of strange contrasts, which is so old and so new, it -seemed to me as if at midnight all nature knelt in adoration. Of what -went on within palace or hovel I know little, but without the air -renewed its kindly warmth and from every garden rose upon the air a -gentle incense of flowers. Here poinsettias flaunted red involucres that -were brave with the color of the season and there the dark green of -English ivy fretted the walls with close-set leaves. Chrysanthemums held -up pink and yellow and white blooms to the silver light and sent out the -medicinal smell of their leaves as you brushed by them.</p> - -<p>You could not see the blue of the English violets in their dark green -beds and borders, but the odor of them subtended the scent of the tea -roses and the Marechal Neils climbing high on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span> trellises lost -their yellow tint and were as white as the light that shone on them.</p> - -<p>Tiny ferns, the southern polypodys, which you shall hardly know from -those of the north by their appearance, seem to have little of the -rock-climbing proclivities of their northern prototypes. These love a -tree. Often you will find the level limbs of live-oaks made into ribbon -borders with them and they nestle in the crevices between the -criss-crossed stubs of palmetto leaves along the trunks whence the -leaves themselves have fallen. Here in St. Augustine they seem to love -the roofs of old houses, garlanding them with a most delicate beauty. If -the northern polypody grew here I should expect to find the crevices -between the stones of the old fort green with it and the bluff old -sergeant custodian would have trouble in keeping it from making a fairy -greensward of all slopes and levels on the parapets.</p> - -<p>The southern polypody barely touches the fort. It seems to demand wood -for its rooting surface and it makes the old-time roofs lovely with its -tiny pinnate fronds. I dare say every moonlit night these soft aërial -gardens entangle the light and are silvered by it, but it seemed as if -on this night of nights the radiance was softer and glowed with a -clearer fire. Over in the new part of the town where wealth has built -huge domes and pinnacled minarets and fretted the walls and</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_011" style="width: 566px;"> -<a href="images/i011_page92.jpg"> -<img src="images/i011_page92.jpg" width="566" height="409" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Cathedral Place, St. Augustine</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">arches of great stone buildings with every cunning device of the -builder’s art, the gentle feet of this home-loving fern refuse to climb -and walls and towers and copings and minarets seemed bare and garish in -all their architectural beauty, by contrast.</p> - -<p>It was by way of such scenes as these under the round moon of midnight -that Christmas day first touched St. Augustine. And yet, for all the -wonder beauty of the town in this white radiance it seems to me the -wonder of all lay that night within the bare walls of a northerly, -long-neglected casemate of the old gray fort. The open court of the -place is not unlike that of an Eastern khan. The casemate is a -high-walled, bare room which opens from it, its barred window letting in -a narrow rectangle of the midday sun. What gentle-souled soldier dwelt -within this room in the days of Spanish domination no one can tell me, -nor what lover of shady English lanes, babbling brooks and cool, mossy -retreats succeeded him with the coming of the English flag to wave its -St. George and St. Andrew’s crosses proudly above the ramparts. Only it -seems as if some lover of ferny woodlands must have dwelt there and -thought long of such places, for out of the rough rock wall itself grows -to-day the finest specimen of Venus’ hair fern I have ever seen, its -cool, translucent, beautifully lobed pinnules drip<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span>ping from fronds of -rich beauty that form a soft green cradle on the floor and pillow their -pure sweetness against the wall itself.</p> - -<p>It may be that some conscripted Spanish peasant brought with his aching -heart to the far distant American garrison a fertile spore from some -shady glen that he loved in Andalusia, or perhaps the seed ripened in a -Devonshire lane and came thence with the besieging and conquering -English, or yet again it may have been Florida born and carried thither -on some soft wind of winter or in the blanket of an imprisoned Seminole. -Centuries go by and bring a thousand accidents caught in the trailing -garments of the years. I know only that the plant is there, wondrously -beautiful by day, and that as the first hour of Christmas glided over -the old fort the full light of the moon poured in at the barred window -and built its exquisite texture into a mystic cradle veiled in the -velvety purple darkness of the ancient cell.</p> - -<p>Without was the open court flooded with the full radiance of the great -Southern moon, the same that looked down upon the miracle of birth in -Bethlehem more than nineteen hundred years ago. Within was the still -darkness of the manger-like place, and this cradle of a texture such as -no human hands might make, all strangely lighted and glorified by the -beams from high</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_012" style="width: 567px;"> -<a href="images/i012_page94.jpg"> -<img src="images/i012_page94.jpg" width="567" height="376" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The fort that waits in crumbling beauty the obliterating -hand of the coming centuries<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">heaven. Not millions in money nor trained architects nor the most -skilled artisans of the day, all of which have been lavished upon the -building of the new St. Augustine, have produced one spot so mystically -beautiful as was at that hour the angle of that dark cell in the -casement of the fort that was once the whole of the old town, the fort -that waits in crumbling beauty, neglected but dignified still, the -obliterating hand of the coming centuries.</p> - -<p>Dawn brought out of the white stillness of the night a cloud from the -southeast, and soon the tepid air of the Gulf of Mexico was spilling -rain upon all things and hushing the barbaric greeting of guns and -firecrackers with which the Southern negro delights to hail Christmas -morn. Then as April had driven December from the sky, so came October -with a westerly wind and golden sunshine that merged in a nightfall -whose sky was of amber with a green gold moon rounding up once more in -it. Over in the west hung a yellow, shining star of evening, and as the -lights flashed out one by one in the great hotels and their careful -shrubbery glowed with fairy lamps, it seemed as if this star shed upon -them some of the kindly light that led Balthazar and his companions of -old, a star hanging in the west, for a sign that the day, now grown old -with us, was dawning with new people in new lands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><br /> -<small>IN A FLORIDA FREEZE</small></h2> - -<p>In St. Augustine there is a very genial, old colored man who, in spite -of his weatherworn tatters, is a philanthropist and has an eye for good -dressers. His favorite stampede is the sea wall and the open region -about old fort Marion where he watches with wary eye for the tourist.</p> - -<p>“Heah you are, suh,” he says to such, “heah’s yo’ lucky beans. Take a -han’ful suh an’ be lucky all de res’ ob your bawn days. I gives dem to -yuh. I ain’t charge nuffin for dese I ain’t, kase you is de born image -ob my ol’ massah. Yaas you is, suh. Mons’ous fine lookin’ man he, yass -suh. Dem ladies dey jes’ nachully follow my ol’ massa roun’ kase he such -fine man. Hey? Yaas, tank you kindly suh. You sure is like ol’ massah.”</p> - -<p>It is astonishing how many visions of his old master rise in this gray -old man’s sight as tourists pass. Long or short, fat or lean, it makes -no difference to him, so be they are well dressed and have an air of -prosperity. If it is a group of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span> ladies it is the same. They simply, one -and all, are images of his ol’ missus who was the smartest dressed and -handsomest woman in the State. It may be that the people who have small -stores on St. George street and sell far less valuable things than lucky -beans to good-looking tourists make more money, though I doubt it. Dimes -come rapidly to the old chap, and though with many rents he has none to -pay.</p> - -<p>To-day is January of a new year, and all Florida is once more steeped in -golden sunshine. Soft airs out of Eden, or some place just as good, -breathe over the landscape, and the genial warmth is that of a fine, -June day at home. But so far I have failed to hear the familiar -salutation of the old bean man. I fancy he is not yet thawed out. I hope -no harm has come to him, for I have bought my beans and I like to stand -smiling by and see the other fellows get theirs. Perhaps he is still a -little distrustful, for this is the first comfortable day since -Christmas, and that was something of an oasis in a raw desert of chill. -There had been several frosty mornings before that, somewhat to the -disturbance of the purveyors to tourists, though they had said, -grudgingly, “Oh, well, we do have a light frost some winters.”</p> - -<p>The morning after Christmas saw the thermometer at twenty-six, and the -purveyors of sum<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span>mer, unlimited, in time of winter, were properly -horrified. “Oh, but we assure you that this is quite extraordinary,” -they vociferated. “The weather is always warm in Florida.”</p> - -<p>The morning after that the wind came roaring down from the northwest, -full of needles. The temperature was below freezing and it kept steadily -going lower. The water front, steeped in the midday sun and sheltered -from the keen wind, was the warmest place in town, and there my old -colored man lingered, shivering beneath an old overcoat that, I trow, -belonged to that grand, old master whom we all resemble. Beneath it he -still clung to his lucky beans, but he found small comfort in the dimes -that he took in from overcoated and shivering tourists.</p> - -<p>“Uncle,” I asked, “what makes it so cold?”</p> - -<p>“Huh,” he replied, and his usually beaming, shiny black face was ashy -gray and twisted into a tragic discontent with the chill, “Hit’s dese -Nordern people. We ain’t had nothin’ like dis ontwel dey began to come -down here, so much. Pears like dey brought it in dere cloes.”</p> - -<p>I fancy that is as good an explanation of the freeze as any, though if -the Northern people brought it thus they did it against their will. Out -on the water front the first severe morning I found an old man from -Missouri. When they had told him about the perpetual summer that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span> reigns -in Florida during the winter time he had said, “show me,” and started -for the peninsular State with his big overcoat under his arm. Wrapped to -the eyes in his big coat he sat, this morning that the thermometer -registered at only seventeen above in St. Augustine, on a bench that -faced the morning sun. I thought he must be warm, for his face was -flushed, but it was only the warmth of his indignation.</p> - -<p>“They told me to leave my overcoat at home,” he said, “but I wouldn’t do -that. But I did leave my sweater, and now look at me! Had to go out this -morning and buy a new one. There’s no heat in the house I’m living in -and I had to come out here and sit in the sun like a sage hen, and durn -me if I’m warm now. Next time I take an excursion in winter, young man, -I’ll go North. I know a stove up in Chicago that I’ll bet you is red-hot -this minute, and I wish I was sitting side of it, durned if I don’t.”</p> - -<p>The plaint of this man from Missouri is a song of different words, -perhaps, but it is the same tune which all Northern people sing who -happen to hit a Southern winter during one of the freezing spells which -are so likely to reach the northern third of Florida. The most severe of -these kill the orange trees and are felt to the very southern limits of -the peninsula. Fortunately, there are periods of several years’ duration -in which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span> these do not touch the State. This one is exceptional enough -both in severity and duration, to make the Northern visitor, who comes -to escape that sort of thing, unhappy, severe enough in some cases to -make him unpleasantly ill from colds contracted in draughty houses, -often unheated. At home we install elaborate apparatus for taking care -of a temperature that gets below fifty degrees. Down here they scorn -such a thing. Yet sections far enough advanced in civilization to have -water pipes and plumbing arrangements awoke to find them frozen all over -northern Florida the other morning.</p> - -<p>Now that my own memory, somewhat iced up by these alleged unprecedented -conditions, is thawed out, the week seems quite grotesquely impossible. -It is like asking me to tell how, during a week in midsummer, we had icy -weather and mornings on which the temperature was only seventeen above, -Fahrenheit. But that is just what happened, and the only thing to prove -it as you walk about town now is the black wreckage of all tender -herbage that a little over a week ago flourished so greenly and put -forth sweet-scented flowers. There is visible from my window the roof of -one of the old-time houses on quaint old St. George street. On this -grew, before the freeze, tiny, beautiful clumps of the Southern polypody -fern. These are represented<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span> now by crumpled remnants of gray leaves -from which the life has been frozen—and it takes a good deal to kill a -polypody. The gardens in the town were full of vivid-colored foliage -plants, coleus and the like, handsome poinsettias graced many places and -climbing vines scattered white and scarlet bloom. All these are dead, -killed to the ground, and with them went the taller and more picturesque -shrubs. The palmettos stood it, though their leaves have since curled a -bit, showing that the cold penetrated their tough fiber.</p> - -<p>The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana trees a light -brown like that of elm leaves after they fall in the autumn. The two -nights at seventeen killed the plants to the ground, and not even the -thick coats that I saw hung over green bunches of bananas here and there -sufficed to keep the fruit from freezing, any more than similar -protection helped the flower beds any; the cold was too severe to be -staved off in that way. I think the most striking sight was a big field -of sugar cane out at Hastings. This had been green and luxuriant, though -ripe for the knife, the grinding having begun in many sections. After -the second morning of severe cold this field was all of a lovely soft, -tan brown, the exact color of the shooks in a Northern cornfield where -they are allowed to stand out in the field until this time of year. The -Southern cornstalks still standing in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span> the field do not take that color, -nor are they so massed. The whole looked as striking and out of place as -the weather in which I saw it. In this same town of Hastings is a big -orange grove from which the fruit had been but half picked, the rest -hanging, waiting for the holiday rush to be over, the market cleaned up, -and the prices better. There the orange leaves were curled and crisp -with the frost and a thousand boxes or more of splendid, golden fruit -was still hanging, yellow, beautiful in the chill sun—and solid blocks -of ice, from kumquats which are as big as one’s thumb to grapefruit -almost as big as one’s head.</p> - -<p>There is an alligator friend of mine out by the city gates for whose -safety on that first cold morning I was much concerned. For free -alligators one need have but little worry. Safe under water in the warm -corners of the swamps they were sleepy and happy and would not come out -till the sun called them with sufficient vigor to assure them a warm -day. Nor need I worry much for the city alligator who is put into the -little pond beneath a fountain in the plaza on the first of January, to -be removed no doubt when the tourists go. The steady outflow of warm -artesian water would make him comfortable. The East Coast railroad -people have two that they put into similar tanks in their station -grounds. These, too, seem to be a part of the decoration in honor</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_013" style="width: 424px;"> -<a href="images/i013_page102.jpg"> -<img src="images/i013_page102.jpg" width="424" height="572" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The first frosts turned the upper leaves of the banana -trees a light brown<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">of the tourists. So, not to be outdone in friendly welcome, a -photographer friend of mine has been keeping “George” in a pen in a -shallow, cement tank on his grounds down by the city gate.</p> - -<p>This photographer is an enterprising chap; indeed, the photographers of -the city gates neighborhood are all enterprising. If you get by them -without having your picture taken in many poses it is not their fault. -They know the weakness of vain, human nature almost as well as does the -ancient bean man. One has a jungle, a wild and most realistic wilderness -in which you may be pictured in the very den of alligators, sitting on -pa, fondling ma, and holding the babies on your knee. Who would not send -one of these home to the shivering sufferers in the frozen North? -Another will take your likeness sitting at a tiny table with a most -gorgeously-gowned young lady, sipping bubbles from a tall glass. Few gay -sports can resist sending that up to jealous admirers who have doubted -that they would be received in Southern society. To be sure, the young -lady is of pasteboard, but how are the neighbors to know that? You can -have your picture taken in the ox cart, just coming in through the -ancient city gates, and a real live ox is kept for the purpose—that is, -he was alive until he got pneumonia standing out there, waiting for -customers in the freeze.</p> - -<p>Of all these I think the owner of “George<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span>” does it best. He takes your -picture in a real orange grove, picking oranges. He is the fortunate -possessor of five trees, and some of the five have real oranges growing -on them—a few. But who wants to be picking oranges in a skimpy grove? -The owner of “George” fixed that. He wired golden fruit and leafy twigs -on his trees by the bushel and then, because nature has made it -difficult to photograph oranges in their native color, he whitewashed -the fruit. As a result you may send home from the ancient Spanish city a -picture of yourself, supremely happy, standing beneath trees loaded with -real fruit, picking them as nonchalantly as if it was your constant -occupation. No wonder people come to St. Augustine by thousands each -winter and go away charmed with the place.</p> - -<p>But about “George.” The first morning that the thermometer stood at -seventeen I went out early, wearing a sweater and a big overcoat, -besides one’s usual garments, and still shivering, so penetrating is -this Southern cold. At the gates I found the owner of “George” inside -the pen, chopping vigorously. He was removing an ice blanket from the -top of the shallow tank in which the alligator was securely frozen. This -ice blanket had kept the ’gator secure in a temperature above -thirty-two, whereas he would have been frozen stiff if he had not had -the wit to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span> under water. “George” was lethargic. Even when prodded -severely to see if he was really alive, he moved but slowly and -positively refused to blow off steam with that high-pressure hiss which -is the alligator’s chief warning note. But he came through it unharmed. -Still, he was fortunate in his tank. There were many Northern people in -quaint old St. Augustine that night who had no such reliable heater.</p> - -<p>For all the blackened gardens, the icicled oranges and the banana trees -cut down in their prime, the whitened sugar cane and the ice-blanketed -alligators, I think the really extraordinary sight of that first morning -of severe cold was a fountain in the plaza. This shoots a few tiny -streams into the air and they fall upon greensward beneath it. The -brisk, northwest wind that blew all that cold night blew the thin stream -askew, and the morning sun showed a circle of ice hummocks beneath this -fountain, such hummocks as suggested the bad roads which Arctic -explorers negotiate, and a pyramid of icicles that was built up from the -ground into the urn of the fountain and above that into a sort of -statuette of ice on which the artesian stream sprinkled still. The sun -of Florida, even in the dead of winter, is a hot one, but the pyramid of -icicles stood unmoved during the greater part of that forenoon, indeed -they would have been there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span> all day and the temperature of the night -which followed would have augmented them, only that people began to take -them away for souvenirs.</p> - -<p>Now the point of this story is not that the climate of Florida is not -beautiful during the winter. I know that it is, most of the time. But to -say that Florida is a land of perpetual warmth is not to tell the truth. -In northern Florida the winters often show days when the morning -temperature is below freezing. A temperature which freezes the oranges -is likely to come any winter, and though such cold lasts but a few days -at the most, it is very trying to people dressed for July. Florida women -buy furs for the winter, and wear them, too. Remember that if you are -coming down for even a short stay. This freezing weather comes oftenest -in late December or early January, but it may come as late as early -March. Remember that and wear the overcoat down, also put the sweater in -the trunk, else you may be like my friend from Missouri and vow to take -your next winter vacation beside a Chicago red-hot stove. Florida is -indeed a land of perpetual summer, with certain exceptions that prove -the rule. One of these certainly came, this year, between Christmas and -New Year’s.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_014" style="width: 415px;"> -<a href="images/i014_page106.jpg"> -<img src="images/i014_page106.jpg" width="415" height="560" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>The banana tree in bloom</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /><br /> -<small>DOWN THE INDIAN RIVER</small></h2> - -<p>The bobolinks, bound for South America and perpetual summer, go by a -route which most birds, strange to say, shun. They pass down through -Florida and over the Caribbean Sea, touching at Cuba, Jamaica and -Yucatan. Why this is not the popular route with all birds it is -difficult to say. It offers the most land surface for food and the -shortest sea flights on the way, being in its comfort and elegance a -sort of Pullman train route which the Florida East Coast pleasure -seekers imitate. Yet there seem to be only about ten of the migrating -birds which follow it. The yellow-billed cuckoo is one of these, and -last night I heard him spring his musical rain-call in the guava bushes -while the wind in the palm trees overhead beat a zylophonic -accompaniment. It is now mid-January, and I am a little in doubt whether -this cuckoo has paused on his southward way and winter is yet to come, -or whether he is one of the first of the spring migrants to turn his -flight northward, so gently does one summer fade<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span> into the next as one -gets well down the Florida peninsula on “the bobolink route.” The bank -swallows are of the ten that take up this route, and the air is often -full of their whirling flocks.</p> - -<p>Here at White City we are about two-thirds the way down the Florida -peninsula, about east of the northern end of Lake Okeechobee, which sits -at the northern end of the Everglades. The southeast trade winds, -blowing across the Gulf Stream and over the Bahamas, bringing fresh sea -odors to Florida, here pass a long line of the islands which bar off the -Indian River from the ocean. Then they cross the river, and top another -wave of the sea of billowy sand. The Indian River is the first hollow -between these long north and south extending billows. Over the ridge to -westward you come to a shallow lagoon in which all kinds of marsh life -flourish, from alligators to the lovely yellow blooms of <i>Utricularia -inflata</i> and the heart-shaped leaves of <i>Limnanthemum lacunosum</i>, both -these last Northern friends whom it is cheery to find so far south.</p> - -<p>Here, rather more than two hundred miles south of St. Augustine, north -and south meet and merge most curiously and at this time of year one has -reminders of winter or of summer according to the direction of the wind. -Ten days ago this came out of the north and froze oranges</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_015" style="width: 564px;"> -<a href="images/i015_page108.jpg"> -<img src="images/i015_page108.jpg" width="564" height="397" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The southeast trade-winds here pass a long line of the -islands which bar off the Indian River from the ocean<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">on the trees well down into the middle of the State. Here the cold was -not severe enough to do that, but the cocoanut palms over on the Indian -River bore frosted cocoanuts one morning and all tender vegetables such -as beans, eggplants and tomatoes were killed outright. The result gives -the eye some key to those trees and shrubs which are truly tropical and -have wandered north over their really proper boundary line, and those -which hold northern pith and do not mind some cold weather. The oranges -have not minded the temperature of twenty-six degrees which came to -them. The yellow fruit hangs like golden blobs of sunshine all about. -The green leaves are untouched, even those of the little thumbling -kumquats which are the least of oranges.</p> - -<p>Lemons as well, though they are far tenderer than the oranges, hold up -their pointed ovals in the midst of green leaves. But the guavas were -badly nipped and their foliage everywhere is brown, a color something -like the soft tans in their sycamore-like trunks. Though the guava leaf -is like that of a chestnut, its trunk makes one think it a young -sycamore. By rights its fruit should be a button or a bur, according to -Northern landmarks. As a matter of fact it begins an orange blossom, -most spicily sweet scented, grows a green apple to a lemon-looking -maturity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span> and its seeded pulp is peach-like, and spiced with a faint -off-color flavor which seems but to add to its delectability. In -Northern minds there is well rooted a belief that the orange tree holds -ripe fruit, green fruit and new blooms at the same time. This is hardly -borne out by the facts. The orange is a cropper, just as the apple is, -and just now the trees hold no color save that of the ripe fruit, no -odor but that of its spicy, oily rind. The guavas, however, have -everything in motion from bloom to ripe fruit.</p> - -<p>Cocoanut palms and royal palms are both to be found in south Florida, -though neither is indigenous, both having been planted by accident or -design. The palmetto is on the other hand native to the State. In the -northern third of the State, however, it never seems to me to feel at -home. Palmettos there are set out along fine walks and in yards and -formal gardens where for the most part they stand primly and seem a bit -self-conscious. Rarely there in my woodland walks, either in swamp or -upland, did I find the cabbage palmetto, which is the only tall growing -kind, wild. As you come south you begin to find along in the Palatka -neighborhood sudden accesses of tropical picturesqueness in the swampy -lands. The jungle grows stateliness and becomes peopled with -possibilities of all romance, a condition less common to the lonely, -flat woods and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span> the impenetrable tangle of jasmine and greenbrier and -gray moss of the swamps in the northern counties of the State.</p> - -<p>All this I think due to the presence all about you of the tall -palmettos. There is an interminable regularity about the pines. From -Palatka south, the palmettos stray in groups all about the landscape, -never standing prim and solemn as they do about Jacksonville and St. -Augustine. Here they seem to prance in toward town like plumed Seminole -chieftains of the early days. They lean together in groups and make the -landscape cozy and beautiful, while yet it loses nothing of dignity. -There is something of the feather duster model about the palmetto, but -it suggests only dignity and beauty for all that. Along the banks of -streams they lean plumed heads far over the water and make the muddiest -“branch” a place of enchantment thereby. There is a graciousness about -the simple act that makes you take off your hat and say “thank you” in -all reverence. Of all the trees of the South the palmetto has most -personality and you learn to love it far beyond the others.</p> - -<p>I think it is the presence all about of the picturesque and sociable -palmettos that softens the aspect of the flat lands as you go back from -the Indian River in this latitude, and makes the barrens lovable and -kindly. Yet other things<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span> I am sure contribute. The cold snap, which may -have been the end of the tiny winter that comes even to this far -Southern clime seems to have sent many Northern birds awing once more. -All about flock the robins in countless numbers, their winter plumage -seeming just a little duller than it will be when they hasten North in -April. I have not heard one of them sing, but the air is full of -unmistakable robin cries and they run over grassy spots with the same -self-confident grace. A favorite food with them seems to be the -gallberries which exactly resemble low-bush black huckleberries and grow -in vast profusion all over the ground through the flat woods. These are -most bitter and nauseous to my taste, in fact I know of only one thing -worse and that is the buckthorn berry which is plentiful all the early -winter at home and of which also the wintering robins seem very fond. -Blue birds are plentiful.</p> - -<p>The crow blackbirds that are wintering here seem to be, if anything, -just a little more familiar and fearless than those which nest yearly in -the Boston Public Gardens. They may very well be the same birds, though. -At Fort Pierce I saw them walking gravely about the yards and in the -public streets, picking up food with the pigeons and hardly getting out -of the way of the slow-moving wagons. At White City they fly up<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span> from -the road at my feet and barely wait for me to go by before they are back -again. With them I find redwing blackbirds, the males in full epaulette, -almost as fearless as their larger brethren. There is another flock of -black birds, whose presence I hailed with delight, making the woods -vocal over on the shores of the St. Lucie River. That is a dozen or so -of unmistakable black crows, <i>Corvus americana</i>; not the big-billed, -big-footed Florida representative of the race whom I have seen -occasionally sneaking silently off among the pine tops; not the -cracked-voiced fish crows with their childish hilarity; but good old -Northern crows, making the woods ring with their full-throated haw, haw, -haws. These sounded good to me. I think the cold snap must have sent -them down a little below their usual parallel, for they are the first I -have seen in over two months spent in the Florida woodlands.</p> - -<p>The garden in which the house is embowered is full of myrtle warblers in -full winter plumage. These flit from one rose bush full of bloom to -another, then in among oleander and hibiscus blossoms and the scarlet -clusters of the begonia. Here again is a touch of Northern winter that -has come to the land of flowers. Often of a winter’s day in -Massachusetts have I seen myrtle warblers lingering among the bayberry -bushes, feeding on the waxy berries.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></p> - -<p>There is far more brown in the landscape than is wont to meet the eye -and this tells the tale, not only of a temperature that has been below -freezing, but just what plants are on the northern edge of their limit, -just as the yellow-rump warblers are on the southern edge of theirs. The -brown guava leaves whisper the story; the banana plants, killed to the -stalk, shout it aloud. So do the fields of pineapples. This is a country -of pineapple plantations. They cover that ridge next the Indian River, -clothing it in prickly green lances from the river banks to the savanna -behind it, for miles on miles, running north and south. In places these -are under sheds, acres in extent. In others the wide lagoon of water on -the west protected them and they are but little harmed. In others the -full blight of the cold has worked in them and their green lances have -turned a sickly, straw yellow. On such fields the crop for this year is -ruined, and many acres of newly set young plants are killed to the root. -Thus does winter set his mark occasionally even on this semi-tropic -land.</p> - -<p>But if it has been winter, I am quite convinced that it is now spring. I -have surprised a suspicious tone of young green along the river edge, -such a color as in Massachusetts I would know meant mid-April. It is the -tender green of young willow leaves just opening out of gray</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_016" style="width: 563px;"> -<a href="images/i016_page114.jpg"> -<img src="images/i016_page114.jpg" width="563" height="385" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“This is a country of pineapple plantations<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">buds, all yellowed with the pollen from drooping catkins. The swamp -willows that had lost their leaves are beginning to put them out again. -So on oak trees I find the straggly catkins hanging in tassels where the -limbs are gray with new leaf buds that are pushing off last year’s -leaves. And still the blue jays are searching among these catkins for -acorns of last year, not altogether unsuccessfully, so close does spring -tread on the heels of the old year and its fruits. All about in the -fields I hear a springlike twittering among the myriad birds, a -preliminary tuning of instruments. I hear the friendly “cochituate” of a -goldfinch as he scallops his way along the sky. The Florida blue jays, -even noisier than our Northern ones and vastly more familiar, clang and -scream all about and red birds whistle musically. Through all this I -hear another note, or rather a succession of notes, that make me smile. -I have been stalking this puzzling, strange song, if one can call it -that, for a day or two, as opportunity offered, and only this morning -made sure. After all, it was only the crow blackbird trying to sing a -spring song. As a song it is hardly a success. It begins with a shrill, -hardly musical, call note, long repeated. Then the bird essays something -like the trill of a canary, though not very much like it in result. Then -he gives a little deprecatory chirp as if he were as much<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span> surprised as -I am at the result of all this, almost tumbles off his perch, recovers, -and flies over to another tree to begin the performance all over again. -The whole is as grotesquely awkward and humorously meeching as the -motions of the crow blackbird usually are.</p> - -<p>Not only in bird voices, in willow and oak catkins, are these signs of -spring. The ground underfoot is beginning to teem with them. Under pines -it is starred with tiny, white blossoms while the ditch bottoms and the -moister places everywhere are purple and white. Most springlike of all -is the violet among the wild grasses in the flat woods. From its tiny, -white flowers with their purplish veining I took it at first glance to -be <i>Viola blanda</i>, our sweet, white violet of early May in all meadowy -places. A closer examination, however, showed it to have beardless -petals and instead of the round, heart-shaped leaves of our Northern -variety lanceolate ones, tapering into long petioles. Therefore it is -<i>Viola lanceolata</i>. But except for these minor differences it is the -same flower, as delicately beautiful and enticing as when it grows -fifteen hundred miles nearer the pole. Yet if one thinks a New England -spring is at hand he has but to look up. On bare limbs in all swampy -places, hang the solemn beards of Tillandsia, the Spanish moss, while on -others grow grotesque pine<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span>apple-like plants that are indeed of the -pineapple family though they bear no pineapples. Instead they shoot -upward a scarlet, gladiolus-like spike from which appear long tubes of -blue petals, holding out yellow anthers. The whole looks as if some -vivid, tropic bird had lighted on this pineapple-top and was poising -there a moment before farther flight. Underneath springs the rank growth -of Florida’s largest fern, the <i>Achrosticum aureum</i>. Its fronds rise as -high as my head and spread like a trunkless palm in a circle sometimes -ten feet in diameter.</p> - -<p>Out of all this confusion of Northern and Southern spring signs, rises -always one clear note, that of the southeast trade wind in the palm -trees. Rarely is it absent from the ear. It brings fresh, sea-born -smells of perpetual spring to the nostrils, sometimes weary of the too -rich perfume of spicy pines and odorous gardens, and its rustle sings -you to sleep all night long with the song of the Southern sea. So as the -palmetto grows dearest to the eye of all these Southern trees, it -becomes also dearest to the ear. It is the harp on which this loneliest, -yet most alluring of all Southern tunes is soothingly played.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><br /> -<small>SPRING IN THE SAVANNAS</small></h2> - -<p>Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east of Lake -Okeechobee, and autumn died of it. Autumn was lucky thus to be raptured -out of existence, for he was but a weakling, lingering along inertly, -showing little of that brown tan in which, farther north, he glories. In -all the woodland hardly a fallen leaf rustled under his footstep and on -the open savanna only the dull olive wild grasses paid homage to him. On -the day he died I thought I saw tribute to him in the red of a swamp -maple’s passing leaves, but I was wrong. It was the blush of spring -blossoms instead, so little does the world of the twenty-seventh -parallel care for autumn, so potent is the aura of spring as the lusty -hussy sweeps in on the wings of the southeast trades. I suspect spring -of being born on the tropic edge of the Sargasso Sea whence these winds -blow, mothered by the cool brine of its vast depths, fathered by the -most vivid sun and bringing in her amorous heart the alchemic vigor of -both, whereby she</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_017" style="width: 569px;"> -<a href="images/i017_page118.jpg"> -<img src="images/i017_page118.jpg" width="569" height="401" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Spring and autumn kissed yesterday in the savannas east -of Lake Okeechobee<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">transmutes all things into golden bloom. The long surges of this sea -following her, leap in adoration and desire. A dozen miles inland from -the Atlantic I yet hear the roar of their plunge on the beach, a roar -softened and made into a sleepy lullaby, an undertone droning in -soothing cadences when the breeze is hushed for a moment. They may not -follow her farther, these devoted waves, but they send the cooling scent -of the brine far beyond the sound of their voices, sometimes to the very -heart of the peninsula.</p> - -<p>Yet it is not altogether the scent of the brine which gives the amorous -softness to the winds that brought spring, yesterday. The garments of -the goddess, trailing over the Bahamas, have caught the scent of all -wild flowers in their folds and there wooed and welded them into a fond -sweetness which no man may describe yet by which all must know when -spring comes, whether in the Everglades or the New England pastures. On -nights when the wind blew gently I have caught whiffs of these odors of -spring before, breaths to make one fill the lungs to their very depths -in long-drawn inspirations, to reach one’s arms towards the stars in -sudden joy of yearning, but now the air of day as well as night is full -of it.</p> - -<p>The savannas are the pine barrens of the northern part of the State, -made, somehow, more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span> open-hearted, lovable and kindly instead of lonely -and aloof. The pines are here still, but they no longer grow in -close-set ranks that shut off the view in the near distance with a -wooden wall of brown trunks. Instead they grow far apart and the glance -trots merrily along for miles among their trunks before it finds its way -barred. There are enough of the long-leaved variety to give stateliness -to the view, but in the main the pine of the savannas is a -shorter-leaved, less straight and dignified tree, smaller, though a -good-sized tree, and one that is enough like our Northern pitch pine to -be a friend at sight. These and the palmettos that sway in picturesque -groups along on their way, no one knows whither, are all the trees one -finds for miles on miles.</p> - -<p>It is rather odd, this matter of the palmettos being on their way. It is -not so with the pines. They stand. But the palmettos stroll on. I do not -know what gives them this semblance of groups in motion, but they surely -have it. I fancy it is their erect trunks which are never quite erect. -They seem to lean forward just poised for a step. Under foot is the -scrub palmetto, brown grasses that fatten the range cattle, and the -gallberry bushes now black with fruit. At first glance this seems all -and you have to live with the savannas for a little before they give up -more. At rare intervals you may find a tiny streamlet that in -flood-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span>time has dug its course down through the sand to a hard bottom -where its clear water slips gently along. This will be bordered by -myrtles a dozen feet tall, making a wall of foliage that you may see a -mile ahead of you barring your way beneath the pines. But this is only -an incident and does not affect the general tenor of the landscape.</p> - -<p>But, though streams are rare, there is water in abundance in the -saucer-like pools which make the savanna so lovable. Just when your way -is becoming weary and the place the abode of monotony and loneliness, -one of them bars your path and fills you with sudden admiration of its -wild beauty. You may count them, little and big, by the score sometimes -within a mile, you may find a mile without one, or you may find a single -pool which takes up the mile. However long your walk in the level plain, -it can never be lonely because of the comradeship of these. Here is one -that is rimmed with prim, green rushes, standing close-set and bristly -pointed as if guarding the clear, unvexed surface. Here is another so -shallow that the wild grasses grow up through the water all about, -spiring in tender points that are olive brown with the touch of autumn. -Yesterday in such pools olive brown was the only color above the water -which reflected the blue of the sky. To-day, under the touch of this -amorous spring that swooped down upon them, these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span> somber spires stand -guard over prickings of tender green that sprang up in a night to meet -the call of the passing goddess.</p> - -<p>Here is another pool, deeper, this one, whose borders are halberded with -the leaves of the pickerel weed, already flying blue banners here and -there, starred with the white of the water plantain. In spots in these -clear, deeper pools the tape grass stripes the surface and the crow -blackbirds ride dry-footed on the round, floating leaves of the yellow -pond lily. Many of the smaller pools are fairer yet, their clear, black -water all rich with gold ornaments, curiously and beautifully carved and -shining yellow in the sunlight which seems tangled in embossings and -fret work. Not till I wade knee deep into the middle may I find out -whence comes this curious and delightful ornamentation. After all, it is -but the tangled blooms of <i>Utricularia vulgaris</i>, riding free and -floating on the bladder-bearing whorl of leaves till gentle winds push -them close and the spurred, bilabiate flowers tangle golden heads in -nugget-like masses. Nowhere in the world, I fancy, can you find -utricularias so large flowered and massed in such profusion as in the -little, quiet pools that star the savannas from the Indian River -westward to the northernmost beginnings of the Everglades.</p> - -<p>The pools do not have a monopoly of the beau<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span>tiful yellow blooms of the -utricularia. Along one tiny path or another which I follow along level -miles, made by the range cattle and kept open as highways for all the -wild creatures of the place, tiny motes of richest sunshine dance aside -for my passing feet. Scarce larger than a pinhead are these blooms of -<i>Utricularia subulata</i>, most elflike blooms, that seem to have no -connection with earth. If you try to pluck them they shake all over with -mirth which they cannot contain at your clumsiness. Leaves they have -none, and the stem which bears them up is of such a neutral tint and of -such gossamer fineness that it is almost impossible to see it. And that -is all there is to it; a stem like a spider’s thread, springing from -moist sand or mud in the path, bearing on its invisible support this -tiny scale of sunshine, making the most elusive and fairylike plant that -one might find on a continent. In Northern swamps and on the borders of -still lakes the utricularias have given me pleasure, but never have they -supplied such an amazement of delight as they spread before my feet in -these wild savannas of southern Florida.</p> - -<p>Along with the path-haunting utricularias is another tiny plant whose -Northern prototype is familiar. This is the sundew. I take the one that -carpets portions of these moist, wild ways with rich red to be the -<i>Drosera brevifolia</i> from<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span> its shorter, wedge-shaped leaves. The nap of -fine glands that clothes these holds diamond glints of infinitesimal -dewdrops that flash finely in the sun and catch my attention and hold -it, even as they do the tiny insects for whom the snare is spread. In -favored locations these round mats of the sundew half carpet the -gray-black soil along the path edges with a diamond-frosted, cerise -velvet and should pleasantly pad the footfall of all small, wild -creatures that pass that way.</p> - -<p>The sundew grows only on the moist places. In the dryer spots, now that -spring has come wooing with warmth and with showers, troops of -sunbonneted beauties show up, these seeming to have sprung magically -forth in a night. It may be that there were golden yellow sunbonnets -nodding coquettishly in the wind all along the savannas ten days ago. I -can only say that I tramped them back and forth and did not see any. It -may be that the smaller, more modest blue sunbonnets were there too. I -can only say that I did not see them. There is a freemasonry of the wild -that keeps secrets from you till you are found worthy. Hence to know a -wood or a plain you must visit it often. Often in coming back along a -path which I have scanned in going I find flowers, nodding by the very -path brim, that I did not see in going out. It is not to be believed -that these opened in the interval; rather we must</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_018" style="width: 566px;"> -<a href="images/i018_page124.jpg"> -<img src="images/i018_page124.jpg" width="566" height="411" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“All must know when spring comes, whether in the -Everglades or the New England pastures<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">think that like children they lose their fear of strangers after a -little.</p> - -<p>So with these butterwort girls that wear the yellow and blue sunbonnets. -I fancy there were a few of them along the path on my first day, but -they did not care to be seen. Now they have taken heart at the boldness -with which spring scatters love tokens all about and are trooping forth -on the level sands. <i>Pinguicula pumila</i> I actually found first, though -she is the more modest. Her blue bonnet is smaller and she herself is -shorter of stature, nestling down among the wild grasses in a snugly -confiding way which makes them love her. They cling close and it is -difficult to pluck <i>Pinguicula pumila</i> without getting a half handful of -defending grass stems with her.</p> - -<p><i>Pinguicula lutea</i> is a bolder creature. In her yellow sunbonnet she is -a flaunting blonde and the gold of her flaring ribbons is visible far -under pine and palm. When the full warmth of the sun is on the savannas -she flips back the rim of this big, yellow bonnet till it flares in -salver form and shows her buxom face and the gold of her hair to all who -will look. I do not think it possible that <i>Pinguicula lutea</i> let me go -down the path on the very first day without noticing her and I am -therefore confident that her season begins here in mid-January. She and -her shyer<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span> sister have given a sudden joy to the wide spaces that was -not there before and I welcome them as near relatives of the -utricularias.</p> - -<p>Over them all on the day that spring came, over the sandy levels, the -round-eyed, flower-bedecked pools, rang the tinkling, joyous songs of I -do not know how many million meadow larks. A day or two before I had -seen but a scattering one or two and not one had sung for me. On that -day they appeared everywhere, not in flocks like the robins and -blackbirds, but singly and by twos and threes well distributed over all -the landscape. They sing from lowly stations, a short, dead stub in the -lonely reaches, a fence post near the farm, or the low ridgepole of the -farmer’s shack. Nothing could be more springlike than their music and -they are the first Northern birds that I have found singing freely so -far South. The robins and the redwings are songless, the bluebird carols -shyly as he flies but so gently that he is rarely heard. The crow -blackbird works hard but it is hardly a song that he produces, and so -the mellow tinkle of these myriads of meadow larks is a delight to the -Northern ear.</p> - -<p>It is a joy also to see one of them after his song flutter forth from -his perch, spread his wings in mid-flight and sail sweetly down, -lighting in among the wild grasses as if he loved them. The meadow -lark’s breast wears a rich yellow that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span> pretty nearly matches that of -the sunbonnet of Miss Pinguicula Lutea. I am wondering if there is -anything in it. That might account for her persistent strolling along -the sunny reaches of the interminable savannas. It might account for his -melodious outbursts from low observation points and the quivering set of -his wings as he soars down into the grass at her side. This spring that -came sailing up over the Bahamas brought many a yearning along with the -tropic odors in her train.</p> - -<p>As out of the lark-filled air the spring has brought melodies, so out of -the yellow-flecked pools she has brought two sounds which are in vocal -adoration of her. One is a queer little rap of a sound that is like the -hitting of dry sticks together in a rub-a-dub-dub. If fairy frogs march -the borders of the pools to drumbeat, this is the drumbeat.</p> - -<p>The other is a frog sound, too, the love call of the tree frog. The -hyla’s voice with us, North, is the first sure call of spring. When we -hear that we know that the ice is gone from the marshes and the tiny -fellows have come out of their winter’s sleep and are down in the open -water, piping, Panlike, their love songs among the reeds. Neither -amorous scent of stephanotis bloom borne from islands of the Southern -seas on the soft air, nor amorous tinkle of lark love<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span> songs could so -mark to my Northern trained ear the presence of spring. There is no -chorus as yet; just an occasional shrill peeping, such as I have heard -in April out of the moist ruck of last year’s grasses in a cold meadow, -while yet there is a touch of frost in the air and the low sun scarcely -gives color in his slanting beams. Here it comes in warmth as of June -out of pools where bewildered flowers bloom the year round, not knowing -of a certainty where one summer ends and another begins. Yet the sound -and its meaning are unmistakable, the final evidence whereby I know that -spring came to the savannas yesterday.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><br /> -<small>SEVEN THOUSAND PELICANS</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Plumpskin, buffskin, pelican, gee!<br /></span> -<span class="i1">We think no bird so happy as we.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Plumpskin, buffskin, pelican jill!<br /></span> -<span class="i1">We thought so then and we think so still.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>So runs an ancient and foolish ditty. There is something about it which -makes one think of pelicans as doing a little dance and thus happily -singing, wing in wing, so to speak. Observing the pelicans that meet the -steamers at Jacksonville and some others later in captivity, I had -thought them of a grave and reverend dignity which belied the ditty and -its suggestions. Now I know better. It is a bachelor pelican that first -gave me an inkling of “how happy the life of a bird must be.” He has no -home, this bachelor pelican, just a habitat which is a tiny cove in the -long island which bars the Indian River from the sea five or six miles -below Fort Pierce. So deep does this cove dent the island that the -roaring surf of the east side is but a stone throw from its tip, yet the -wind which blows almost always from the sea leaves its surface -unruffled. Here my bachelor pelican lives to sail and soar and cut<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span> -capers all day long in a snug harbor which is untenanted save by a -winter fisherman’s houseboat.</p> - -<p>No more than he minded this houseboat did he seem to mind me as I -watched his antics. At times he seemed severe and dignified enough. That -was when he sat erect and motionless on the surface, his noble, white -head and reverend beard of a bill having all the repose of a prophet. -But that did not last long with him. With a shrug the dignity vanished -and his whole attitude was positively humorous. The change would come -suddenly, a sort of wink of the whole body. Nor was this for me. He just -seemed to wink to himself and say, “Humph, but wasn’t that a solemn -pose!” It is singular how dignity can become grotesque humor with a -shrug, with this bachelor pelican. After his shrug began a little -whirling motion as he sat on the water, spinning softly to the right and -left, ogling the surface as if for fish. Then suddenly he sprang into -the air. The pelican has hardly any tail. His huge beak ludicrously -overweights him forward. By all laws of physics he ought to tumble head -first into the waves every time he springs from them. Instead, his -seven-foot spread of wings catches the air with vigorous grace and he is -absolute master of the art of flight. So my bachelor friend held himself -on level wings, then of a sudden pitched downward and drove that huge, -misshapen beak<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span> into the water, about half of the bird going with it. I -know by the way he smacked his mandibles that he took in a good-sized -fish, probably a mullet, while beneath the surface.</p> - -<p>The general color of this bird was a slaty brown, except for his head -and whole neck, which was white, not showing even a tinge of any other -color. Crossing the narrow strip of island and looking forth upon the -sea I saw other pelicans flying in slant-lined flocks just within the -breakers. These pelicans wasted no time in humorous antics. They flew in -business-like fashion, skimming so low in the hollows of the waves that -they sometimes disappeared. They took fish on the dive much as my -bachelor friend had; but, whereas he seemed to do it with a schottische -movement, there was no antic dance in their motions. They were in dead -earnest. They were marked differently from my young friend, too, for -these sea hunters were in full breeding plumage, their hind heads and -necks being a rich, seal brown. They were hunting menhaden more than a -score of miles from the young, being brooded in the grass nests in the -big rookery on Pelican Island, and they had no time for humorous antics.</p> - -<p>There is no accounting for what birds do. It is the custom, almost -universal, in birddom to mate and breed in the spring of the year. Even -in the tropics this holds good. The pelicans of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span> the Gulf of Mexico -breed in April, yet those of the East Coast begin their mating and flock -to the single rookery, which is the nesting place of all East Coast -pelicans, in November. Just below the twenty-eighth parallel of latitude -there is in a sheltered bay in the Indian River a low, sandy island -about three acres in extent. Here all East Coast pelicans breed, and -have done so since man has known the Indian River. The pioneer birds who -first chose this island chose wisely. The place is as far north as they -dare breed for fear of cold, which would kill the young birds. These are -born naked and for the first few weeks of their existence die of cold -even under ordinary temperature, if left unbrooded over fifteen minutes. -Hence one or the other of the parent birds keeps the nest during that -time. On the other hand, they wish to be as far north as they can for -two reasons. One is that excessive heat kills the unprotected young as -well as cold. Another is that the menhaden fishing is better up the -coast than down. Any fish is good enough for the palate of the adult -pelican, but for some reason the birds prefer to feed their young almost -entirely on menhaden.</p> - -<p>In October the breeding impulse comes to these East Coast birds and the -stubby, brown mane grows along the backs of their long necks. Then they -collect together in flocks of hundreds, up and down the coast, and begin -to draw in toward the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span> old home spot. Not, however, until all the clan -has gathered do they bear down upon the island and take possession, -coming in a multitude in the night as our Northern migrants come to -their breeding places. Thus the night herons which winter in this region -come to their rookeries in the Massachusetts cedar swamps. On a day -early last November there were no pelicans on Pelican Island. On another -day the warden whose ceaseless vigilance protects these birds during the -nesting season from the depredations of mankind estimated that there -were seven thousand there. But not all these pelicans were in breeding -plumage or were there to breed. At the close of old home week the -white-necked birds seem in the main to have departed, probably to take -up the lightsome joys of bachelor existence like my friend in the cove. -The others began nest building and placed some fifteen hundred nests on -the three acre island. Then indeed began a carnival of Pelican growing -which lasts each year until late June has brought the longest days, -before the last young bird is full grown and the island is once more -deserted. In fact, last year, though the breeding was finished by the -usual time, the birds did not wholly leave the island and its vicinity -the year through, but hung about in considerable numbers.</p> - -<p>Pelican Island lies so low that an extra high tide works havoc among the -nests, which are of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span> necessity placed on the ground. There is one -mangrove tree on all the island now, though it once was covered. The -weight of nests and roosting birds seem to have combined, perhaps with -other causes, to kill them out. The former habit of the pelicans was to -build entirely in trees. Now, rather than leave their beloved island, -they have become ground builders. Seen in the distance as the boat draws -rapidly nearer, this island seems to be covered with a vast collection -of gray driftwood, so close together are the brooding birds. I have seen -driftwood-covered low islets on the Alaskan coast of Bering Sea which -looked very like it. Again as you come nearer the semblance changes, -fifteen hundred white pelican polls lifted high on long necks to see -what is coming give it the appearance of a field of daisies.</p> - -<p>The time was when these pelicans that brood three thousand young birds -in all stages from fresh-laid eggs to youngsters that can fly and are as -big as their parents, could gauge exactly the distance at which a -shotgun will kill. In those days, before the Department of Agriculture -made this tiny islet a Government reservation, and through the efforts -of the Audubon Society Warden Kroegel had been made its guardian, twelve -thousand feet spread of pelican wings were in the air at shooting -distance every time a boat approached. But pelicans are canny birds and -they</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_019" style="width: 594px;"> -<a href="images/i019_page134.jpg"> -<img src="images/i019_page134.jpg" width="594" height="370" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The others began nest building and placed some fifteen -hundred nests on the three-acre island<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">have now learned to sit tight. They simply lift their heads high, draw -their feet up under them so as to be ready for a spring if need be, and -look at you with all the vast dignity of which the bird is capable. The -lightsome frivolity of my white-necked pelican down in the little cove -is not for this place. Nor is there any look of real alarm in their wise -and solemn old faces as I step out of the boat and walk slowly up among -them.</p> - -<p>A sudden motion will startle them into flight, but moving slowly enough -one may approach almost within poking distance of the birds before they -lift into the air and sail away. Truly it is an astonishing sight. On -the higher parts of the little island, one great grass nest almost -touches the next and there is hardly room for the brooding birds to take -flight at the same time without rapping one another with their great -wings. After a moment the general current of the life of the island goes -on undisturbed by the presence of an undemonstrative visitor. Birds come -and go, lifting their great, overbalanced bodies into the air with -incredible ease and flapping away, sailing in from the distance and -dropping with lifted wings to the desired spot.</p> - -<p>The two birds alternate in seeking food and sitting upon the nest and -seem to share equally in all care of the young. The ceremony of nest -relief is sometimes a most curious thing. The ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span>proaching bird lights -near the nest, points his bill high in air and draws nearer, wagging his -head most comically from side to side. Thereupon the sitting bird sticks -a long bill down into the nest, twitches half-raised wings nervously and -croaks a hoarse word or two which might well be a complaint of weariness -and cramps from long waiting. Then the two pause for a second and the -sitting bird steps down off the nest in most unconcerned fashion, -waddles a step or two, lifts into the air and is gone, probably to get a -much needed menhaden dinner. The other bird then climbs up on the nest -and takes up the labor of incubation or brooding. It is only after the -chicks have grown the white down which precedes the real feathers that -they are left alone by the parents. There are many reasons for this. If -the weather is cool they die of exposure to the cold; if it is hot the -sun is equally fatal. But there is more to fear than this. Young -pelicans after a certain stage of growth step down out of the nest and -prowl about a bit between meals. Full-grown young have a way of gobbling -up the newborn if unprotected by the presence of the mother.</p> - -<p>In fact, the infant mortality on Pelican Island, even under its present -halcyon condition of Government protection, is high. The pelican must be -an awkward sitter. Addled eggs are to be found on the ground among the -nests in considerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span> numbers. When the island was clothed with the low -mangrove trees nesting conditions were much safer. Then the young birds -did not leave the nest until about to fly, and the newly hatched were -therefore better protected from being devoured by the neighbors’ -children. Moreover, the habit of wandering from the nest on the ground -makes it difficult for parents to surely find their own offspring when -they come back with food. Any mother with a neck full of fish is good -enough for the youngsters, hence when a cargo arrives they all rush for -it indiscriminately and the real offspring is lucky if he gets the -luncheon. But the worst thing about the ground nesting is an occasional -high tide which comes, driven by northeast winds, and floods the low -portion of the island, sweeping large numbers of eggs and helpless young -to disaster.</p> - -<p>The pelican mother lays three eggs, pure white, about three inches by -two in diameter, being thus slightly smaller than those of the Canadian -goose. If for any reason the eggs of the young birds are destroyed -another litter is laid. Perhaps the frequent destruction of eggs or -nestlings in the crowded communal life of the island accounts for the -prolongation of the breeding season here. The eggs hatch in about four -weeks, and it takes about ten weeks more for the young to acquire full -flight plumage. Three and a half months<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span> should normally be all the time -one pelican family would stay on the island. After that the young birds -would roam freely to fish with their elders. But as a matter of fact, -from the laying of the first egg on the island to the departure of the -last young bird is nearer seven months than three and a half. Of the -seven thousand pelicans which come to the island at the beginning of the -season, but three thousand actually have young there at any one time. -What becomes of the other four thousand? Do they not breed that year? -These are interesting questions for the ornithologists to answer by -further careful observation. It seems to me that it is likely that those -birds which do not find a breeding place on the island in November -return after the first brood of the more fortunate is off and occupy -their places. The day that I was there, in the latter half of January, I -saw a pelican carrying grass in his beak, evidently for nest building.</p> - -<p>With the exception of that croak of recognition with which the sitting -bird greets its relieving mate, the adult pelican is as silent as the -severe dignity of the bird in repose would seem to warrant. With the -young it is another matter. Pelican Island is anything but a silent -place during the breeding season. Croaks, cries and squawks come from -the young birds, at times rising to a considerable din. The young bird -just pushing</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_020" style="width: 563px;"> -<a href="images/i020_page138.jpg"> -<img src="images/i020_page138.jpg" width="563" height="379" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A little group of half-grown young pelicans on the edge -of Pelican Island</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">his beak through the shell does it with a grunt. The black, blind -nestlings croak and the larger the bird the shriller his voice and the -louder. To approach a nest when the old bird is off is to be immediately -greeted by harsh cries on the part of the young birds there. Pointing my -finger closely at one of these youngsters, a downy chick of some weeks’ -growth, with a growing bill and a pouch already showing beneath it, I -was somewhat surprised to be greeted with a peace offering of a six-inch -menhaden which the bird produced from some unfathomed depth of his -anatomy, held for a lingering moment lothly in his beak and then laid at -my feet. Probably he thought me an overgrown youngster of ravening -tendencies and he preferred to give his fish rather than himself.</p> - -<p>At nightfall soft winds from the sea blow the crimson sunset up over the -little island and hang it in gorgeous tapestry all along a pearl-blue, -western sky. Through this gorgeous glow the last pelicans sail silently -home. The hoarse cries of the feeding young sound through the rapidly -growing dusk, the old birds bathe in the river still crimson with -reflections of the passing sunset glory, and then silence broods over -the brooding thousands. The young are warm and snug between the mother -bird and the nest, and the old birds sleep with head tucked under wing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><br /> -<small>JUST FISHING</small></h2> - -<p>I have now decided that I will not live for the remainder of my days in -the country between Okeechobee and the sea. I had thought it a place -peculiarly fitted for the abode of mankind, but I have learned better. -It is lacking in one product very necessary to the welfare of humanity; -that is, a proper growth for fishing poles. Think of it! Hundreds of -square miles of wilderness and not a fishing pole fit to be cut in the -whole of it; and this with rivers that teem with fish that easily put -the Maine lakes to the blush. The tree growth of the barrens and the -savannas is pitch pine and palmetto. By the time the pitch pine is nine -feet tall it has a trunk three inches in diameter, more or less. Even by -cutting this and shaving it down you could not make a fishing pole.</p> - -<p>The palmetto is even more absurd. When a palmetto tree really starts -from the ground its trunk is of its greatest diameter, say almost a -foot. As the tree grows taller this remains about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span> the same except that -the “boots,” which are the bases of the clasping leaf stems, remain for -a time, bracketing the tree all about with a sort of network trellis, -which is ideal for all climbing things. After years these fall off and -leave a clean, barkless trunk eight or ten inches in diameter and -perhaps fifty feet tall. Where the growth is close some run much higher -than this, and I have seen smooth, round, gray boles seventy or eighty -feet from roots to feather-duster tops. As the tree grows older this -trunk instead of enlarging grows thinner, wearing away with wind and -weather, till the oldest trunks are but thin, gray bones that sometime -get too frail to support the superstructure. Then comes a wind in the -forest and the palmetto’s life work is finished.</p> - -<p>Fancy hunting in groves like that for a proper fishing pole! Bamboo, -which makes—I acknowledge it grudgingly—about as good a pole as birch, -may be planted here and will thrive, but few people have so far had the -wisdom to set out bamboo groves. Lacking the culture of fishing poles by -thus setting out bamboo the “Cracker” may indeed cut something which -will serve in the hardwood swamps along the river banks. Here the maple -will give him a heavy, stubby pole, which is better than none, or he may -cut one from the soft, white growth of swamp ash. This is better. But -the swamp ash seems to have a poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span> memory for direction. It starts out -growing nobly toward the zenith, but by the second or third year it gets -a new slant, say southwest. Next year this is changed, to southeast, -then northeast, then west, all this while pushing diligently upward from -the root. The result is that by the time a swamp ash is big enough to -cut for a fishing pole, it turns at so many angles that it takes a very -capable man to tell which side of the river he is on when he fishes with -it.</p> - -<p>However, there is almost always someone in a Florida community who has a -real bamboo pole, and as Florida people along the little rivers are the -most kindly and generous of any I have ever met, it is not difficult to -arrange the matter of the pole.</p> - -<p>The man who can find an angleworm in all Florida is an abler man than I -am. The angleworm lives in loam. In Florida the soil is made up of two -ingredients, sharp sand and a peaty black substance which is decayed -vegetable matter. Of just plain, honest loam there seems to be a sad -lack. Hence the lack also of angleworms. Any such, trying to bore -through the soil here, would be actually sandpapered out of existence. -So the fisherman must turn to other sources for bait, and fortunately -there is no lack.</p> - -<p>The straw bass, otherwise known as the large-mouthed black bass, is an -inhabitant of North<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span> America. In the wilds of northern Canada, clear up -on the sources of the Red River of the North, you will find him, and he -occupies the fresh water stretches of the little rivers of southern -Florida, as well. North or South he is most pleasantly edible, and most -wonderfully prolific. In this region he grows to an ultimate weight of -fifteen pounds, though that size is rare. Here, too, the straw bass -provide both bait and fish. In the high waters of June they spawn in all -the little sandy-bottomed “branches” that lead off the river, and by -Christmas the young from a half inch to three inches in length fairly -swarm in the shallow places near where they were spawned. More than -this, the high water of September has carried their schools in countless -millions high upon the savanna and when the winter brings drought these -are stranded, collected in tiny pools everywhere. A scoop net and a pail -are all you need. The cracker gets them with a piece of bagging roughly -sewed on a barrel hoop. With this he scoops up the bottom of the pool, -fish, mud, leaves, lizards and all else, sorting his needs from the -agglomeration at his leisure by the pool side. After all with a pail -full of such good bait, with a bamboo pole cheerfully borrowed, one is -but a prig to regret angleworms and birch woods.</p> - -<p>To a man from the New England pastures, brought up on the good old pole -and bait system<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span> of fishing, the dark pools of the lagoons that border -the upper reaches of the St. Lucie are full of mystery. When he drops -the wriggling bait into their depths he little knows what he may pull -up. The river itself has two currents even almost up to its source, one -upstream, the other down. One comes from the reserve of rainfall in a -thousand pools of the inland savanna, the other from the sea. Up with -the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling silvery bodies in the -dark water till it gleams with moonlight reflections. Now and then a -manatee, rare indeed nowadays, lifts a human-like face above its -surface, then sinks again to browse on the weeds of the bottom. Here -swims the black jewfish, never found under a hundred pounds in weight -and running from that to five hundred. Up the river runs the cavalla, a -mighty fighter that reaches a hundred pounds in weight and makes the -most marvelous leaps when trying to escape the hook. Here in the depths -or on the surface the alligator hunts, not at all particular as to what -he gets to eat, provided he gets it. The alligator’s habit seems to be -to masticate first and investigate at leisure.</p> - -<p>All these things one may catch at one time or another when fishing in -Florida rivers. Down on the Indian River the other day mullet fishermen -found a manatee securely entangled in their net, hauled it ashore and -photographed it, then</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_021" style="width: 391px;"> -<a href="images/i021_page144.jpg"> -<img src="images/i021_page144.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Up with the full tide come sometimes the tarpon, rolling -silvery bodies in the dark water<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">released the frightened creature as the law requires. A cracker neighbor -of mine down river who sets trawls gets all sorts of pleasant surprises -when he goes to draw in his lines. The other morning he found the river -full of a most extraordinary commotion, a veritable dragon hissing and -roaring and lashing its brown water into foam. Several shots with a -rifle quieted the beast, which turned out to be a six-foot alligator. A -fish had swallowed the hook, then the alligator had swallowed the fish, -sometime during the night, and had been keeping the river in uproar ever -since, not because he had a hook in his stomach—an alligator will -swallow hardware, stove wood, or anything else—but because he could not -get away to meet an engagement elsewhere.</p> - -<p>Somewhat mindful of these things I sought for my first fishing spot a -secluded bayou. Here I should be safe from dragons and here in the deep -pools the bass congregate in the cool weather of late January. Here -where the black water moves sedately along under the tender green of new -willow leaves I drop my bait and watch my bob. In just such a spot -fifteen hundred miles to the northward I have caught many a fish. Even -the green of the willow is the same, nor is the willow itself of a -strange variety. It is, I am confident, <i>Salix nigra</i>, the black willow -or the brittle willow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span> easily recognized by various characteristics, -one being the exceeding brittleness of its small twigs. The light sweep -of a hand will bare a branch. Beyond the willow is the deep carnelian -red of maple keys and there are young leaves on the soft-wooded swamp -ash trees all about. Yet there is this difference. In the North the -leaves on an ash tree come forward in stately march, in full company -front, one twig no whit behind another. Here they are out of step, some -twigs having just broken bud, others being clothed with half-grown -leaves. Perpetual sunshine has made the ash unpunctual.</p> - -<p>With these things, however, all semblance to a Northern fishing pool -ceases. I look past my floating bob into the depths and find there -reflected the palms that top the wood with gray trunks and spreading -frond-like leaves. The crooked ash shrubs hold air plants at every -angle, each now sending up a stiff, rose-purple spike of bloom. On the -opposite bank from the green willow grows a clump of the huge -<i>Achrostichum aureum</i>, a Florida fern taller than myself, its tropic -effect entirely dwarfing the <i>Osmunda regalis</i> and <i>Osmunda cinnamomea</i>, -both of which line fishing pools North and seek the same locations down -here. With these grow the linear leaves and white odorous blooms of the -crinum, which is of the amaryllis family but whose blos<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span>soms have all -the effect of a stalk of Easter lilies. These are springing into bloom -all about, now, and soon the river will be lined with them.</p> - -<p>But what is this? The bob is most placidly and gently bobbing. Here is a -bite almost like that of a Massachusetts eel. Something is taking the -bait with an almost painful solemnity. It goes down a little and then a -little more and finally I lift, inquiringly, and find a fish on the -hook. It is a lively fish, too, once he feels the bite of the barb and -struggles gamely but vainly as I lift him out. A bass! Only a little -fellow, half to three-quarters of a pound, but who ever heard of a bass -taking bait thus placidly? Up in a Massachusetts lake that I know the -large-mouthed bass take a bait with a rush that carries everything -before it. They whirl beneath the water and leap above it, shaking their -heads to throw from the mouth the thing that hurts them. Surely Southern -languor has gotten into the bones of the bass. Another comes to the hook -in the same peaceful way and I land him. Then there is a lull. A wind -out of the south blows up river and brings me the odor of palmetto -blooms. I always think of loquats when I first smell this. It seems to -be the same odor only not so strong, thinned out seemingly by distance. -The palmetto blossom is not obtrusive. Its flower stalk springs from -among the leaves and does not lift above them. The blooms are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span> tiny and -yellowish white. I speak of the loquat as having the same odor, but -Southern people always say it reminds them of the Madeira vine.</p> - -<p>Following the odor of the palmetto blooms come two butterflies, both -common to the North and the South, one a monarch, the other the tiger -swallowtail, <i>Papilio turnus</i>. The turnus circles the pool and finally -lights on the willow blooms across the stream. I watch him with some -eagerness, for the blue of his after wings, instead of being confined to -a single spot, is spread out into a cerulean border which is of singular -beauty. All other markings are those of the turnus, but this is new to -me, and while I am wondering whether this is merely an aberrant form or -a variety of Papilio unknown to me, I feel a lively tugging at my line. -I look down at the bob and laugh in glee. Here is an old friend I am -confident. Only a sunfish bites thus with a bold bobbing that will not -be denied. I pull him out and find I am right.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But when Hiawatha saw him<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Slowly rising through the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Lifting up his disk refulgent,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Loud he shouted in derision,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">‘Esa! esa! shame upon you,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">You are Ugudwash the sunfish;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">You are not the fish I wanted,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">You are not the king of fishes.’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>True indeed; the sunfish is no king of fishes, but his bite, compared -with that of the Florida</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_022" style="width: 600px;"> -<a href="images/i022_page148.jpg"> -<img src="images/i022_page148.jpg" width="600" height="418" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“A manatee, rare indeed nowadays”</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">straw bass, is kingly indeed. And, as a matter of fact, properly pan -broiled the sunfish of the Florida lagoons is the equal if not the -superior to the lazy bass.</p> - -<p>The bass seem to occupy the depths of the pool, the sunfishes the -shallower edges. These I soon fish out, but while I am doing it I happen -to look at the center of the pool and see rise from below a fine big -fish. My! but he must weigh five pounds. He sticks his nose just above -the surface and scuttles below again. Him surely I must have. I sink -deep and drop the bait low in the middle of the pool. Something bobs the -float gently once or twice, then it sinks steadily and when I stop it I -am sure the big fellow is on. I pull valiantly and so does he, but my -muscle prevails and soon I swing him in onto the ground. This is a new -fish to me, a well-built, fine-looking chap with a long back fin that -nearly includes his tail. He certainly weighs several pounds and I am -proud of him. I speculate as to his proper name, and finally conclude he -must be a sea trout. Another bite in the deep hole and I swing to a good -weight again. This time it is a three-pound catfish. Then there comes -another lull.</p> - -<p>Nightfall comes rapidly when you are fishing. Before I know it the sky -is crimsoning for the sunset and up and down the river the wood ducks -begin to fly in flocks of three to ten crying plain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span>tively, “Oo—eek, -oo—eek.” My pool seems fished out and I begin to move on restlessly, -trying new spots. In one of these I get a sudden rush of a bite, such as -should come from a husky Northern bass and pull out a pickerel-like fish -with scales like those of a snake and a long pointed snout set with -bristling teeth. That is the last. I put him on the slender string with -the others and plod along toward home in the crimson glory. Out of a -drainage ditch I startle a half dozen killdeer plover and they dash -madly away, screaming their lonely, querulous note. Every ditch has its -killdeers and I suspect them of feeding on the young bass which I use -for bait. By and by I am on the road again and as I pass a house set -among pineapple and orange groves with its little patch of ladyfinger -bananas behind it, some lively urchins cease their play to gaze rather -critically at my string of fish.</p> - -<p>“What do you call this one?” I ask, exhibiting my several pound “sea -trout,” with carefully concealed pride.</p> - -<p>“That one?” comes the reply with undisguised scorn, “that’s no good. -That’s a mudfish. Some folks eat ’em.”</p> - -<p>They all looked at me to see if I was of the “some folks” sort that -would eat a mudfish and I hastened to disclaim any such intention.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Nobody eats catfish, either,” went on my informant.</p> - -<p>“And this one; what’s this?” I hazarded, exhibiting the long-snouted, -piratical, pickerel-like one.</p> - -<p>“That’s a garfish,” they replied in chorus, “that’s no good either.”</p> - -<p>As I went on up the road I heard them snickering among themselves, -though they had been politely solemn to my face.</p> - -<p>“Huh!” said one. “He didn’t even know what a garfish was.”</p> - -<p>But then, like all the local fishermen they called the wide-mouthed bass -“trout.” Knowledge is no one person’s monopoly, anyway.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><br /> -<small>PALMETTOS OF THE ST. LUCIE</small></h2> - -<p>The cattle men, whose wealth is in range cattle, roaming at will, take -advantage of the dry weather of winter to set the world afire. Hence a -soft, blue haze all about that makes the wide spaces between trees misty -and uncertain and puts vague touches of romance on all distances. By day -a cloudy pillar shows where this fire has got into thick, young growths -of pines and is towering heavenward in pitchy smoke. By night the level -distance is weird with flickering light, and the wanderer is guided by a -moving column of flame as were the Israelites of old.</p> - -<p>After these moving lines of fire have passed, the flame often lingers -for days in stumps of the pine, eating away at the fat wood which is -solid and green with resin. A chip off a dead stump of a Florida pine -will burn at the touch of a match. All over the flatwoods are these -stumps, often standing fifty feet high and a foot or two in diameter. -The bark has fallen, leaving them to personate thin ghosts in the vivid -light of moon-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span>flooded nights. The sap wood of these trees softens with -decay after a while, but the heart stands firm for unlimited years. The -Florida farmers, who must fence their farms from the range cattle if -they wish to keep them, use this heartwood for fence posts and it is -fabled to last in the ground a century. When the fires of the cattle men -have burned over the ground, leaving nothing behind but ashes and the -blackened trunks of scrub palmettos which look like scaly dragons, -charred and writhing because of the fire, the sap wood of the standing -pine trunks holds the flame and it winds spirally about the hard center -night after night, till it flutters like a bird from the topmost -pinnacle and vanishes toward the stars. Of windy nights you may see -these crimson flocks fluttering and taking wing. By day the black heart -wood of the stub still stands, charred, but erect and firm as ever.</p> - -<p>Very different is it with the sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower -often as high as the pines, but whose roots are in the moister soil. The -fire may run up these if they have not lost the “boots” as the clasping -petioles of their great leaves are called, but it does nothing more than -slightly blacken the real trunk. The palmetto decays differently from -the pine. When it lies rotting in the forest it is the outer husk which -is solid after years; the inner part decays and leaves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span> a hollow which -is an easy refuge for wild things. In the palmetto trunk the coon finds -safety and the opossum curls up by day, waiting for his nightly raiding -time to come. The cotton-tailed rabbit, however, does not affect the -interior of the palmetto stub. For a siesta after foraging he tramps out -a little grassy apartment among the scrub palmettos. Usually this is -entered by the top, the rabbit hopping down into it when arriving and -hopping out with nervous haste and white tail high in air when I happen -upon him.</p> - -<p>When he comes to hollow palmetto logs, I suspect br’er rabbit of passing -with a shudder, not because of opossums or raccoons, or foxes or -polecats, all of which might rush out on him from such places, and all -of which eat him. But the rabbit has little real fear of these. He can -escape from them too readily. There is another occasional occupant of -the hollow palmetto, however, for whom br’er rabbit has much horror, and -I confess to similar feelings when I chance upon him suddenly. That is -the gopher snake. Not that I have any real excuse for this feeling, for -the gopher snake is not only perfectly harmless to all creatures except -those that he swallows whole, but he is one of the handsomest snakes -known. His main color is an intense indigo blue, so deep that it is a -blue black, whence another common name, the indigo snake. His entire -scalation is as</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_023" style="width: 410px;"> -<a href="images/i023_page154.jpg"> -<img src="images/i023_page154.jpg" width="410" height="552" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Sabal palmettos whose cabbage heads tower often as high -as the pines<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">polished as glass and his length reaches sometimes nine feet.</p> - -<p>One that I know lives by the roadside down near the river and I can find -him there almost any sunny day that I go along. He cast his skin some -days ago and came out the most striking snake I have ever seen. His -blue-black back shone like glass, his under parts showed all the -prismatic colors on the plates of the abdomen, where he looked like -burnished metal, while his chin, throat and two streaks on each side of -the head were a rich red. The road near his favorite sunning spot has -been corduroyed with palmetto trunks, and when I approach too near, say -within two or three feet, he slips forward with an easy, gliding motion -and goes into a hollow trunk, usually turning round within and putting a -foot or two of his head and neck out again to see what is going on. He -is not at all afraid and shows neither nervousness nor anger as he -glides away. In fact, I am the one that is nervous. I am convinced that -Adam was my ancestor. It was Eve that hobnobbed with the serpent. I can -see Adam having cold chills and stepping lively for a big stick.</p> - -<p>The gopher is really in a limited way a household pet of the region. He -is a mighty hunter of rats, and in consequence is welcomed about barns -and outbuildings and even sometimes invades the loosely built houses in -his vocation. He yields<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span> readily to friendly advances and in captivity -is a gentle pet.</p> - -<p>To really see palmettos you will do well to explore the St. Lucie River. -Incidentally you will see a river whose tropical beauty exceeds that of -the famed Tomoka, and, I believe, any other river in Florida. I think -the St. Lucie originally intended to be straightforward, but it does it -by a most amazing series of windings and crooks. Within a half-mile you -will face all points of the compass on this bewildering, bewitching -river, nor may you be sure by the current which way you are going. So -slight is the fall between source and mouth that the salt sea which -floods in through the Indian River gets tangled in the crooks of the St. -Lucie and goes on and on to within a few miles of the source before its -force is entirely spent. Then only does it allow the water from the -savanna springs to go downward to the sea.</p> - -<p>Twenty miles up come the mangroves, their seeds floating on the brimming -tides and germinating within the husk, to find root eventually along the -shores and grow new shrubs with ovate, shiny leaves. At high tide the -mangroves remind me of the alders which fringe the ponds and streams at -home. At low tide to see them from the river is to be astonished at -their forests of inch-thick waterpipe roots, dropping in parallel lines, -perpendicularly from their butts into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span> brackish water. Higher than -the mangroves grow the soft, swamp ash trees, holding the ground in the -river-carved swamps sometimes to the seclusion of other trees. The wood -of these trees is very soft, white and brittle and the trunks are never -large, six inches being a good diameter. Soon, too, they become hollow -and the crooked, leaning trees rot and fall to the ground bringing with -them great stores of air plants that grow, pineapple-like, along their -trunks from base to tip. With the tender green of the young ash leaves -come the blossoms of these air plants, giving the angular, awkward trees -the appearance of putting out tropic spikes of purple-stemmed, -blue-flowered beauty.</p> - -<p>Here and there the live-oaks, never very numerous in this region, show -dark green on the higher banks. The live-oak is the symbol of stability -and even virility, if you please, but it is at the best somber and glum. -It drops its leaves grudgingly, one by one, putting out its new ones in -the same way, thus always retaining its cloth of dark green. In October -it was hard to distinguish the difference between the live-oaks and the -water-oaks. Both seemed somber and dour. Not long ago the water-oaks -went bare in evidence that winter was here. But now you should see them! -First they showed a misty, sage green with tender lights in it. The sun -of another day<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span> lighted this up with a nascent bronze that was full of -soft withdrawals and tender shynesses, and the wee leaves grew hourly -broader with a surgence of gentle green through the short petioles, -suffusing the whole tree with a tender, translucent beauty, as endearing -as that of a Massachusetts May. Here in southern Florida winter is but a -word that is not quite spoken, but spring comes very really, though not -as it does in the North. There it rises like an all-pervading tide. Here -it wells forth in spots as if the fountain Ponce de Leon sought bubbled -at intervals, here and there. Spring in the North is a symphony; here it -is a fugue.</p> - -<p>Along the St. Lucie grow maples all richly salmon red with young leaves -and winged fruit. Willows are gray-green, too, and the sweet gum is a -milky way of green stars with the divergent points of its new leaves. -Here are creepers, lithe as snakes that climb from the muddy shores to -the tops of the highest trees and swing down again, trailing tips in the -water. In the dusk of the swamps the white blooms of the crinum glow -like stars that are reflected in the black water.</p> - -<p>But with all this luxuriance of other growing things the tree that -dominates the St. Lucie is the palmetto. It grows from the black muck of -the swamp, where the slow tides swirl sedately around its roots, and it -towers from the highest<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span> bank where the live-oak roots grip the sand -with tenacity that holds it even against the undermining effect of the -spring floods. Where the floods have had their way it leans far out over -the water, or even drops into it, the long, straight trunk a famous -climbing place for foot-wide turtles that come out to sun themselves and -sit in solemn, silent rows with their heads tipped back so that the -warmth may strike their throats. These plunge beneath the surface with -much splashing as you pass, then secretly and silently paddle back and -crawl out after a while. If the current did not cut the banks and let -the palmettos fall the big turtles would have hard work to get their -share of the spring sunshine. Often a water-oak leans far out over the -water in this way, a favorite roosting place for the water turkeys.</p> - -<p>The water turkey reminds me of a crow that has had his neck pulled. He -is rather rare, of a not very numerous family, the anhingidæ or darters, -there being only four species in the world. The bird is the funniest -thing on the river. Its glossy crow-black is touched with white, and in -some specimens this change begins at the shoulders and makes the whole -neck look as if plucked. The anhinga dives like a loon and lives on -fish, though how it gets them down that preposterously thin neck I -cannot explain. It is some<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span>times called snake-bird, and perhaps the neck -stretches for deglutition as does a snake’s. Often as I paddle up to -one, pointing his slim, serrate-toothed, sharp-pointed bill this way and -that, as if trying to poke holes in the atmosphere through which to -escape, then with a tremendous burst of nervous energy whirring on short -wings over my head, I note a big bunch at the base of this preposterous -neck, which I take to be his crop distended with nourishing fish. He is -a nervous bird, and he seems to fly with a lump in his throat. Once in -the air he soars prettily like a hawk, and often comes back into his -tree again, slamming with scrambling haste to a perch whence he cranes -his head this way and that. Sometimes the water turkey, surprised on a -low limb, will go into the river with a splash that reminds me of the -way a kingfisher takes a fish.</p> - -<p>After that it is hard to see the bird again. He has a way of coming just -to the surface and poking up that slim head and neck to look around -while yet his body is submerged. If you do happen to see him you then -realize why the name “snake-bird” has been given to him. The natives who -refuse to eat the catfish from the river declare the water turkey most -toothsome. After all, there is a good deal in a name. No one eats cats, -but we all know turkey is delicious.</p> - -<p>The pileated woodpeckers love the banks of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span> St. Lucie, their homes -in the holes that so often look toward the river from palmetto stubs on -the banks. Once seen, I do not find the bird difficult of approach. I -watched one at close range the other morning for a quarter of an hour -while he dug at an ash limb as if he intended to make a nest in it, but -after all his grubbing was merely for breakfast food, which he pulled -out and swallowed with gusto, his little slim neck and perky head -reminding me of those of a guinea-fowl. I do not think <i>Ceophlœus -pileatus</i> a handsome bird, but he is fast becoming a rare one and just -to watch a pair is a privilege.</p> - -<p>There is nothing rare about the little green heron. He is almost as -common to Massachusetts in summer as he is to Florida in winter, yet I -think I would pick him for the gentle genius of the stream. On bright -days this little fellow is not so easy to find. You will pass a dozen, -sitting motionless and dumpy, head on breast and neck telescoped down -between the shoulders, for one that you will see. He is a sweet little -cherub of a bird thus, and he will keep his pose till you approach very -near, knowing that immobility often means invisibility. I like to -steadily intrude on him and watch his change of demeanor when he feels -sure that he is watched. Gradually all dumpiness goes. His neck appears, -then stretches till he will almost rival the water turkey.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span> Alertness -grows upon him. His head cocks with a perky air and a crest rises on it. -He walks, foot over foot, up his limb and finally poises there, as -assertive and vigilant as a red-headed street urchin standing tiptoe -behind the bat when the bases are full and the honor of the ward hangs -on the next play. He reminds me of just that. But the resemblance ceases -when he flies, for he just gives a flop or two, over perhaps to the next -bush, then sinks into immobility again, seemingly confident that he has -found safety by his flop.</p> - -<p>But over all rare or common birds, graceful or awkward shrubs or trees, -waves everywhere the benedictory grace of the palmettos. Ferns love them -and climb by the brackets of their young trunks to the tops where they -still grow when the trees are old and the boles are smooth to the crown -of living petioles. Often the weather or some strange trick of growth -has carved the upper portions of these aged trunks till the feathery -fronds seem set in vases mounted in pedestals, and the ferns and air -plants seem as if tucked into these by the slim fingers of some tall -goddess of the woods. So across them falls the topaz splendor of the -tropic sunset and as quick night glooms the river the passing sun -caresses the palmettos last and leaves them, rustling gentle wildwood -talk among themselves, waiting his return.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_024" style="width: 403px;"> -<a href="images/i024_page162.jpg"> -<img src="images/i024_page162.jpg" width="403" height="582" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“As quick night glooms the river the passing sun caresses -the palmettos last<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><br /> -<small>INTRUDING ON WARD’S HERONS</small></h2> - -<p>Ward’s heron is the Florida variety of the great blue heron, like him -only more so. There is slight difference in the marking, the <i>Ardea -wardi</i> having olive instead of black legs, whiter lower parts, and a -somewhat darker neck. But Ward’s heron is almost a foot taller than the -other, and when you see the two fly side by side you might well think -the great blue heron the little blue heron, so much does this peninsular -prototype dwarf his compatriot of wider range. There are Ward’s herons -in the big lagoon here east of White City mornings that I am confident -stand six feet in height. Out there on marshy islands they have a superb -dignity of pose, statues of frozen alertness. Taking wing they blanket -the landscape with wide pinions and their legs stretch rudder-wise to a -great length behind them, while their necks are doubled back on -themselves till the head is hunched in between the shoulders and the -protruding neck curve looks like a pouch. By this use of the neck you -will know them in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span> distance from the sandhill cranes because the -crane flies with neck fully stretched. But the sandhill crane is a foot -shorter, anyway. Ward’s heron rarely gets out of Florida, being found -most frequently in the lower two-thirds of the State, or from Alachua -County down.</p> - -<p>It was by way of the sandhill cranes that I came to the heron rookery. -They have a way of setting up a most prodigious cackling, a sonorous -croaking call that outdoes all the barnyard fowls in St. Lucie County. -It is quite like the barnyard, too, a cutdarkuting as of husky Plymouth -Rock hens that have laid eggs and are proud of it. It carries far. The -first time I heard it I hastened cautiously a mile or two through the -flat-woods, expecting every minute to come onto the birds. But after I -had made my mile or two the birds took flight, writing black Greek -letters along the horizon. Most often in the dawn I heard them over -toward the big lagoon and traced the sound there to its most conspicuous -landmark. This is a tiny island, holding a score or two of cabbage -palmettos flanked with odorous myrtles, these in turn standing in a -jungle of ferns, osmundas in the main, a picturesquely beautiful spot, -standing in the middle of this big, shallow lagoon that stretches thirty -miles, north and south, flanking the pineapple-clad ridge from Fort -Pierce down.</p> - -<p>To this shore in the gray of dawn the sound</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_025" style="width: 410px;"> -<a href="images/i025_page164.jpg"> -<img src="images/i025_page164.jpg" width="410" height="588" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“A superb dignity of pose, statues of frozen -alertness<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">led me and then vanished with all evidence, the croaking cranes having -slipped away on silent wings. I stopped a moment to admire the sunrise. -It was a clear, winter morning, cool for Florida, and dawn had tumbled -suddenly out of a cloudless sky, upon a flat land. It was too cold for -the usual morning mists and there was nothing to restrain the light. It -was daybreak all in a moment. Yet, after all, there was a good space of -time between the dawn and the sunrise, a time in which all the sky in -the east grew golden and then crimson. The island was two islands, one -under the other with half the palms pointing directly toward the nadir. -Lagoons within the lagoon reflected the pellucid blue of the high sky -and the crimson gold of the eastern horizon, seven-foot saw grass -dividing them with its dense tangle. Out of this saw grass came the -clucking of coot as the flocks began to bestir themselves. Then there -was a great chorus of musical chuckles and a great cloud of witnesses to -the joy of living arose. The coot spend the night in the water in the -little pools among the saw grass, but the grass tops are full of -blackbirds all night long.</p> - -<p>With the chorus out they came, a thousand redwings flying jubilantly -overhead to their feeding grounds. Behind me in the palmetto scrub there -was further rustle of wings and todo of waking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span> birds. I turned to see -what was there and a wave of warmth struck my back and swept by me. I -knew by that that the sun had popped up over the pineapple ridge to -eastward and the day had fairly begun, but I waited, still watching the -palmetto scrub that here grew in dense shrubbery, three feet high. Out -of it came a cock robin, swinging so near me that he shied with a little -nervous shriek of dismay. At the word the palmetto began to spout -robins, singly and in flocks, filling the air with their fluttering and -their good morning cries till the eruption had lasted for several -minutes and I do not know how many hundred birds had taken wing. In this -region the robins, still lingering on the fifteenth of February as if -they knew of the snow and zero weather North, keep together in flocks, -often of hundreds if not thousands of birds. Moreover, they roost -together, always on or near the ground amongst the scrub palmettos, -though why there instead of the pines or the tall palmettos I do not -know. So with the blackbirds, redwing and rusty, crow blackbird and -Florida grackle, all seem to roost low together in the great beds of saw -grass out in the lonely lagoon.</p> - -<p>Turning back to the east, I found the lagoon a flood of crimson glory -with my palm-topped island swimming in it, all rimmed with fire, for the -sun was just behind the dense trees whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span> feathery fronds seemed just -crisping with its flame. And then I looked again, carefully, and took -the bird glass from my pocket and focused that on the tree tops as best -I might against the crimson glow, for there above the fronded palms -stretched a half-dozen or so of long necks with big, keen-pointed beaks -set on small heads that topped the necks at right angles. Standing in -the palm tops, or perhaps sitting there, were a dozen great Ward’s -herons. I watched them for some time in their comings and goings, and -soon made up my mind that there were many nests there.</p> - -<p>I had stumbled upon a Ward’s heron rookery and was greatly pleased. Yet -so far the stumble was a long-distance one. The island was an eighth of -a mile away, and though there are boats on the lagoon, the saw grass -grows so dense and divides portions of it off from other portions so -definitely and finally, that none were available. You cannot penetrate -the saw grass with a boat. I tried wading in it out toward my island, -for the lagoon is nowhere deep except in the alligator holes, but only a -pretty desperate man would make his way far in the saw grass. The herons -flew croaking to and fro to their nests, but I had to be content to -watch them with the bird glass.</p> - -<p>Some days later I had built a tiny canoe of cotton drilling, stretched -over palmetto-stalk ribs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span> and painted. The adventures of this wee -coracle, going to the lagoon, on the lagoon, and coming from the lagoon -were humorously grotesque and exciting, but they have no part in this -story. It is sufficient to say that it floated like a bird—too much -like a bird sometimes—and that after due study and persistence, I -reached the island in it a morning about a week after the discovery of -it. I was right. The palmetto tops were full of the nests of Ward’s -heron.</p> - -<p>The island itself was a gem of palm-topped green in the clear water of -the lagoon. Along its edges sedges and bulrushes grew from the water, -and as the ground rose one came upon a grove of the lovely olive-colored -myrtle, the spicebush of the South. Among these myrtles growing almost -breast high were the Osmunda ferns, regalis mostly, so thick that they -made progress slow. Beneath the palmettos was a noisy debris of fallen -leaves, that rattled and crunched under foot, reminding one of walking -through Northern woods in winter when there is a crust on the snow. It -was not until I struck this pseudo snow crust that the herons took -alarm. Then there was a crashing in the tree tops as great wings flapped -against the broad, stiff leaves of the palms and the birds took flight -with harsh croaks, circling about till I was reminded of the harpies in -the Æneid. Some flapped off to the mainland, others lighted</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_026" style="width: 568px;"> -<a href="images/i026_page168.jpg"> -<img src="images/i026_page168.jpg" width="568" height="404" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A little blue heron and her nest, the commonest Florida -heron</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">in the marsh shallows near by and froze there. It is surprising how -immediately a big heron, thus motionless, becomes but an inanimate part -of the landscape and escapes notice. Never before had I seen the big -birds so near, every mark and feather of their noble forms being brought -to close range by the glass. A most striking feature was the long, -drooping, graceful plume which grew from the back of the head, a mark of -the breeding season.</p> - -<p>I found young birds in various stages of growth, from those almost grown -which took wing when too closely approached, to little chaps that peeped -beseechingly when the old birds came sailing back, evidently expecting -to be fed. There were other nests in which I could see no young birds -which seemed to be in good condition and which I thought contained eggs. -But how was I to prove this? I might “shin” one of the smooth, straight -trunks if it were like that of a Northern tree. But shinning a palmetto -is another matter. The endogenous fiber crumbles on the outside, as to -the weather-worn pith, but leaves the trunk beset with tiny splinters -that fill whatever rubs too intimately against them. I might climb one -of these palmetto trunks in that way if I had to; in fact, a morning or -two later—but of that anon. I decided that one tall palm dominated a -series of nests and if I could perch<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span> among its fronds I would be able -to make intimate study of what goes on in heron land. I circumnavigated -the island and crossed it from side to side, finding there nothing to -alarm but much to interest.</p> - -<p>Some days later I came back, equipped to go to the top of my selected -palm. It was a different sort of a morning. All the day before the wind -had blown from the south and the sun had shone fervently in on a land -that lay sweltering in warmth under a midsummer-like temperature. The -weather which had been like that of the finest October became like that -of the finest July. A myriad insects, before silent, found a voice as -evening came on and the night, so full of genial warmth, thrilled with -their gentle calls. Frog voices came from the little ponds in the -savanna on the way down to the big lagoon, and that chill which comes -with a windless dawn even was not great enough to silence them. Only the -daybreak put out the lights of the big fireflies whose yellow-green, -fairy lamps had glowed and paled all night long among the grasses and -bushes of the roadside. Something of the fervor of the tropics had come -upon the land.</p> - -<p>I ought to have realized what other life this genial warmth was likely -to bring out, especially on the little island, the one dry refuge in -miles of wild lagoon, but a month of cold weather had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span> lulled me into -forgetfulness of what every man who tramps the wilds of southern Florida -must not forget. So I landed right eagerly and marched up under the -palmettos with an armful of short, stout slats, a pocket full of nails, -a hammer and a small saw. I would nail the slats, ladderwise, one above -another up the trunk of my chosen palmetto, saw an entrance to the very -center of the branching fronds at its top, and there I should sit, the -very head of the palmetto cabbage, in a bower of green, watching my -neighbors in a score or so of nests a little below me. I submit that it -was a proper scheme, and the only reason why it was not carried out to -immediate success was that I had not reckoned on the tenants of the -lower flat.</p> - -<p>Upstairs everything was all right. The herons flapped away with croaking -dismay as I came beneath their trees. I could see the long necks of some -of the half-mature birds stretched upward from the nests of slender -crossed reeds and sticks, and I glanced from them to the ground beneath -the selected palmetto as I strode over brittle rubbish of their dead -leaves and brush and royal ferns. And then I stopped with one foot in -the air and a little whoop of dismay and utter terror of what was about -to happen, for there beneath my selected palm, almost beneath my raised -foot, was the body of a great snake. His head and tail<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span> were both hidden -by the fallen palmetto leaves, but I knew he could not be less than -seven feet long by his thickness, which was several inches. I doubt if I -could have much more than spanned him with my two hands at any part of -his visible length, about five feet, as he stretched from palm to palm.</p> - -<p>However, I did not try any such test. I was content to gaze at him with -bulging eyes and watch him, in breathless silence, for fear he might -make the first move. Nor was this study reassuring. It began with hopes -that he might be merely one of the harmless big south Florida snakes. -Some of these are found eight feet long and proportionately big round, -and are looked upon with friendly favor by people who know them best, -because they not only eat rats and other vermin but are fabled to kill -and eat the poisonous snakes. The study ended in the conviction that -here was none of these. I knew that I was looking upon a grandfather of -rattlers, a diamond-back seven feet long, four inches thick, and stuffed -with venom from his little wicked yellow eyes to his stubby tail. Almost -any hunter of this region will show you seven-foot skins. Some have dens -hung with them. Here was the real thing.</p> - -<p>In blithely entering this apartment house, bound for the upper story, I -had reckoned with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span>out the hosts of the lower flat. On my previous visit -this present incumbent, and I knew not how many more, had been stowed, -torpid, beneath the leaves for warmth. This was their weather, and they -were sleeping without many bedclothes.</p> - -<p>I reached for my shooting-coat pocket and brought out a 38-caliber -revolver. I had carried this for months for just such a desperate -emergency, and the sight of its gleaming barrel gave me confidence. But -not when I noted the tremulous figure eights which the front sight made -in the air as I tried to get a bead on mine enemy. This would not do. A -miss or a wound would mean an argument for which the island was far too -small, from my point of view, to say nothing of the possible -reënforcements for the other fellow. I backed gingerly away with both -eyes over both shoulders as well as on the snake which moved almost -imperceptibly. I tiptoed round him, trying to find some vantage ground, -trying to get a little less shake into the muzzle of that revolver, but -it was no use. The thought of stirring him up in the midst of that -tangle of dead palm leaves, royal ferns and bushes was not a pleasant -one, and I tiptoed back along my trail to my canoe, which looked mighty -cozy and comfortable when I got to it. This cautious retreat was wise, -too. The rattler did not follow me, but on my way I passed two big -cotton-mouthed moc<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span>casins, thick, clumsy, four feet long and -stubby-tailed, and almost as venomous as the rattlesnake whose island -they helped tenant. I must have stepped within a foot of these on my way -in.</p> - -<p>The island in the big lagoon is a lovely spot. Its tenants of the upper -story are beautiful and most fascinating. But the folk of the lower -flat! Br-r r, wur-r r, ugh!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><br /> -<small>ONE ROAD TO PALM BEACH</small></h2> - -<p>One of the Alice-in-Wonderland fruits of the pineapple ridge which lies -to the westward of the Indian River is the papaw. I never see it but I -expect to find the walrus and the carpenter sitting under it engaged in -animated argument. Especially is this the case with one variety, -imported, they tell me, from the West Indies. Here is a stalk that comes -up out of the ground as a milkweed might, green and succulent till it -overtops a man’s head, spreading from this single stem somewhat -milkweed-like leaves from four to eight inches long. Nodding from the -axils of these leaves come the flowers, followed by the fruit which is -the grotesque climax of the whole, for here, stuck close on this -succulent, head-high stem, is a muskmelon, or something just as good, so -far as appearance goes.</p> - -<p>The thick, green rind becomes yellow on ripening and even when you twist -the fruit off and hold it in your hand the muskmelon thought remains -uppermost. You may taste this goblin<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span>land muskmelon if you will and -still not entirely lose the idea, though it is to me something like -eating a muskmelon in a bad dream. There are people who say they like -papaws, and that if you take them at just the right period of their -ripeness and eat them muskmelon-wise with sugar and a spoon you will -hardly know the difference. Such people may have all the papaws that -have thus far been reserved for me.</p> - -<p>Well out in the pine barrens, I find another shrub which is a close -relative of the papaw, the custard apple. This is a wild fruit which I -am quite prepared to believe is delicious, perhaps because I have never -eaten it. The opossums, coons and foxes, all very fond of it, have -gotten ahead of me, long ago, and since their harvesting the low-growing -shrub has been but a leafless thing, not to be noticed in a world of -tropic vegetation. Now creamy white blossoms have burst from the bare -twigs and are sending a new fragrance all along the level barrens on the -soft, summer breeze. This fragrance has in it something of orange -blossoms, something of the fruity odor of the guava which is to some -people unpleasant but which I declare delicious, and a wild delight of -its own. It suggests things good to eat. Some perfumes give you dreams -of disembodiment in heavenly spaces of pure delight. Of such are -carnations and English violets, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span> clethra of our Northern swamps and -the wild cherokee roses of the Southern hedgerows. The odor of the -custard apple blooms makes you think of banquets of delicious fruits -served by pink-fleshed, round-bodied wood nymphs while amorous breezes -blow soft from Southern seas.</p> - -<p>The newborn scent of the custard apple blooms has added a zest to the -joy of the morning breezes. These were sufficiently intoxicating before. -Always there are odorous flowers in bloom here, and always there is the -spicy fragrance of the long-leaved pines to form a basis for any delight -which they may bring. The soft winds which are their messengers call you -out mornings early and I do not wonder that this is never a land of the -closet or the counting house. No one whose senses are set a-tremble by -them can stay indoors, and once he is afoot they lead him on and on, nor -does nightfall make him willing to return. Then the great white moon -simply lends further enchantment to the road.</p> - -<p>To-day this lure led me far out on the old Government trail which is -now, strange to relate, one road to Palm Beach. This is one rarely -traversed by the butterflies of fashion. You may see these gliding by on -the Pullman limited, looking with road-weary, unseeing eyes through the -thick glass of the windows. The yachts of others take them down the -sparkling waters of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span> Indian River, but now and then an automobile -enthusiast, lured south by the good trails through Ormond and Daytona -and Rockledge, then bewildered by the vast sand depths of the roads -below and finally learning with sinking heart at Fort Pierce that there -is no bridge across the St. Lucie nearer its mouth, swings westward into -the limitless prairie and follows this old Government trail which swings -out from the noise of breakers somewhere above the head waters of the -St. Lucie, keeps for a dozen to a score of miles to the westward of the -seacoast, and marches steadily southward to Miami. I doubt if the -country along its two shallow ruts is any less wild to-day than it was -in the days of Osceola. Except for those narrow ruts which you may not -see two rods away man has left the region unmarked. You see there what -Ponce de Leon may have seen.</p> - -<p>A mile west of the St. Lucie you still carry the settlements with you. -Here are ditches, that first requisite of Florida farming, and wire -fences, which come next. Here are comfortable houses, set high on -heartwood posts, and here too are groves of grapefruit trees, the great -golden globes weighing the tough branches with their glossy, dark-green -foliage to the ground. Here are dogs that bark and cocks that crow and -all the simple, genial activities of farm life. You</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_027" style="width: 541px;"> -<a href="images/i027_page178.jpg"> -<img src="images/i027_page178.jpg" width="541" height="395" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A Seminole village deep in the flat woods of Southern -Florida</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">go your mile and with the houses at your back you stand within the -untamed wilderness. A mile farther and you may look which way you will -and you are lost from all touch with man. But before you make the mile -you will pause and turn, for there, upside down upon a tree, but with an -arrow pointing due south, is a sign which says, “To Miami”. The last -warning, guiding word of civilization is humorous and you plod southward -into the primeval with a laugh.</p> - -<p>After a little the spaces take you in and make you one with their -fraternity. The sun and the wind spy upon you. The broad blue eye of the -heavens looks you through and finds you fit. Thereafter you begin to see -this barren, lonely world as it is, and find it neither barren nor -lonely. The absolute level begins to show undulations, and after you -have walked it a half-score of miles you may tell the hills from the -valleys though the variation be but that of a half-foot in a quarter -section. Here is the top of a ridge which you might need a theodolite to -find if it were not that it has its own peculiar vegetation. Along this -the taller pines have crept and found permanent foothold. With them have -come the saw palmetto, accentuating the rise of inches by the dense -green vegetation of a foot or two in height. No summer floods have long -topped this ridge, else the palmettos had failed to find perma<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span>nent -rooting here. Down its long slope they fall away, and though the pines -have ventured farther than they, the water has dwarfed them at first and -later left them but dead stubs a few inches in diameter and standing but -a score or so of feet high.</p> - -<p>A study of them will show you not only the swing of the land from high -to low, but the swing of the seasons through wet to dry and back again. -During long successions of droughty years the pines have seeded down the -slope and made a small growth in the rich bottoms. Then the pendulum of -annual rainfall has swung back again and a series of wet decades have -followed. Through these the trees have failed in growth and died, with -their roots under water. Now their bareback, white stubs stand as -markers on the borders where prairie land runs into muck.</p> - -<p>On the intervals of prairie grow the grasses, soft, brown and ripe with -last year’s growth, showing as yet but little of the green of this. -These paint all the background of the scene with their olives and tans, -as if the painter of it first made his background with grass, then set -his figures and lights and shades upon this, the gray stubs, the deep -brown trunks of living trees, the vivid green of the palmetto leaves and -gold of sunlight and purple of shadows chasing one another over all. The -high lights in all this scene<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span> are the pools. Where the long dip of the -land culminates the grasses give way to sedge and bulrush, and these to -sparkling water which catches the shine of the wide sky and throws it -back to the eye in silvery lights.</p> - -<p>Such, in broad splashes of color, is the prairie through which this old -Government trail winds, from the St. Lucie to Palm Beach, and on down to -Miami. Always the pines are present, though seemingly always just -beyond. They stand so far apart that all about you is invariably the -open space, while beyond, dwindling into the distance of receding miles, -the trees draw together and group in a forest that you are never to -find. As you proceed it recedes, slipping away in front and closing in -behind as if the trees, shy but curious, fled, then followed.</p> - -<p>By the time you see all this the wide spaces are no longer lonely, and -the individuals that inhabit them begin to step forward out of the mass -and salute you. I always notice first the prairie flowers. Like the -trees these are scattered here and there, the conspicuous ones in no -wise as plentiful as the daisies and buttercups of Northern meadows. -Scattered like big stars at twilight the heliopsis blooms show golden -disks of composite flowers, veritable tiny suns in the prairie -firmament, while about them revolve constellations of yellow stars of -coreopsis. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span> ground in moist spots is often salmon red with the -plants of the sundew and starred yellow with the blooms of the tiny, -land-born utricularia, while in the pools their larger, many-flowered -brethren float free, touching heads almost and studding the pool as -stars stud the sky on a moonless, winter night.</p> - -<p>Only in the pools is this profusion to be found. In some of these the -blue blooms of the pickerel weed crowd shoulder to shoulder, almost as -close as in some Northern bogs I know. But the flowers of the drier, -grassy plains are far more scattered. Indeed, one may walk a half mile -sometimes and hardly see one. Again they are more numerous but never -what might be called grouped.</p> - -<p>And yet, I must needs revise that again. There are places where the -moist ground is white with <i>Houstonia rotundifolia</i>, which is not so -very different from <i>Houstonia cærulea</i>, the common bluet of our -Northern May fields. In other spots the purple-flowered variety, -<i>Houstonia purpurea</i>, is very plentiful; yet neither have I found making -such solid masses of bloom as the Northern variety. Of all the varied -flowers of these sky-bounded levels, however, the one that pleases me -most is the Calopogon. It makes the beautiful, level wilderness more -beautiful with the quaint racemes of bright purple, curiously -constructed flowers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span></p> - -<p>I think the most conspicuous bird along this lone, level trail is the -black vulture, which in this region seems to be more common than the -turkey buzzard. It is not always easy to distinguish the two at a -distance, but the vulture has shorter wings, is a heavier bird, flaps -oftener in flight and the under sides of his wings are silvery.</p> - -<p>In places where the young grass is springing beneath still growing pines -I find the Florida grackle, which is hardly to be told from our Northern -species, in numbers, feeding on the ground and singing and fluttering -iridescent black wings in the trees. With the blackbird groups fly up -flocks of a swifter, cleaner built bird, colored in the main a slaty -gray. These birds have the unmistakable head of the dove, and my first -thought on seeing a flock of them was that I had stumbled upon a remnant -of that vanishing bird, the passenger pigeon. This was a smaller bird, -however, and, nowadays, a far more common one, the mourning dove. The -whistling of their wings on first starting into flight should have told -me better, for the flight of the passenger pigeon is said to be -noiseless.</p> - -<p>The mourning dove is a beautiful bird, with those gentle outlines which -make all birds of this species lovable, but for quaint, gentle beauty it -has a rival in the ground dove which is quite as common here. These I -find in the open prairie<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span> or among the pines, but far more often in the -scrub of the palmetto hammocks, where they run along the ground almost -at my feet, gentle, lovable and unafraid. The bird seems to be as much -like a quail as a dove as its feet twinkle over the grass. In flight it -is like a picture on a Japanese screen.</p> - -<p>But, after all is said and done, the loveliest bird I have seen in all -the South, pine barrens or savannas, palmetto hammocks or village -gardens, is the bluebird. Here and there these may be found all along -the Palm Beach road, sitting perhaps on top of the gray bones of a dead -prairie pine with the rich cinnamon red of the breast and throat turned -to the sun, or dropping thence like a bit of the blue sky itself, -fluttering down into the olive brown wire grass, seeming to add a more -beautiful bloom to the prairie than I have yet found there. The faint -carol of the bird is so slight a sound that it might well be lost in all -this limitless space, but somehow it seems to carry far and is sweeter -than any song of Southern bird that I have yet heard. When the bluebird -goes North the savannas will have lost their finest touch of beauty and -of charm.</p> - -<p>To those who would see the real Florida I recommend this lone Palm Beach -trail, not taken in the whirl of an automobile rush to safety under the -wing of one of the big hotels, but slowly and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span> with open eyes and ears -that the beauty and significance of the place may enter in. Chief of -these, I fancy, and longest to be remembered will be the wide sweep of -sky which there seems to bend nearer and be bigger, bluer and friendlier -than in most other places. The southeast trade winds sweep across this -sky all day long, and bring with a temperature of June great store of -white clouds that now roll in cumulus heads and again are torn to white -streamers of carded fleece. Sometimes these gather and darken and spill -April-like showers for a moment, then blow over and leave the vivid sun -to pour the round, inverted bowl of the sky full of the sunshine’s gold. -Through it all you walk as if on the pinnacle of the world with the sky -very big and very near and all things friendly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><br /> -<small>MOONLIGHT AND MARCH MORNINGS</small></h2> - -<p>To be sure, March came blustering, but it blew in out of a succession of -moon-flooded nights, soft and brilliant, in which the ineffable love of -the heavens for the earth was so great that the humblest might know it. -The moon did not rise in distant eastern heavens beyond the limit of -human ken. In the pink afterglow of the sunset it was born from the -Indian River, a new golden Venus rising from the silver foam of a -sapphire sea that save for the path of moon-silver was as clear as the -brooding truthful sky.</p> - -<p>For nights the trade winds were lulled and sighed in across the savannas -in little whispered words of peace, whispers that were like the touch of -rose petals on the cheek, as warm as the breath of a sleeping child. It -was as if the fond sky leaned upon the loving shoulder of the world and -was content to dream there. In this nearness and intimacy, this warmth -and peace, wee creatures of the tropic night woke and sang for very joy -of living. The moonlit nights of the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span> last days of January had been -beautiful, but silent and with a chill in them that hushed all vibrant -life and one did not wonder when the morning sun glinted on hoar frost -on all the long grass. There was no frost under this moon of the last -days of February, only a gentle warmth and softness that seemed to woo -all things to life and love. In Massachusetts we are wont to take the -statement that on the fourteenth of February the birds choose their -mates with a somewhat grim smile of forgiving disbelief. In Florida we -know that these are days for all nature to go a wooing, and the voices -that come beneath the late February moon and echo along the winds of -blustering March mornings prove it true.</p> - -<p>It is a wiser man than I that knows the source of all these songs of -love that thrill through the amorous, perfumed air of night. The -fragile, green beauty of the long-horned grasshoppers seems to be -reflected in their night songs that differ in tone from those which they -sing under the searching vigor of the Southern sun. I fancy they needs -must sing differently, and that it is a physical difference rather than -a change of feeling that changes their tune. The soft coolness of the -nights must slack the texture of their wing cases, as damp air changes -the tension of the strings of one’s violin, and they seem to play a -reedier, less strident tune. The Southern<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span> cricket that vies with the -long-horned grasshoppers must be larger than the Northern cricket which -chirps so cozily by the October hearth, if one may judge by voices. Nor -is his cry the same, though it has a resemblance. It is rounder, fuller, -and has something of the tinkling resonance of a metallic instrument.</p> - -<p>The songs that came from the grass under the full light of the February -moon were those of an orchestra that sang with silver throats to an -accompaniment played upon bell metal. Yet the sonorous staccato of each -was so blended with the many that the whole melted into a dreamy haze of -harmony that seemed merely to give a clearer expression of the moonlight -of which it was a part. So when Melba sings, the exquisite harmony of -the hundred quivering strings of the orchestra is but the vocal -expression of the hush of the hearts that wait her voice.</p> - -<p>There were other voices under the moon that ushered in March that made -no harmony with the moonlight, but cut across it with a clear -individuality of their own. The frogs that seemed some weeks ago to be -playing tiny xylophones have given up the wooden bars and now play by -night on pebbles which they strike together, making a quaint, -penetrating shrilling which could be done on no other instruments. Where -they get the pebbles, which are not to be found by man in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span> any part of -the State which I have yet visited, I cannot say. Moonlight is rarely -helpful to too literal inquiry. The sound is very musical with a -fairy-like quality. It is as if elves played musical glasses in this -orchestra in which the grasshoppers and crickets are masters of the -stringed instruments.</p> - -<p>Another frog voice is that of the Southern bullfrog, which might better -be named pigfrog, if voices are to count. The Northern bullfrog is a -hoarse-voiced toper who bellows most sonorously for his favorite liquor. -“Ah-hr-u-m!” he roars. “Ah-hr-u-m!” with the accent on the rum. This is -wicked, of course, but there is a rough virility about it which bends -one’s mind towards forgiveness. Here is Jack Falstaff roaring for sack; -Falstaff, the embodiment of coarse wickedness, and yet the best-loved -rogue in the whole catalogue. No such engaging roisterer is the Southern -bullfrog. His voice is but a grunt out of the fairyland which the moon -makes over the misty savanna with its shallow lakes gleaming with -roughened silver. Cased in this silver sits the Southern bullfrog, with -his nose just out, and grunting like a young razorback. The similarity -is startling, or rather it is not a similarity, but the same thing.</p> - -<p>None of these pigfrogs grunted till the full moon of late February had -brought the requisite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span> warmth. Then, one night I heard them, and went -out in search of the drove of pigs that I was convinced was rooting in -the bean patch of my neighbor across the road. The bean patch was empty, -and the voices lured me on, for then I thought them to be young -alligators, which grunt in similar fashion. The alligator hunter when he -wishes to call the big ones sits motionless in the bow of his boat, -under the gleam of his bull’s-eye lantern, shuts his mouth tight, and -with a peculiar motion of the throat makes a ventriloquial grunt that is -much like this, the difference being that the cracker-alligator grunt is -a mournful one that seems to speak of an internal pain, that of the -pigfrog is a three-syllable grunt of porcine content.</p> - -<p>No wonder I thought them young razorbacks eating beans at seven dollars -a half-bushel crate. But I was wrong. It was merely the love calls of -Southern bullfrogs happy in the witchery of glorious moonlight, and the -full warmth of late February which was jumping joy into all vegetation -and into the hearts of all wild things.</p> - -<p>On nights like this the little screech owl likes to sit up in the -palmettos by the house and sing his little murmurous, quavering song. It -is hard to hear anything mournful or foreboding in this, rather it seems -to voice contentment with perhaps just a note of longing when it is a -call for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span> mate. Sometimes this is answered, the two qualities of -inquiry and reply being distinctly audible though difficult to define. I -think it is the difference between the rise and fall of an inflection. -Another owl voice of the full moonlight is that of the Florida barred -owl.</p> - -<p>The first sound of his “hoo, hoo, hu-hu” is a disquieting one, -especially when near-by. My first hearing of it was near an unoccupied -house, miles from any other, on the bank of the river. Murder had been -done on the place years before and my companion had just finished -telling me about it when in the deep shade of the palmettos, almost over -our heads, a barred owl shouted with his weird, inquiring laugh. It came -the nearest to a materialization of anything I have seen lately. Up on a -stub we soon discovered this big, dark spook of a bird with human-like, -big brown eyes and this disquieting laugh. Soon he sailed on bat-like -wings across the river, where we heard him laughing to himself again and -again in this deep, cynical tone.</p> - -<p>Further acquaintance with the barred owl makes his voice seem less -spooklike. A neighbor of mine has that rarity in southern Florida, a big -fireplace with a genuine brick chimney above it. On the top of this -chimney of a moonlight night a barred owl loves to sit and there hoots -companionably in a subdued, almost conversational tone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span> He has an eye -out for the main chance, though, for if I watch him from outside while -my neighbor squeaks like a rat in the big fireplace, I see him cock his -head like a flash and glare down chimney with one eye, hoping to get it -fixed on the cause of this invitation to dinner. So far we have not been -able to get him to come down chimney after it. The voice of the barred -owl is a familiar night sound at almost any time of the year in Florida, -but it is particularly prevalent now that the birds are breeding.</p> - -<p>Under such sounds and sights as these fades the full moon of February, -and with March mornings comes a blustering vigor into the trade winds -which blow up from the southeast full of the freshness of salt spray, -driving scuds of clouds that smell of the brine torn from Bahama reefs. -This has none of the rough frigidity of the Northern March wind which -seems to hurl javelins through its uproar, following them with -threatening words. These winds bluster words of good cheer and jovial -invitation and slap your face with scent of roses pickled in fresh -brine. It is as much difference as there is between galloping horses -when the one bears the sheriff approaching with a warrant, the other -your true love with a rose.</p> - -<p>It has taken this bluster of winds to make some birds know that it is -time to sing. We had just</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_028" style="width: 595px;"> -<a href="images/i028_page192.jpg"> -<img src="images/i028_page192.jpg" width="595" height="390" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>The gray of dawn on the Indian River</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">a touch of them in late February, and after the touch had passed I heard -my first mocking bird for months. Mocking birds were singing in November -in the northern part of the State, but they ceased when December cold -came in and I did not hear one till that March bluster started them up. -This morning I had but to go out in the gray of dawn to hear golden -melodies from a half dozen, sitting in tops of sapling pines among the -long leaves, swelling gray throats and flirting long tails that remind -me always of the pump handle in the old-time organ loft. I do not know -if it is the power of good example which sets the loggerhead shrike to -singing or not. He rarely gets beyond a few rather insipid notes, before -he sees a grasshopper or some other defenseless creature which he needs -in his collection, and which he proceeds to capture and impale on the -thorn of a sprout in his favorite orange tree. The butcher bird does now -and then capture a small bird and add it to this collection, but I am -convinced that he is not so bad a sinner, after all. Most of his prey is -insects. Looking at my own butterfly collection I have almost a fellow -feeling for him.</p> - -<p>Another great insect destroyer is the little sparrow-hawk which winters -in the savannas in countless numbers. If one would see sparrow-hawks he -should go to a fire. The birds do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span> flock at ordinary times but may -be seen singly, watching for game much as the butcher bird does. But let -a wisp of smoke appear in the air and you find them sailing in on swift -wings from all directions. As the fire gathers headway in the dry grass -and young pine growth they sail about like bats, whirling down into -dense smoke and darting back again to a perch not far from the fire, -always with a fat, flying grasshopper or other insect driven to flight -by the fire. These they seize in their talons in true hawk fashion and -devour when perched.</p> - -<p>How such small birds—the sparrow-hawk is only ten inches long, no -bigger than a robin—manage to include as many fat grasshoppers as I -have seen one pick as brands from the burning, it is hard to tell. He -who shoots a sparrow-hawk shoots a bird whose main record as a destroyer -of insects outweighs his sparrow killing a thousand to one. But the -sparrow-hawk is hardly a morning singer, though he does sometimes pipe -up “killy-killy-killy-killy,” whence the name in some sections, -“killy-hawk.”</p> - -<p>With the coming of the first spring month I am convinced that the -northward movement of migrating birds has begun. The redwing blackbirds -have already gone, so far as the migrating flocks are concerned. Yet -this morning a redwing sat up on the tree-top and showed me his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span> -handsome epaulette and sang lustily. He was a trifle smaller than the -average blackbird of my northern meadow-side acquaintance and his bill -seemed slenderer. Moreover on the end of his song was just an extra -gleeful twist that changed “konkaree” into “konkareedle” and marked the -difference between the Florida redwing who stays at home in the State, -summers and brings up his children there, and the migrants who are -already on the way to distant Northern swamps. In the same way I heard a -robin singing for the first time. The world has been alive with robins -in huge flocks that scatter during the day and regather at night for -roosting. These are half way home already, perhaps just stopping off at -Washington to see what is doing in conservation legislation, which is a -matter of vital interest to all birds.</p> - -<p>Yet here was a robin greeting the first day of the first spring month -with the good old home song with nary a twist or an extra syllable in -it. It wakened a thousand memories that echoed among gray New England -hills, not yet touched with the green of spring. Yet I smelled it in the -swollen brooks and heard it in their roar; and then the wind was in the -palm trees again and there was only the shout of the salt-laden trades, -heavy with the odor of newborn orange blossoms, and I knew that my robin -was probably one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span> of those that elect to stay behind and chance it with -the summer weather in the far South.</p> - -<p>The March day was a little farther advanced when the meadow-lark chorus -began. Like the robin the meadow-lark breeds from the Gulf to New -Brunswick, but whereas most robins migrate well North, the proportion -seems to be somewhat the other way with the meadow-larks. How their -ground-built nests and eggs escape gliding snakes and prowling opossums -and raccoons with which the savannas are infested I do not know. I have -but to examine the mud along ditch sides of a morning to find it -literally criss-crossed with the tracks of these night prowlers, till it -seems impossible that any ground-nesting bird could escape. Yet the -savannas are full of larks’ nests every summer, and the numbers of them -singing cheerily all about are a proof that the birds are wiser or the -vermin stupider than anyone might suppose.</p> - -<p>The meadow-lark’s song is a sweet little trilling whistle. The neighbors -say that it says, “Laziness will kill you,” and after you have once -fitted these words to it you can hear no other translation. I think they -sing it to each other in gentle raillery, for they are among the last of -the singing birds to begin in the morning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><br /> -<small>IN GRAPEFRUIT GROVES</small></h2> - -<p>The Spaniards brought the grapefruit to Florida, and left it behind -them. Here it has been ever since, until the last ten or fifteen years -neglected and despised, but taking care of itself with cheerful -virility. It grew wild, or people planted a few trees about the house -for its rapid growth of grateful shade and the picturesque decoration -which its huge globes of yellow fruit furnished. These few people -considered edible. Now we all know better and the North calls for -grapefruit with a demand that this year is only partly satisfied with -four million of boxes.</p> - -<p>Floridians eat the once despised fruit with avidity now and a thrifty -grapefruit grove is already recognized as a profitable investment. I say -a thrifty grove, for all groves are not thrifty. The tree is lavish to -its friends and in congenial surroundings will produce fruit almost -beyond belief. I have seen a single limb not larger than my wrist -weighed to the ground with ninety-five great yellow globes by actual -count. I have seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span> a whole orchard that had been tended for years with -assiduous care calmly dying down from the top and sinking back into the -earth from whence it sprang.</p> - -<p>More than anything else the grapefruit must have the right subsoil under -it. If you plant your trees where they may be well drained and where the -soil beneath their tap-roots is a good clay, overlaid of course with the -all-pervading Florida sand, they will love you for it. Care and -fertilizer will do the rest, though even then it must be the right kind -of care and of fertilizer. If you plant your trees where there is a -“hard-pan bottom” neither love, money nor religion will bring them to -good bearing. Why “hard-pan” which seems to be a dense stratum of black -sulphuret of iron should be under the surface of one man’s ten-acre lot, -while under that of his next-door neighbor lies the beloved red clay, it -is difficult to explain. Florida reminds me always of Cape Cod. It seems -to be built out of the chips and dust of the making of the near-by -continent, dumped irrelevantly. There is no telling why one acre is a -desert that one would plough as uselessly as Ulysses ploughed the -seashore and the next acre is fat with fertility, but it is so.</p> - -<p>Hence people plant grapefruit groves not where they will, but where they -may, and you discover them in the most delightful out-of-the-way</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_029" style="width: 555px;"> -<a href="images/i029_page198.jpg"> -<img src="images/i029_page198.jpg" width="555" height="390" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The tree is lavish to its friends and will produce fruit -almost beyond belief<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">places. Paddling up river one day, ten miles from any habitation, along -a stretch of profuse tropical forest, I heard the cluck of axle-boxes -and a voice said “whoa!” Landing I found that the wilderness was but a -sham, a thin curtain of verdure, and behind it was a stretch of fertile -land covered by grapefruit trees in orderly procession, twenty-four feet -apart each way, twelve hundred of them. This man must cart his fruit -through ten miles of sandy barrens to the train. He might have set his -trees along the railroad so far as cost of land was concerned, but they -would not have grown there.</p> - -<p>Once a week there comes into Fort Pierce a team of eight runt oxen, bred -of Florida range cattle stock, drawing a creaking wain laden down with -orange and grapefruit boxes. Thirty miles across the barrens these have -come, from groves out at Fort Drum, and they will take a load of -groceries and provisions back. It takes six days to make the round trip -and you may hear the team long before you see it. The man who drives -these oxen carries a whipstock as tall as himself with a lash twice its -length, long enough to reach the leading off ox from a position on the -nigh side of the cart. On the end of this lash is a snapper which gives -off a noise like that of a pistol. Hence the Florida woodsman is called -a “cracker,” a name which has come to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span> be applied indiscriminately to -all natives, whether drivers of oxen or not. Thus do we carelessly -corrupt language. The cracker is the man who cracks his whip. Wherever -the woodsman drives oxen you will hear it.</p> - -<p>You find these pretty groves thus scattered in the most picturesque -spots and just to wander in them is a delight. The fruit itself I -suspect to be an evolution from the shaddock, which is a huge, coarse -thing growing on what looks like an orange tree. Just as sometimes out -of a rough-natured human family is born some youngster of finer fiber -who is an artist or poet instead of clodhopper and we can none of us -tell why or how, so no doubt the grapefruit was born from some worthy -shaddock tree and astonished and perhaps dismayed its parents. All are -great globes of pale gold and surprise one with their size and -profusion. How does this close-fibered, tough-wooded tree find in sun -and soil the material to produce such fruit? Here is one ten years old -that holds by actual measurement twenty boxes, almost a ton, of fruit on -a tree that is about fifteen feet high and six inches in diameter at the -butt. It is as if a thumbling pear tree in a Northern garden should -suddenly take to producing pumpkins and bring forth twelve hundred of -them.</p> - -<p>On the Indian River it is the custom to let the</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_030" style="width: 600px;"> -<a href="images/i030_page200.jpg"> -<img src="images/i030_page200.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“Thirty miles across the barrens these have come, from -groves out at Fort Drum<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">fruit hang until mid-March when the blossoms appear with it, making a -grove a place of singular beauty. Out of the dense, deep green foliage -spring a hundred yellow glows, while all the outside of the tree is -stippled with a frippery of white, a dense green heaven set with golden -suns in crowded constellations and all one milky way of starry bloom. -The scent of these blooms, which is the scent of orange blossoms, -overpowers all other odors and carries miles on the brisk March winds.</p> - -<p>There are other creatures that love the groves as well as I do. The -mocking bird loves to pour his full-throated song from the tip of a -blooming spray, and when the fervid sun of late March pours the whole -world full of a resplendent heat which seems to lose its fierceness in -these golden suns of fruit, caught there, concentrated, and built into a -living fiber of delectability, he builds his nest in the crotch of some -favorite tree. Twigs and weed stalks roughly placed make its foundation -and outer defenses, the hollow being lined with silky or cottony fiber -from wayside weeds. There are so many pappus-bearing plants whose seeds -float freely that he may well have his choice, though if I were he I -should save labor by taking the thistledown from the ditch sides. Here -grow huge fellows whose heads of bloom, as big as my fist, set among -innumerable keen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span> spines can hardly wait to pass through the purple -stage before they turn yellowish and then white with thistledown. For -what else should these bloom if not for the lining of birds’ nests?</p> - -<p>The mocker reminds me so much of the catbird that I had thought to find -their eggs similar, but they are not. The catbird’s egg is a rich -greenish blue without a freckle; the mocking bird’s is a paler, and -blotched about the big end with cinnamon brown. When it comes to -æsthetic standards I suppose the catbird’s egg is the more beautiful, -but any boy will agree with me that the mocker’s egg with its wondrous -blotching is the prettier. The blotching on birds’ eggs is always a -wonder and a delight. I remember the awed ecstasy with which as a small -boy I looked upon the eggs of a sharp-shinned hawk, after having -perilously climbed a big pine in a lonely part of the forest to view -them. They were queer worlds most wondrously mapped with this same -cinnamon brown. In a pelican rookery not long ago I was greatly -disappointed that the huge eggs were merely a very pale, creamy or -bluish white with a chalky shell. The eggs of such masterpieces of bird -life ought to be equally picturesque.</p> - -<p>With the mocker in the groves is the Southern butcher bird. Just as at -first glimpse I am apt to mistake one bird for the other, so when I find -a mocking bird’s nest I am not sure but it is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span> butcher bird’s till I -have looked it over a bit. The butcher bird’s eggs are a little less -blue of ground color and have some smaller lavender spots mingled with -the cinnamon brown. The nests are lined more often with grasses than -with seed pappus. Outwardly they look the same and seem to be built in -similar places. The butcher bird is as friendly with man as is the -mocker. A neighbor of mine has an arching trellis of cherokee roses over -the walk from his back door to his packing house, and in the thorns of -this a butcher bird has a nest, though the place is a thoroughfare and -the nest almost within reach of one’s hand. The bird has a slender -little attempt at a song at this time of year which I do not find -altogether unmusical. Some naturalist or other has claimed that the -Southern butcher bird squeaks like the weather-vane on which he likes to -sit. I would be glad if all weather-vanes which squeak did it as -musically as this loggerhead shrike in nesting time. It is a thin but -pleasant little shrill whistle, which does not, however, go beyond a few -notes. Then the bird stops as if overcome with shyness, which he might -well be, singing in a mocking bird country.</p> - -<p>There is another bird of the groves which I love well, much to the -indignation of the owners, who pursue him with shot-guns. The Indian -River fruit growers are hospitable to a fault.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span> They will load you down -with fruit as many times as you come to their groves and beg you to come -again and get some more. But that is only if you are a featherless -biped. The little red-bellied woodpecker who comes to the grove for a -snack comes at the peril of his life. Little does he care for that, this -debonair juice-lifter. He comes with a flip and a jerk from the forests -over yonder, thirsty, no doubt. He lights on the biggest and ripest -grapefruit that he can find and sinks that trained bill to the hilt in -it almost with one motion. Within is a half-pint or so of the most -delectable liquid ever invented. The bird himself is not bigger than a -half-pint, the bulk of an English sparrow and a half, say, and how he -can absorb all the liquid refreshment in a grapefruit is more than I -know, but when he is done with it there is little left but the skin. The -number of drinks that a half dozen of these handsome little birds will -take in a day is surprising. It is no wonder the grower rises in his -wrath and comes forth with a shot-gun. But it is of little use. The -living wake the dead with copious potations of the same good liquor, and -the woods are full of mourners.</p> - -<p>I watched one of these raiders drink his fill the other day and then go -forth to a rather surprising adventure. After his drink he flew to the -border of the grove, there to sit for a while with fluffed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span> up feathers, -in that dreamy satisfaction that comes to all of us when full. It lasted -but a few moments, though, then he was ready for further adventures. On -the border of the grove stood a fifty-foot tall stub of a dead pine, its -sapwood shaking loose from the sound core of heartwood, but still -enveloping it. In this rotting sapwood are grubs innumerable for the -delectation of red-bellied woodpeckers who have drunk deep of grapefruit -wine, and to this stub my bibulous friend flew in wavering flight, and -with little croaks of contentment began to zigzag jerkily up and round -it, now and then poking lazily into cracks with his bill and pulling out -a mouthful. Thus he went on to within a few feet of the top. There he -got excited, rushed about as if he saw things. He gave little chirps of -alarm, put his bill rapidly into a crevice and drew it as rapidly out -again, ran round the stub top and dived at another crevice, then came -back, and with a frantic dig and scramble pulled out a six-inch snake, -which he threw over his left shoulder, whirling and wriggling to the -ground.</p> - -<p>It was a sure-enough snake, though of what variety I cannot say. I saw -him, and my own potations had not been deep or of the kind which -produces visions. I dare say he was a grub-eater himself and had worked -his way up through the interstices of the rotten sapwood without -realiz<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span>ing to what heights he had risen. The woodpecker was as surprised -as I was and dashed nervously about for some time. I hope it may serve -as a warning, but people who have the grapefruit habit are apt to be -slaves for life.</p> - -<p>Often tearing through the grove goes <i>Papilio ajax</i>. Why this vast haste -in such a place which invites us to linger and dream I do not know. He -looks like a green gleam, flying backwards, a bilious glimpse of -twinkling sea waves. The seeming backward motion is effective in saving -the life of more than one specimen, for it makes the creature a most -difficult one to net. I dare say the butcher birds and flycatchers have -the same trouble and it is a wise provision on the part of nature for -the continuation of the ajax line.</p> - -<p>He often vanishes against the green of the grove as if the working of a -sudden charm had conferred invisibility on the flier. This trait of -flying into a background and pulling the background in after it is -common to many butterflies, who thus prolong life when insect-eating -creatures are about. I had thought that <i>Papilio cresphontes</i> had none -of this power till one vanished before my very nose, seeming to become -one with a big yellow grapefruit, the grapefruit being the one. If I had -been a cresphontes-hunting dragonfly I should have given it up. By and -by I saw what had happened. Cresphontes had lighted<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span> on the yellow ball -and folded his wings. All his under side, wings, body and legs, was -clothed in a pale yellow fuzz that was like an invisible cloak when laid -against the smooth cheek of the fruit. Here was the butterfly’s refuge. -No wonder this butterfly haunts the grove. He is one of the largest of -the Papilio tribe, a wonderful black and yellow creature, the veritable -presiding fairy of the grapefruit groves.</p> - -<p>The fruit will soon be picked and the golden suns will disappear from -the deep green heaven. The white stardust of the milky way of blooms -will follow and the groves would be lonesome and colorless if it were -not for these great black and yellow butterflies which will flit about -them in increasing numbers all summer long. I like to think of them as -in their care, waiting my return in the time of full fruit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><br /> -<small>BUTTERFLIES OF THE INDIAN RIVER</small></h2> - -<p>Where the Bahamas vex the Gulf Stream so that the rich romance of its -violet blue is shoaled into an indignant green that is yet more lovely, -there is a grape-like bloom on both sea and sky. Standing on the islands -that bar the Indian River from the full tides, you may see this bloom -sweep in a purpling vapor from the sea up into a sapphire sky, which it -informs with an almost ruby iridescence at times. The gentle southeast -winds of mid-March have blown this bloom in from the sea and sky and -spread all the landscape of the southern East Coast with it, a pale -blue, smoke-like haze in whose aroma there is yet no pungency of smoke. -It is like the blue haze of Indian summer which often hangs the New -England hills with a violet indistinctness out of which all dreams might -well come true.</p> - -<p>The road down Indian River winds sandily along the bluff always -southward toward the sun. On your left hand you glimpse the blue river -with the island a haze of deep blue on the horizon. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span> is a dreamy -world to the eastward, full of wild life. In the shallows schools of -fishes flash their silvery sides to the sun. Herons wait, patient in the -knowledge that the river will serve their dinner. The Florida great blue -in all his six-foot magnificence flies with a croak of disapprobation -only when you come too near. Here are the smaller blue herons, in family -groups. <i>Ardea wardi</i> and <i>Ardea cœrulea</i> are fortunate in having no -plumes which are desired of courtesans, else would they, in spite of all -law, have been shot off the earth as have the snowy egrets which once -whitened the Florida savannas with beauty. Yet both are beautiful birds, -and the young of the smaller heron rival the egrets in whiteness. It is -rather singular that a bird that is pure white when young should, on -reaching full maturity, so change color as to be at first taken by -naturalists for another variety, yet such is the case.</p> - -<p>Further out in the shining river frolicsome mullet leap six feet in the -air, not as most fish do with a curving trajectory that brings them into -the water head first, but falling back broadside on the surface with a -spanking splash. Often a big fish will progress three times in the air -thus as if trying out the hop, skip, and a jump of athletic -competitions. Half a thousand feet out in the shallow water are the -spiles of abandoned docks. On these sit the cormorants, black and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span> -ungainly, motionless for hours in the steep of the sun, again plunging -for a fish and flopping back to the perch to be greeted by most amazing -grunts from their companions. Lone pelicans sit slumping down into mere -bunches of sleepy feathers with mighty bills laid across the top. You -see brown-back gulls fishing and above them soaring a big bald eagle, -ready to rob cormorant, gull or pelican with the cheerful -indiscrimination of the overlord.</p> - -<p>Such is the life that you glimpse through the open spaces as you fare -southward toward the sun. But much of the way the river is screened from -your view by dense growth of palmettos. In one spot a rubber tree has -twined its descending roots about a palmetto till it has crushed the -fibrous trunk to a debris of rotten wood and the roots have joined and -become a tree, the tree, while the palmetto that nourished it passes to -make the white sand fertile for the rootlets of the one-time parasite. -Here are hickory and shrubby magnolias and many forms of cactus. Some of -these climb the palmettos, vine-like, to spread the vivid scarlet of -their blossoms high among the fronds. These creeping cacti are like -creeping, thorny, jointed green snakes of a bad dream. The cherokee bean -sends out its crimson spikes of tube-like blooms from leafless stems, -roadside spurges show red involucres, and everywhere you</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_031" style="width: 332px;"> -<a href="images/i031_page210.jpg"> -<img src="images/i031_page210.jpg" width="332" height="548" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"> -<p>“A rubber tree twined its roots about a palmetto till it crushed -the trunk to a debris of rotten wood”</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">find the low-growing composite blooms of the plant which produces the -“Spanish needles,” seeds that are spear-like akenes to stab as you pass.</p> - -<p>The white petals of this composite flower are no whiter than the wings -of the great Southern white butterfly that delights in feeding on this -pretty, daisy-like blossom. As the summer comes on, myriads of Southern -white butterflies make the ridge their hostelry and the road southward -their highway. Already they make the road a place of snowflakes, -scurrying on March winds all hither and thither. They are as white as -snow in flight, the tiny marking of black on the margin of the primaries -serving only to accentuate the whiteness. So when they light and fold -the wings the greenish tint of the secondaries beneath is only that -reflected light which becomes green in some snow shadows. They serve to -make the day cool while yet the sun is fervid, and to walk toward it -even at a moderate pace is to perspire freely. Just as snowflakes during -a white storm scurry together in companionship and alight in groups -beneath some sheltering shrub, so toward nightfall when the level sun -just tops the ridge to the westward these Southern snowflakes dance -together and light in drifts beneath some overhanging shrub which -shelters them from the wind. There hundreds wait for the reviving warmth -of the next morning’s sun.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span></p> - -<p>Stranger than this is the passing of what seem marshaled hosts along -this Indian River road toward the south. The exceptional cold of the -winter has kept the imagos in chrysalid and the rush is not yet on. But -the time will come soon when each day uncountable millions will pass. -Whether this is continued westward into the interior of the State I -cannot say, nor do I know whence they come nor whither they go. Perhaps -some West Coast observer will be able to state whether this flight goes -to the south there or whether the vast numbers round the southern end of -the peninsula and go north again. Last November this same southern -movement was noticeable in the northern portion of the State, about -Jacksonville. In its aggregate it must reach a number of butterflies -which might well stagger the imagination. Butterflies fly easiest -against a gentle breeze. One attacked will go off down the wind at -express train speed, but as soon as his fright is over you will find him -beating to windward again. They hunt, both for food and for mates, by -scent. Therefore against the wind is their only logical course.</p> - -<p>The trade winds blow gently all summer long, and most of the time during -the winter, from the southeast. Hence the butterflies beating against it -come to the coast line and follow it down, swarming the Indian River -road with their</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_032" style="width: 597px;"> -<a href="images/i032_page212.jpg"> -<img src="images/i032_page212.jpg" width="597" height="398" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The river is screened from your view by dense growth of -palmettos<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">whiteness. What becomes of them all when they get into the lower end of -Dade County I cannot say.</p> - -<p>But if <i>Pieris monuste</i> and his kin of the Southern whites is most -conspicuous here because of numbers, there are a half-score other -beauties which will soon attract your attention. Of these the largest -are Papilios, the various varieties of swallowtail. Here is cresphontes, -fresh from some orange grove, as large as one’s hand, and of vivid -contrast in gold and yellow. To be watched for is his veritable twin -brother, <i>Papilio thoas</i>, just a little more widely banded with gold. -<i>Papilio thoas</i> feeds upon the orange and other citrus fruit leaves as -does cresphontes, but he is the butterfly of the hotter regions to the -south, where he replaces cresphontes. Occasionally he has been found in -the hot lands of Texas, why not in southern Florida? The thought gives a -new fillip to the interest with which I watch. The next turn in the road -may bring him. Time was when cresphontes was found only among the orange -groves of the Southern States. Steadily he has been extending his range -northward until specimens have been captured in the neighborhood of -Pittsburg, and one has since been reported from Ontario.</p> - -<p>Cresphontes and thoas are the largest and showiest of their tribe to be -found in the country. With them flitting as madly and erratically is -apt<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span> to be <i>Papilio asterias</i>, also a symphony in black and yellow, with -blue trimmings. The asterias is born of a grub that thrives on members -of the parsley family, and you may find his brilliant black and -greenish-yellow stripes on almost any carrot bed, North or South. Poke -him and he will most strangely put out two horns much like a moth’s -antennæ, from some concealed sheath in his head, and at the same time -produce a musky smell wherewith to confound you. Asterias ranges from -Maine to Florida in the summer time and westward to the Mississippi -River. I have found him nowhere more plentiful than here.</p> - -<p>In and out of the tangle of the thicket with asterias and cresphontes -pass two other Papilios, palamedes and troilus. Palamedes might be -described as a larger and more dignified asterias, being nearly the size -of cresphontes, but having wider spaces of clear black on the upper -sides of his wings. His grub feeds upon the laurels and <i>Magnolia -glauca</i>, and the butterfly has been known to visit southern New England -though his usual range is from Virginia south. You will easily know -palamedes from cresphontes, even on the wing, by the lack of yellow in -his coloring. Especially is this true of a glimpse from beneath. -Cresphontes rivals the sun in his gold when seen from below, palamedes -is dark beneath with the after wings as gorgeous as a peacock’s tail -with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span> crowded eye-spots of orange and blue. It is rather interesting to -note that, handsome as most butterflies are on the upper sides of their -wings the under sides far surpass these in gorgeousness, as a rule. I -have often wondered why.</p> - -<p>Last of the Papilios I have met on the ridge I note with satisfaction -good old <i>Papilio troilus</i> of Linnæus. There are many names with which -one conjures in the butterfly world,—Scudder, Holland, Edwards, Cramer, -Grote, Boisduval, Strecker, Stoll, Doubleday, and a score of others, but -none that so touches one’s heart as does that of the Father of Natural -History. To him came the beautiful things of the young world and -received their names, as the animals are fabled to have passed before -Adam and Eve. Surely none of the creatures that he named were more -beautiful than this butterfly. In him the flaunting yellows are not -found. Instead on the black foundation are spotted and stippled most -wonderful shades of peacock blue touched modestly with a spot of crimson -for each wing. Here is a fine restraint in coloring that shows harmony -rather than contrast and puts the more gaudily painted members of the -genus to shame. In the grub stage the favorite food of <i>Papilio troilus</i> -is the leaves of the sassafras and spicebush, food through which any -caterpillar might well grow into beauty and good taste.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span></p> - -<p>These big swallow-tail butterflies certainly add romance and beauty to -the road that leads sunward down the Indian River. At times, in certain -favored spots the air is full of their rich beauty, now hovering in your -very face, again dashing madly into the depths of the jungle or -vanishing in mid-air as all butterflies so well know how to do. In the -grub stage it is not difficult to know on just what they feed. In the -butterfly form I am satisfied that during the first few days after -emerging from the chrysalis they are so busy mating that they do not -find time to feed. At this stage they dash most wildly and nervously to -and fro, seeking always and never quiet for a moment. Later the mood -changes and you may find them clinging to some favorite flower so drunk -with honey and perfume that you may pick them off with the fingers.</p> - -<p>The world just now is full of orange blossoms and heavy with their odor. -The honey from their yellow hearts is to be had for the asking and the -bees are so busy that the trees fairly roar with the beat of their -wings. Yet if I were butterfly or bee I should pass the heavy-scented -groves for a flower which just now blooms profusely on the ridge. That -is the Carolina Laurel-Cherry, commonly called at the South, “mock -orange,” This has indeed a lance-ovate, glossy, deep green orange-like -leaf, but the bloom reminds me more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span> of that of the clethra. Like the -clethra too it has a most delectable perfume, dainty and sweet as -anything that grows in the South and far surpassing in light and -seductive aroma the heavy perfume of the groves. The odor of this shrub -floats like pleasant fancies all along the dusty ridge road and -continually wooes all that pass,—insects and men alike.</p> - -<p>Nor are the Papilios all the bright-winged butterflies of the ridge. -Here flies the zebra, his long, almost dragonfly-like wings rippled with -black and yellow bars that seem to flow over them as he flies like -dapple of sunlight on a black pool. The zebra is a lazy fellow. Compared -with most other butterflies he fairly saunters along. I fancy that if -one of those long-tailed skippers, or even one of the silver-spotted, -that both frequent the same groves, were to find him on their mad track -they would telescope him.</p> - -<p>The Papilios seem to be the butterflies of the higher air levels. You -are more apt to find the zebras flying head high and the skippers still -lower. Perhaps this usual difference of air strata is why those -collisions do not take place. Lower still, flitting among the very herbs -at your feet are other, beautiful if smaller, varieties. Out of the -shadows of the foliage come most awkwardly the spangled nymphs, pleased -with the sunlight, yet scared in a moment into fleeing awkwardly back<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span> -again. Of these I note commonest <i>Neonympha phocion</i>, the Georgian -satyr, singularly marked underneath with rough ovals of iron rust in -which are blue-pupiled eyes with a yellow iris. Here, too, is <i>Neonympha -eurytus</i>, as common North as South.</p> - -<p>There are many more butterflies that one may see in a day’s tramp down -river in this enchanted land. This day has left with me, as one most -vivid impression, the memory of a little patch of trailing blackberry -vines whose white blooms are larger and more rose-like than those of -Northern hillsides. Upon the patch had descended a snow squall of white -butterflies till you could not tell petals from wings, or if it was -flowers that took flight or butterflies that unfolded from the fragrant -buds. Other spots were dear with tiny forester moths, most fairy-like of -thumbnail creatures, the flutter of checkered black and white on their -wings making them most noticeable. Once out of the deep shade of the -thicket a painted bunting flew and lighted in full view, showing the -rich blue of his iridescent head and neck, the flashing green of his -back and wing coverts, the red of his under parts. I know of no other -bird whose colors are at once so gaudy and so harmonious. He was like a -flash of priceless jewels. No wonder he keeps these colors in the -shelter of the thickets as much as possible. The hawk<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span> that catches a -painted bunting must think he is about to dine on a diadem.</p> - -<p>So through all the vivid warmth of the long day flit these bright -creatures of the sun, and the mysterious bloom of tropic seas blows in -with the wind that sings in the palmettos. All tempt one to fare farther -and farther south in search of greater enchantment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><br /> -<small>ALLIGATORS AND WILD TURKEYS</small></h2> - -<p>Out in the wild country to the westward of the St. Lucie River the winds -of dawn mass fluffy cumulous clouds along the horizon, and the morning -sun tints these till it seems as if a vast golden fleece were piled -there to tempt westward faring argonauts. Thither I journeyed for nearly -a day, the slow trail ending in a land of enchantment fifteen miles -beyond the nearest outpost of civilization. Most of this trail led -through the dry prairie where short, wire grass grows among widely -scattered, slim pines, the slimness seeming to come rather from lack of -nourishment than youth, for the soil here is but a thin and barren sand. -Then the earth beneath us sank gently and the water rose till the good -sorrel horse was splashing to his knees in water that was crystal clear -and that deepened in spots till the hubs rolled on its surface. Schools -of tiny fishes darted away as we splashed on, bream and garfish, bass -and sea trout, spawned no doubt in some branch<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span> of the upper waters of -the river and venturing onward in companionable explorations wherever a -half-inch of water might let their agile bodies slip.</p> - -<p>We were on the border of “Little Cane Slough,” and we fared on -amphibiously thus some miles farther, coming at last to the country of -islands which was our destination. In the geology of things Florida was -once sea bottom, having been pushed up by a fold in the earth’s strata -which made the Appalachian mountain range. The giant force which raised -these mountains thousands of feet high was nearly spent when it came to -this part of the country and barely succeeded in getting the State above -high tide. Thus the waters subsiding slowly made no extensive erosion. -Yet they did their work and Little Cane Slough was once a river of salt -water flowing out of the surgent State. In its slow, broad passage, the -flood took some surface with it, leaving a bare, sandy bottom in the -main free from any hint of humus in which vegetation might grow. In -other spots it left the surface mud in higher islands of unexampled -fertility.</p> - -<p>Some of these islands are scarcely a hundred feet in diameter. Others -measure a half mile or so, but all to-day are covered with a dense -growth of vegetation from grass and shrubs to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span> mighty trees of many -varieties. Hence you have an enchanting mingling of shallow, clear -ponds, grassy and sedgy meadows and wooded islands, a country which all -wild creatures love. The place is marked on the map as a lake. There are -years and times of year when it is that, then drought reaches deep and -the only water you can find is in the alligator holes into which fish -and alligators both crowd till these tenement districts are much -congested.</p> - -<p>The sun which had started behind us in our westward race for the golden -fleece of cumulous clouds outdistanced us and sank to victory among -them, big and red with his running, but we camped on one of these -thousand islands. You may venture into haunts of the alligator without -fear. I doubt if there was ever a time when the largest of them would -attack a man, certainly the few that are left wild have a wholesome fear -of him and you must be stealthy of foot and quick of eye to even see -one.</p> - -<p>Twenty years ago fifteen footers promenaded from one deep hole to -another, and their broad paths, worn through the thin surface of -fertility, are left still, the grass not yet having found sufficient -foothold to obliterate them. Rarely does one make trips like that -to-day. They all stick too closely to their holes, and so cleverly are -these placed that a screen of bushes or rushes conceals</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_033" style="width: 598px;"> -<a href="images/i033_page222.jpg"> -<img src="images/i033_page222.jpg" width="598" height="395" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“My first glimpse came at one of these places<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">the saurian when he is up sunning himself, and he has but to plunge to -find safety.</p> - -<p>My first glimpse came at one of these places, a deep pool surrounded by -a growth of flags. Close beside this was a bushy island, and in one -corner of the island was a smaller pool not over a dozen feet in -diameter. Between the two, half screened by the bushes, lay Mister -Alligator enjoying a mid-afternoon nap, but a nap in which he slept with -one eyelid propped up. One gets so used to scaly monsters in the Florida -woods, rough trunks of scrub palmettos that continually simulate saurian -ugliness, that it took me a moment to see him, even when my companion -pointed him out. Surely there could be nothing of life in that inert -stub. But even as I looked there was a most prodigious scrambling of -clawed feet, a swish of a tail so big and husky that it seemed to wag -the alligator, and he was in with a plunge, not into the big pool as I -expected, but with a dive into the little one beneath the bushes, an -action that let me into one of the secrets of alligator housekeeping.</p> - -<p>A good part of that afternoon and pretty nearly all of the next day I -spent, with my companion, who has been intimate with alligators for many -years, in wading, often waist deep, in the sunny, clear, tepid water, -from one alligator hole to another, and in that way I learned much of -the real life of the beast. A grown alligator is a huge<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span> and -formidable-looking reptile, but so great a fear has he of man that you -have but to show yourself and say “Boo!” and he will make the water boil -in his frantic endeavors to escape. You may go swimming in his private -pool if you will and he will crowd down in the mud of its deepest hole -to escape you. Only when cornered and continually prodded will he show -fight. Then he may bite you with his big mouth or club you with his -bigger tail, but it will be only that he may get an opportunity to get -away. There is much interesting fiction about alligators that eat -pickaninnies or even grown-ups, but I do not believe it has any -foundation in fact.</p> - -<p>I found several alligators’ nests, big heaps of thin chopped reeds, -dried leaves and rubbish, in which in midsummer the eggs are laid, white -and with a tough, leathery skin, about as big as a hen’s eggs. Last -year’s eggshells still linger about these nests. The heat and steam of -the sub-tropical swamp hatches the eggs without further trouble on the -part of the mother. She, however, stays not far away and if you wish to -see her you have but to catch one of these lithe, wriggly youngsters -after they are hatched and pinch the tail. The squeak of pain will -usually bring a rush from the big one, though even then the sight of a -man is enough to send her back again in a hurry. The young alligators -are born</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_034" style="width: 592px;"> -<a href="images/i034_page224.jpg"> -<img src="images/i034_page224.jpg" width="592" height="377" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“The heat and steam of the sub-tropical swamp hatches the -eggs without further trouble<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">on the banks of the pool in which their mother lives, and they need to -be agile else their father will eat them. As for food, every alligator -hole that I have visited swarms with fish.</p> - -<p>Getting the sunlight just right on one of these alligator swimming pools -I have seen, besides great store of small fishes swimming about the -margin, hundreds of broad bream schooling in it, while bass and garfish -two feet long lay in the deeper parts. So far as fish go the alligator -need not go hungry. Often, too, he may get a duck or a heron, coming up -with a snap from beneath the surface before the bird has a chance to -rise from the water. I have seen a raccoon floundering and swimming in -the shallows, his diet no doubt mainly fish, and he himself liable to -capture by the alligator.</p> - -<p>But the inner domicile of the alligator is not in the big pool. It is in -the lesser one, and from this he has an entrance to a cave he has dug in -the earth far beneath the bushes. Often you may prod in this cave with a -fifteen-foot pole and not touch the reptile, so deep does it go. This is -his refuge, his hiding-place. In time of danger or in cool weather he -may lie at the bottom of it for days at a time. When he comes out again -it is most circumspectly. He floats craftily just to the surface and -lets his nostrils and his eyes, which are placed just right for this -feat, come above the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span> surface, while all the rest of him is submerged. -If you are familiar with alligators you may recognize these at a -considerable distance; if not you will surely think them floating bits -of bark or rubbish. Yet in time of low water this very refuge of the -animal is his undoing. The alligator hunter comes to the pool armed with -a long iron rod with which he jabs and prods till he finally drives his -quarry to the surface to his death. Sometimes this iron has a hook on -the end with which the reluctant beast is hauled out. Such hunting means -close quarters and is not without excitement.</p> - -<p>In times not long past, this sort of pot-hunting was much followed. Now -the hunter most often “jacks” for his game, paddling at night with a -bullseye lantern attached to the front of his hat like a miner’s lamp. -The beast in stupid curiosity watches the gleam of this light and the -hunter sees it reflected from his eyes. Curiously enough, you may see -this reflected glare well only when yourself wearing the lantern. You -may stand beside the man wearing it and never get the reflection, -however he turns his head. The reason for this, no doubt, is that the -eyes of the watching beast are focused on the light alone and hence send -its rays directly back. Now and then the jack-hunter grunts mysteriously -from deep within himself. This ventriloquism is supposed to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span> an -imitation of the call of a young alligator and is used to lure the old -one.</p> - -<p>But not for fish and alligators merely is this bewitching country of -islands set in the middle of Little Cane Slough. Here are innumerable -flocks of the Florida little blue heron, ranging in numbers from three -to fifty, wading and feeding mornings and evenings, resting at midday on -tops of dead stubs, where the young birds, still in white plumage, are -most conspicuous objects. The bald eagles that had ten bushels or so of -nest in a big pine just east of our camp must find these birds easy -game. Nor are the white youngsters, seemingly, unaware of this. Their -blue elders often sit hunched up, asleep, but these hold the head erect -and crane the neck this way and that, as if perpetually wondering whence -trouble might come. Among these birds I saw for the first time the -change of color from youth to maturity, from white to blue, going on. -There were birds in the flocks that had blue backs and wing coverts -while still white underneath.</p> - -<p>All about among these islands are well beaten trails of other creatures -than alligators. The range cattle make some of them, but not all. In -some you may see the duplex-pointed hoof-marks of deer. Some are -scratched out by the hurrying claws of raccoons. In many, along the -grassy edges I found the wide, dignified print of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span> king of wild -birds, the wild turkey. Long and stealthily I prowled these trails -hoping to come upon this majestic bird when feeding and thus see him at -his work, but in this I was unsuccessful. The turkey feeds mainly in -early forenoon and late afternoon, not leaving his perch as a rule till -the sun is above the horizon, lurking among the bushes on high ground -during the heat of the day, filling his crop again before sundown and -flying heavily to his roost before dark. Just now his food is mainly -succulent new grass with which he fills his crop until it will hold no -more, fairly swelling him up in front like a pouter pigeon. There were a -gobbler and two or three hens near-by—how near we were not to suspect -until later; but we saw only the trail of these, not a feather of them -did we glimpse, follow their tracks as we might.</p> - -<p>It was late in the afternoon and we were a mile and a half from camp -when we heard the first turkey voice. It was that of a lone gobbler and, -just by chance, we stopped knee-deep in the grassy lagoon on the margin -of an island which held his favorite roost, a limb of a big pine -standing among deciduous trees. To this, from the other side he came. No -doubt he had been picking grass on the other margin of the lagoon in -which we stood, now he was headed for home and calling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span></p> - -<p>At this time of year there are great battles between gobblers for -possession of hens. This gobbler seems to have been a defeated and -compulsory bachelor, yet he gobbled away as if a whole barnyard was at -his back, lifting his twenty-five pounds of live weight with rapid beats -of his short, strong wings from the ground to lower limbs, thence higher -and finally to his roost. Never yet, I believe, grew a more magnificent -gobbler than this one, scorned of the fair sex though he was. The level -sun shone upon his bronzed feathers till the radiance of their beauty -fairly dazzled, seeming to flash from him in molten rays as if from -burnished copper. He looked this way and that for those missing hens -that surely ought to be lured into following such radiance. He gobbled -to right and he gobbled to left in mingled defiance and entreaty, but -there was no reply. Then he strutted and displayed all his magnificence. -He spread the wide fan of his copper-red tail, drooped his wings till -they hung below the limb and puffed out all his feathers, silhouetted -against the pale rose of the sunset. Then he said “Pouf!” once or twice -in a half-hissing, sudden grunt that sounded as if it came from the -bunghole of an empty barrel. It had that sort of contemptuous hollow -ring to it. This he varied with gobbling for some time. If afterward he -put his head beneath his wing and forgot<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span> his loneliness in slumber I -cannot say, for the south Florida sun whirled suddenly beneath the -horizon and took his roses and gold with him. The night was upon us and -only the thinnest of new moons lighted our way in the long splash back -to camp.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><br /> -<small>EASTER TIME AT PALM BEACH</small></h2> - -<p>Man has set Palm Beach as a gem in a jungle, which is itself as -beautiful in its way as the nacre of the oyster in which we find the -pearl. The gem is cut and polished till all its facets and angles flash -forth not only their own brilliancy but the reflected glory of all -around them. These blaze upon you from afar and draw you with a promise -of all delights till you stand in their midst bewildered with them. The -beauty of the surrounding jungle you must learn little by little, for it -does not seek you, rather it withdraws and only subtly tempts. Yet when -you come away you do not know which to love most, the gem or its -setting. And all this you find upon a ribbon of island between the muddy -blue of Lake Worth and the unbelievable colors of the transparent sea -beyond. Unlimited resources of wealth have brought from the ends of the -earth tropical trees and shrubs and set them in bewildering profusion. -Wild nature in the setting, the landscape gardener in the gem, have done -it all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span></p> - -<p>Not so long has man been banished from Eden that he need feel lonesome -on returning. Here is the air that breathed over that place in the old -time floating in over the miraculous sea, seemingly transmuting its -swift-changing coloration into a symphony of perfume that now soothes in -dreamy languor and again stimulates to the delight of action. Bloom of -palm and of pine are in it and the smell of miles of pink and white -oleanders that grow by wayside paths. There, too, is the mingling of a -score of wee, wild scents from the jungle, and beneath it all the good, -salty aroma distilled by the fervent sun of late March from crisping -leagues of sapphire sea. It prompts you to breathe deep and long and -look about with proprietary gladness as Adam and Eve might could they -return for Old Home Week and tread again the well remembered primrose -paths.</p> - -<p>To appreciate fully this garden redivivus one must not dwell in its -midst too long. Had Eve been permitted to come only occasionally, there -had been no dallying with the serpent. I dare say those unfortunates who -reach the place in December and do not leave it until April get to look -upon its beauties with as lack-luster an eye as that with which the -home-tied New Yorker looks upon Fifth Avenue. I have known Bostonians to -pass the gilded dome of their State House, and go by way of the Common -and Public</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_035" style="width: 384px;"> -<a href="images/i035_page232.jpg"> -<img src="images/i035_page232.jpg" width="384" height="600" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“There, too, is the mingling of a score of wee, wild -scents from the jungle<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p>Garden through Copley Square into the Public Library without looking -about and expanding the chest. Such a condition does familiarity breed.</p> - -<p>There is a fortunate refuge from too much Eden at West Palm Beach. You -may on the outskirts of this now beautiful hamlet see how little aid the -earth may give in the building of a beauty spot. Here is the same -barren, sandy ridge which one learns to expect on his first progress -inland from any point on the East coast. Here grow rough-barked, dwarf -pines of small stature, all bent westward in regular arcs from root to -top as if yearning inland from their birth. Thus has the steady force of -the easterly trades inclined them. The everlasting saw palmetto grows -about their roots, and little else. Yet, so pervasive is the spirit of -good example that the West Palm Beachers, going back to their barren -land from across Lake Worth, have taken heart, and seeds and slips of -blossoming shrub and vine, have brought or made soil, one scarcely knows -whence or how, and made their West Palm Beach wilderness blossom in -miniature like the Palm Beach rose.</p> - -<p>Here are tiny fenced-in gardens all about little unpretentious houses, -gardens which are soft with turf underfoot, stately with palms overhead, -and all between bowered with purple bougain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span>villea and violet bohenia, -and passion vine and allamanda, almost, indeed, all the beauties of The -Garden over yonder. There is none of the stateliness that space alone -can give, but the shrubs and vines crowd lovingly together, till one -might well wonder if Adam and Eve did not plant something of this sort -just beyond the flash of that flaming sword and perhaps learn to love -the home they had found better than the Eden they had lost.</p> - -<p>You may, if you will, go westward still from this ridge and get into -another land of enchantment, the borderland of the Everglades. Here a -road winds from one saw-grass island to another across Clearwater Lake. -It is a region of marsh plants, of cat-tail and pipewort, of purple -bladderwort and wild grasses and sedges, where nestling blackbirds make -love with a boldness that might put the flower-margined walks of The -Garden to the blush, and where you may look into the wayside ditch and -see big-mouthed bass waving their square tails as they move leisurely -off into deeper water. To plunge from the barren ridge into the marsh -district is like going from the sackcloth and ashes of Lent into the -full awakening joy of Easter. Here the Florida wilderness itself marks -the season of the revival of life and joy, and with nothing more vividly -than the cypress.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_036" style="width: 412px;"> -<a href="images/i036_page234.jpg"> -<img src="images/i036_page234.jpg" width="412" height="577" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>The “traveler’s tree” in a Palm Beach garden</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span></p> - -<p>On the farther margin of Clearwater Lake the ground rises a bit into -cypress swamp. All winter these close-set, gnarled trees have held bare -and knotted, writhing arms to Heaven in mute repentance for misdeeds. -Gray Spanish moss alone has draped them, waving in the winds most -lugubriously. The water has been warm about their roots, the sun has -steeped them in its heat that has kept the water gay with bloom of -bladderwort and sagittaria and pickerel weed, yet the cypresses have -held aloft their sackcloth moss and stretched their arms skyward, -unforgiven, while the trade winds mumbled prayers in the gray gloom of -their twining limbs. Now—it seems all of a sudden—the richest and -softest drapery of green has hidden all their bareness as if they had -taken off the sackcloth and put on the joy of forgiveness and new life. -Spring green is always beautiful. It seems to me as if the cypresses -must have picked their shade from the softest and richest of colors that -soothe the eye in the shoaling sea outside. They are vivid indeed -against the rising land beyond, where flatwoods pines and saw palmetto -hold sway again in grim monotony.</p> - -<p>A day of this and you are ready again to pass the gateways and seek The -Garden with senses once again hungry for its delights. One’s self seems -to belong in this scheme which simulates<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span> the primitive joy of the -earlier, happier days of the world. Often one cannot be so sure of the -rest of mankind. The animal creation takes it as a matter of course. The -black and white “raft” ducks that are common on the Indian River, yet -fly before you get within gunshot of them, here in Lake Worth linger -boldly about the docks and hardly move aside for chugging motorboats. I -look daily for some fascinating descendant of Eve to call them up to eat -out of her hand. Why should they here fear a gun? Adam never had one. In -all my wanderings in palm-shaded walk and flower-scented jungle I saw no -predatory bird or beast. It is easy to fancy that the serpent was -banished with our first parents. Tiny lizards only, dash like scurrying -brown flashes along the hot sand from one thicket to another in the -denser part of the tangles of wild growth. A thousand glittering -dragonfly fays flit on silver wings along the paths which the -blue-throated, scurrying swifts cross.</p> - -<p>Benevolent Afreets frequent The Garden and the jungle path at all -points. In the days of Haroun-al-Raschid these used to gather princes up -in mantles and bear them noiselessly from point to point. Here the -mantle has become a wicker-basket wheel-chair, but the Afreets are in -the business still and all along paths you see them passing, silently -bearing one or two passengers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span> A dollar wish will bring a bronze -magician to your service for an hour and you glide majestically on air -the while. You may be irreverent of tradition if you will and dub the -Afreet and his conveyance an Afromobile, and say the air on which you -glide majestically is but so much as is included in the inner tube of -pneumatic tires, but the effect is the same.</p> - -<p>But man! the sentence of banishment must still be heavy upon him, for he -seems to me to tread The Garden somewhat fearfully, his glance over his -shoulder expectant of another writ of ejectment. Often he pokes about -with a grim solemnity which is much at variance with the laughing face -of all nature. Very likely these are the newcomers who have not yet -learned that from Paradise are barred all vengeful spirits. Man has been -out so long that the habit of watchfulness and distrust is not to be -lost in a day. You see none of this on the faces of children. They are -from Paradise too recently to have forgotten.</p> - -<p>Over on the bathing beach where beryl waves break on the amber sand -these children play like fluffy sprites of foam blown inland from the -spent waves, as much a part of the place as the fleets of rainbow-tinted -nautilus that have made port on the same sands. Youth too belongs. -Stretched in the shadow of a boat lie two, as lithe and keen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span> of outline -as the sea gulls that swoop outside the line of breakers, they two a -part of Paradise, soothed into immobility with the gentle spell of the -place, reminding one for a fleeting moment of a paragraph from “Ben -Hur.” Yet the throng which must represent Mankind, with a capital M, -melts in no such harmonious way into the symphony of sea and sky. These -old ones have been away too long to fit into the place when they come -back. Shorn of the world glamour of the tailor and haberdasher, the -hall-marks of pelf and power, they are as grotesque as the satyrs of the -time of Pan might be. Here is incongruity personified. Fingy Conners in -fluffy ruffles and tights, Fairbanks in fleshings, or if not these some -others just as good, go down to the sea in skips, and the breakers roar.</p> - -<p>It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of picturesque adventure on -the place. Here are the bold beach-combers of the tropic world come to -add storm-tossed beauty to The Garden. The cocoanut is the adventurer of -all seas, born of salt and sand on the wave-worn shore it matures, clad -in a brown, elastic, water-defying husk that will bear its live germ -whithersoever the waters will take it. The storms that tear it from the -yielding stem and toss it in the brine send it on through scud and spin -drift, to currents that drift lazily to all shores. The breakers that -roll it up</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_037" style="width: 600px;"> -<a href="images/i037_page238.jpg"> -<img src="images/i037_page238.jpg" width="600" height="263" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“It is the cocoanut palms that put the touch of -picturesque adventure on the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">the beach and bury it under driftwood are but planting it, and when in -its own good time it germinates the tough fiber of its endogenous stem -defies all but the fiercest hurricane. Here at maturity it will bear two -hundred nuts a year to adventure further on all tides.</p> - -<p>It is these trees that give the place its rightful name. They spring in -stately, swaying rows along all the shore. They line the paths on either -side with the gray columns of their trunks. The mighty fronds touch -above your head and make swaying shadows on the way, as the leaves -rustle in the easterly trades and the rich nuts fall to the ground for -all. As Adam may have done, so you may do, pick the ripe fruit from the -ground, beat the husk from it, bore a hole in the one soft spot at the -stem end and drink the cool and delicious milk for your refreshment. -Thousands of these nuts lie on the ground ungarnered save by the thirsty -passer. Seed time and harvest are one with them and young fruit, -acorn-like in size and appearance, grows at the same time that the ripe -nuts are falling. You may find any size between at any time.</p> - -<p>The cocoanut trees are beautiful, picturesque and romantic. You might -well call them stately, yet there is a touch of the swashbuckler about -each that forbids you to call them dignified. They should be the patron -tree of buccaneers and wild<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span> sea rovers, and one cannot look upon them -without peopling the strand beneath them with such gentry. The lawless, -sea-roving life of the South Seas is theirs as it was that of Bluebeard -and Teach and Morgan and Pizarro. They add to Eden a spice of -dare-deviltry that makes it doubly dear.</p> - -<p>Far different are the royal palms, the trees of kings’ courtyards. I saw -but four of these in The Garden. They stood apart, erect columns as -smooth as if built out of gray masonry for fifty feet in height. You -would sooner think this smooth but unpolished gray granite than wood. -Miraculously from the top of this stone column, which swells outward as -it progresses upward, then recedes as slightly, grows a green stem for a -distance of a fathom, from the top of which spread the majestic, leafy -fronds. Such columns should grace the stone palaces of the Pharaohs. So -stately and impressive are these that I never see them but I fancy that -they stood thus as pillars to the gateway by which stood the angel with -the flaming sword, while our first parents fled with averted faces, -outward.</p> - -<p>At Easter time The Garden blossomed with white stems of femininity, -bearing aloft Easter flowers of gorgeous millinery. The violet of -bohenia blooms, the purple of bougainvillea, the soft pink and pure -white of blooming oleanders were<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">{241}</a></span> all outdone and the butterfly-like -flowers of hibiscus nodded and poised unnoticed as these passed by. Yet -I saw three things outside The Garden that typified Easter to me with -far more potentiality than these. One was the green of repentant -cypresses in the gray swamp at the back of Clearwater Lake. Another was -a cactus in the jungle on the outer rim of The Garden. Here was a -stubborn thing, its oval, dusty, lifeless joints hideous with thorns. -Seemingly nothing could give this thing life or beauty. It stood in arid -sand, and rough, dusty ridges to seaward shut off even the reviving, -purifying winds. Yet the time came and out of the very thorns sprang a -wondrous, yellow bloom of satiny-cupped petals that was more lovely than -any flower of sweetest wood in any rose garden in the world. Butterfly -and bee that had so long passed by came to this and caressed it, nor -could anyone remember the thorns or the hideous crooked joints for love -of the beauty of this Easter bloom.</p> - -<p>Best of all I remember, over in the flatwoods, a young, long-leaf pine -that had for a week been growing altar candles for the season as is the -way of such trees. Only this tree in its love could not stop there. From -every spike it grew on the right and the left exultant buds that made of -each candle a little cross of pale bloom, lighting the little lonely -tree in the level waste with a glorifica<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">{242}</a></span>tion and chaste beauty that -made the worshipful onlooker forget all else. Nor in The Garden, nor in -churches, nor even in the hearts of men has there grown, I believe, a -lovelier or more acceptable Easter offering.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><br /> -<small>INTO THE MIRACULOUS SEA</small></h2> - -<p>Flying southward by rail from Palm Beach one immediately leaves behind -tropical gardens and enters semi-arid wastes. The contrast is most -vivid. The traveler feels like Es-Sindibad of old who thus was -transported by magic, or perchance by an Afreet or the talons of a roc, -from king’s gardens to deserts, and anon back again. The dream of -yesterday was of stately palms, of richly massed foliage plants, of -broad-petaled flowers tiptoeing for a butterfly flight, of softly -perfumed breezes and man and maid in rich garments wandering joyously -among it all. The reality of to-day is sand and saw palmetto and dreary -wind-bowed, stunted pines, and dust and desolation.</p> - -<p>Only by thus plunging back into bleakness can you realize what man and -climate have done, working together, to redeem the wilderness from -itself. By and by the arid levels of sand change to equally arid levels -of rock. The coral formation which is the backbone of lowest Florida -here rises to the surface, showing everywhere in mi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">{244}</a></span>nute, multitudinous, -interlacing mountain ranges of gray that snarl the surface with ridges -and peaks a foot high, entwining craters a foot in diameter. In the -craters only is soil and in these grow tired and dusty saw palmettos. -The railroad builders, seeking earth to put about the ties, have scooped -the dirt out of these near-by craters, leaving the surface pitted with -their yawning mouths till, looking down upon it at the stations, one is -reminded of the moon’s surface as seen through a good-sized telescope.</p> - -<p>I say stations. These imply man, and here you find him, working in his -own small, patient way with the climate for the redemption of the land. -It may be that new gardens like those of Palm Beach are to be “wrested -from the stubborn glebe” here and eventually make the wilderness blossom -like the rose, with it. Certainly such gardening is done by main -strength. Dynamite and sledge and pick are the tools and vast walls of -rock surround such acreage as is partially subdued. They plant orange -trees by blowing out a hole with dynamite, filling it in again with such -soil as may be purloined from potholes and setting the young tree in the -middle.</p> - -<p>What these trees are going to do when their roots fill these submerged -flower pots and clamor for more soil I cannot say. The country is very -young yet and may solve its own problems as it</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_038" style="width: 592px;"> -<a href="images/i038_page244.jpg"> -<img src="images/i038_page244.jpg" width="592" height="380" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Into the miraculous sea</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">{245}</a></span></p> - -<p class="nind">goes along. Between the ribs in this bony structure of the State lie -little parallels here and there of real soil. Here again is man at work. -He plants these tiny prairies with tomatoes, peppers, egg plants and -other tropical vegetables in the dead of winter, whispering, I have no -doubt, many prayers to his patron saint for luck. If his prayers are -answered his harvest is bountiful and his reward great. Great also is -his risk. Winter frosts may nip his budding vines and hopes, winter -flood may drown them in the saucer-like prairies; and even the -summer-like climate may be his bane, tropic thunder showers sometimes -bringing hail which beats his garden to a frazzle and leaves it for -hours under an inch or two of noduled ice.</p> - -<p>The courage of the pioneer is proverbial. It seems to me that of the -Dade County pioneer ranks as high as any. His land may some day be -beautiful. To-day it is the stretch of purgatory which lies between one -paradise and another, for through it one passes from Palm Beach down -into the miraculous sea.</p> - -<p>Even as far north as the play garden of the money gods you have wide -glimpses of the miracle. There are days at Palm Beach when the sea is -simply the sea as one may know it at Atlantic Beach or Nantasket, -magical and mysterious always but lighted by no miraculous inner fires.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246">{246}</a></span> -Again there come times of tide and sun when a wonder of color wells up -from its depths, when it amazes with inner glows of gold and green and -azure, and fires the skyline with smoky purples. Their subtle beauty -lingers with you long after other impressions of the place have passed, -a memory that is a promise of delight, the lure which the Gulf Stream -scatters far toward the cold waters of the North. Circe has all who see -it within the slender, elastic bonds of her magic and the lure of it -will never be withdrawn. He who with seeing eyes has known the call must -some day come back to the very source, or die dreaming of what it must -be.</p> - -<p>You get the first look at this as your train slides off the mainland -onto the first key and it flashes upon you again and again as you pass -from one islet to the next or roar by some tiny bay where cocoanut palms -lean over waters for the describing of which language has yet no fit -words. Someone has said that in the building of North America all the -chips and dust left over were dumped off shore and thus Florida was -made. If so the sea which bathes its southernmost tip of coral islands -must surely be formed from the dust of all gems that have been put into -the ground for mines since the world was first conceived.</p> - -<p>Here by the very railroad is a shallow lagoon, dredged out by the -builders for all I know, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247">{247}</a></span> color is the semi-opaque, -semi-translucent white of pearls. Another has no hint of these gems of -the sea but is a deep topaz. Anon the free tides wash the embankment -with waves of mother-of-pearl that leap from shallows of a blue so soft -and pure that to look upon it is to cry out with happiness. The heaven -of poets and founders of loving creeds can have no purer hue than this. -Beyond again the sea deepens through shining purples into sudden shoals -of emerald and jade, that bar it from the distant stretch of the horizon -where the depth and richness of the violet blue are a joy that is half a -pain so deeply does it stir the soul.</p> - -<p>I have said this sea is made of dust of all gems. It is more than that. -It is as if it were steeped with all dreams of purity and nobility, all -holy desires and longings unutterable, here made visible to the eye of -man in miracles of translucent color. The memory of it stays with you as -does the memory of music that has stirred the soul to such happiness and -dear desires that the eyes are wet with wistful tears at the thought.</p> - -<p>The eye finds the land of the keys little but a repetition of the dusty -purgatory through which the train has brought him to the place of -dreams. The rock-ribbed foundation is the same, though the vegetation is -more luxuriant and varied. The palmettos seem to give up the struggle to -main<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248">{248}</a></span>tain a hold upon the slender soil as you swing in bird-like flight -from islet to islet, and to be replaced in part anyway by the -slender-stemmed silver palm, which looks a bit like a spindling scion of -a noble race. The red wood of the royal poinciana trees is everywhere -visible, and these in the blooming season make the favored spots a flame -of crimson fire. Beneath is a wild tangle of shrubbery, whose components -are hardly to be differentiated in passing. Where clear beaches of coral -strand rim round some opalescent bay the cocoanut palms feather the -ground with shadowy fronds.</p> - -<p>Along the side of the railway are to be seen the tall palm-like stems of -the West Indian papaw, and one can but think that the negro laborers who -made the grade have planted the seeds of the well-loved fruit, so -regular and persistent are these rows, which stand up like grotesque -telegraph poles along this railroad which, as we flee onward from key to -key, more and more impresses one with the might of a dominating idea.</p> - -<p>At the water-gaps in the flood of color are dredges and pile-drivers -sturdily repairing the destruction which the West India hurricane of the -previous autumn wrought on these seemingly indestructible foundations. -Where the two miles and more of concrete viaduct is expected one finds -the train running gingerly on piling and marl</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_039" style="width: 588px;"> -<a href="images/i039_page248.jpg"> -<img src="images/i039_page248.jpg" width="588" height="370" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“By and by the road leaves the embankment and winds -totteringly out on piling<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249">{249}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">refilling, the supposed everlasting foundation having been ripped out in -a night by the wind and sea. Men cling like birds to slender staging or -insecure foothold, swaying to one side to let the train pass, then -swaying back again to go on with their work. Through the piling beneath -race the sapphire tides, and to lose hold for a moment is to be drowned -in a suffocating transparency of miraculous color.</p> - -<p>A lean, knob-muscled navvy, who has been half-comatose, slumped in an -awkward heap in his seat, rouses to the hail of these men as we pass, -and becomes excited over the work. He explains that he has been in the -hospital for five months, and is just on his way back to the job. The -hurricane took his tent from over his head while he was eating his -dinner, picked him up bodily and hurled him against a pile of railroad -iron, breaking a leg and other bones. Some of his fellow-workers -suffered similarly, some disappeared utterly, drowned in the -opalescence, such toll does the sea take when man penetrates her -mysteries too boldly with his puny strength.</p> - -<p>Yet if man’s strength is puny his mind is bold, daring as the sea -itself, and one appreciates that as the train spins on. By and by the -road leaves the embankment and winds totteringly out on piling, far into -the very sea itself, while above loom mighty concrete buttresses -carrying a bridging of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250">{250}</a></span> railroad iron on steel trestles. A little later -it crawls beneath these trestles in the mighty space between two -buttresses and as one holds his breath in suspense comes to a stop on a -dock at the western tip of Knight’s Key. Beyond that the railroad in the -sea is still in a measure fluent in the minds of its originators and -builders, not having fully crystallized in concrete and iron. You sail -thence four hours or more over the miraculous water, viewing as you go -the fragments of this labor of titans slowly growing along key after -key, waiting yet to be fully pieced together, till you make port beneath -the friendly harbor lights of Key West.</p> - -<p>The cleansing tides and the east winds which surge perpetually over the -island keep the city of twenty thousand inhabitants serenely healthy on -Key West, without wells or sewers, paving or street cleaning. Walking -along the dusty streets where shack-like wooden houses are piled -together in that good-natured confusion which marks the usual West -Indian town, one does not go far without having a sudden impulse to -shout with delight, for soon all roads lead to the verge of the island, -the rich, soothing breath of the trade winds and a glimpse of the -miraculous sea. You may come upon this sight as often as you will, you -will never get over the sudden stab of the delight of it.</p> - -<p>If environment is the matrix of beauty the</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_040" style="width: 592px;"> -<a href="images/i040_page250.jpg"> -<img src="images/i040_page250.jpg" width="592" height="386" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>“As one holds his breath in suspense the road comes to a -stop at the western tip of Knight’s Key<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251">{251}</a></span>”</p></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">inhabitants of this favored isle should in time rival the gods and -goddesses of mythology. That they do not is probably because not enough -generations have succeeded each other in these surroundings. The -creatures that have been longer and more intimately born of these coral -keys in this bewildering sea have caught its colors. You have but to go -down to the docks to see that. Here the local fishermen bring in out of -the surrounding tides fishes as rainbow-hued as the waters from which -they are taken.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the commonest fish of the Key West docks is the common “grunt,” -a variety which seems to correspond in habits and size with our Northern -cunner or salt water perch. As “hog and hominy” is derisively said to be -the mainstay diet of the Florida “cracker,” so “grits and grunts” is the -favorite food of the Key West “conch.” Yet look at the amazing little -fish! His gaping mouth is orange yellow within, his tail the same color. -His main color is light blue traversed with narrow lines of brassy spots -mingled with olive. Beneath he is white. His back is bronze and a dozen -bright blue lines on his head are separated by broad, brassy marks. Here -is the amberjack, as long as your arm, a vivid silver with amber tints -and a gilt band from his eye to his caudal fin. Here is the angel fish, -named as well I fancy for his coloring as his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252">{252}</a></span> shape, which latter is -much that of a conventionalized, flat angel with fins which somewhat -humorously represent long folded wings.</p> - -<p>If you will go to the docks you may look over the edge and see big, -semi-submerged boxes containing scores of these swimming freely, waiting -for the call to go up higher. This too is a blue fish with broad yellow -margins to the scales, making a scheme of color as a whole that is quite -as miraculous to the Northern eye as the sea from which it is taken. It -is as if the wonderful blues and greens and sapphires of gem-like -transparency which the sea suggests, though it is a thousand times more -beautiful than these can ever be, had been by long years of association -transmitted to the fishes which swim about in it.</p> - -<p>But the one vast, continuing marvel is the sea itself. Never for one -hour of the day is the magic of its coloring alike; always each new -phase is more wonderful than the last. Within its heart of mystery are -continually born new dreams that pulse in nascent beauty to the rhythm -of its tides, quivering to the mind of him who looks upon them with all -fond longings and the bliss of noble desires. He who is privileged to -see it must be base indeed if it does not call some answering glow from -within him.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_041" style="width: 540px;"> -<a href="images/i041_page252.jpg"> -<img src="images/i041_page252.jpg" width="540" height="384" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>Gathering turtle’s eggs on a Florida beach</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253">{253}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><br /> -<small>DOWN THE ST. JOHNS</small></h2> - -<p>The everglades, which on the later maps of Florida are concentrated in -the southern tip of the peninsula, there hardly conceded to extend as -far north as Lake Okeechobee, as a matter of fact do flow in certain -favored localities much farther north, well into the middle of the -State. Up through St. Lucie and Osceola counties run one “slough” after -another, wide depressions which in any but the driest weather are -shallow, sand-bottomed lakes filled with numerous and beautiful wooded -islands.</p> - -<p>In the driest of weather these are deserts of white sand with tiny ponds -innumerable all about in them, alive with concentrated schools of fish. -It takes long drought to make this condition. A single good rain will -set the fish free to roam clear water for mile on mile, and where before -the rain the alligator hunter walked dry shod, afterward he must wade, -knee deep or waist deep as the case may be. In the height of the rainy -season, say in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254">{254}</a></span> July, I believe a man could make his way in a canoe up -the St. Johns and on without touching bottom till he slid off the lower -end of Dade County, having traversed the entire peninsula by water. He -would, of course, have to know his way, as probably no man now knows it, -but I believe the water is there. A good part of all Florida, in fact, -emerges in the dry season, which is the winter, and submerges for the -rest of the year. You may hoe your garden in January and row it in July, -raising tomatoes in one season and trout in the other.</p> - -<p>There is a project on foot which glibly promises to drain the -everglades. Several dredges are lustily digging ditches through which -this flood water is supposed to drain rapidly off some thousand square -miles of level, clay-bottomed sand. To look at these tiny machines -merrily at work on one hand and the area of water they attack on the -other is to smile once more at the Atlantic Ocean, Mrs. Partington and -her mop.</p> - -<p>So the St. Johns River, the one large river of the State, rising on the -map as it does in Sawgrass Lake, on the lower edge of Brevard County, -not a dozen miles from the East Coast and the Indian River, really draws -its water, during a part of the year at least, from the everglades -themselves. In that it is to be congratulated, for the water of the -everglades is beautifully clear<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255">{255}</a></span> and pure. There are bogs and mud in the -everglades, to be sure, but in the main their water falls straight from -heaven and is caught and held in shallows of white sand that might well -be the envy of a reservoir of city drinking water. The little city of -West Palm Beach draws its water from one of these shallow everglade -reservoirs, and has thus an inexhaustible supply, which analysts have -pronounced pure and wholesome.</p> - -<p>But if the lake bottoms of southern Florida are thus pure and send only -clear water down the St. Johns, the condition of clarity does not last -long. The St. Johns, as the tourist knows it, from Sanford to -Jacksonville, is a dark and muddy stream that winds through an -interminable succession of swamps, miry and forbidding at the surface, -but brilliant above with foliage, flowers and strange birds and beasts. -Beyond these swamps are higher ground and many pretty villages, groves -and farms, but one sees little of this from the river. Except for the -occasional landing, the occasional razorbacks and range cattle, one -might as well be coming down the stream in the days before Florida knew -the white man, and the river’s only boats were the narrow, artistic -dugouts of the Seminoles, built by fire and hatchet from a single -cypress log.</p> - -<p>Through the energy of many bold real estate men and many patient -gardeners Sanford is rap<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256">{256}</a></span>idly becoming known to the world as “The Celery -City,” a title once held alone by Kalamazoo, Michigan, though it might -well have been disputed by Arlington, Massachusetts. If you travel back -and forth enough in Florida you can come to know certain spots in it, -spots favored or otherwise, by their odors, also favored or otherwise. I -know haunts in the upper part of the State toward which the fond, free -scent of jasmine will lure you through many a sunny mile of stately, -long-leaved pines, themselves giving forth a resinous aroma for a solid -foundation on which the airy jasmine scent is built.</p> - -<p>Farther south where the jasmine hardly dares the beat of the summer sun -the orange groves send out messengers that beguile you through long -distances in the same way. None of these calls you to Sanford. There the -homely fragrance of crushed celery leaves drowns all else and salutes -your appreciating nostrils from afar. I am told that Sanford people -carry these odorous bunches of translucent golden-green beauty at -weddings just as other, custom-bound folk carry bride roses, but I think -the tale is persiflage. Certainly you have but to step from the train -there in April to be accosted by a demure and smiling young woman who -says, “Won’t you try some of our celery?” holding up a tempting stalk or -two, “We grow celery here and we are very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257">{257}</a></span> proud of it. We want all -strangers to taste it and see how good it is.”</p> - -<p>This is an excellent custom, both for Sanford and the strangers. I have -been to places in the North where mine host, who produced verses, always -proffered me these, to read or to hear, soon after my arrival. I much -prefer Sanford.</p> - -<p>Aside from its celery, which should be glory enough, one of Sanford’s -other claims to fame is that it is at the head of steamship navigation -on the St. Johns. Here you embark on an amber-watered lake which is but -the river, grown wide and lazy for a time. If you were to ask me for -Florida’s most astounding characteristic I might hesitate, but I should -eventually decide that it was the great number of fish which frequent -its shallow waters. Looking from the Sanford dock as you go down to -embark you see the sunny shallows full of schools of bream and in the -deeper places, much bigger and a little more wary, other schools of -“trout,” as the Floridians insist on calling the big-mouthed bass which -swarm in all fresh waters. Farther down stream you may amuse yourself -with watching the big silver mullet which here seem to teem in all -brackish waters, leaping, sometimes five or six feet in air, then -falling back with a resounding splash in the wave as if they like the -spank of the water on their scaly sides.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_258" id="page_258">{258}</a></span></p> - -<p>To name all that one sees on an April day while the boat surges round -the curves of the lazy river might well be to write a catalogue of the -commoner wild things of Florida, and a good many of those not so common. -The paddle wheels suck the water from in front of the boat and the tide -there falls a foot or two in a minute, for a minute. Then the hill of -water thus heaped up behind rushes in again to fill the hollow and makes -a miniature tidal wave. Creatures of the shallows are thus suddenly -bared and again as suddenly flooded to fright and a hasty escape. The -big Florida blue herons, standing in immobile alertness on the brink, -are less alarmed at the approach of the steamer than by this fidgeting -of the tides. If you will watch ahead you will often see one of these -great stately birds bend his head and stand in astonishment at this -falling off, then as the leaping wave splashes him give a croak of -terror and flap rapidly away into the woods, to light in a big cypress, -now all feathery green with new spring foliage, and stab the air this -way and that with his keen beak, not knowing which way further to flee.</p> - -<p>The fish crows, who have little fear of anything, croak humorously to -one another at this. Having a frog in the throat so often has got into -the fish crow’s voice and made his croak catarrhal, but nothing can take -away his sense of humor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259">{259}</a></span> which always sounds through his talk. I notice -behind the St. Johns River steamers the fish crows playing the part of -gulls, following in the vessel’s wake and hovering to daintily pick -refuse from the dangerous waves. The gull lights and feeds; the fish -crow is ruined if the water reaches his wings, but he hovers perilously -near the troubled surface and picks out his morsels, just the same, with -plunging beak. <i>Corvus ossifragus</i> is courageous as well as humorous. In -my first acquaintance with him I was inclined to hold him in light -esteem, as a weakling and a trifler compared with his bigger, more -saturnine relative, <i>Corvus americana</i>, but he wears well if he is -light-minded.</p> - -<p>I had come to think that all the large alligators left in Florida were -in captivity, where, tame and most wooden in appearance, they dream -their lives away. Yet in mid-afternoon, roaring down the St. Johns on -this river steamer I came upon the finest specimen that I have seen -anywhere. As the steamer shouldered by a bush-lined bank the negro -helmsman leaned far out of the pilot house, yelling and pointing. “Hi!” -he said, “look at dat big ol’ ’gator.” Right on the bank facing us he -lay, black, knobby and ugly as sin, his only retreat the water in which -the paddle wheel was thrashing within a dozen feet of his nose.</p> - -<p>Then indeed I saw one alligator that was like the old-timers that used -to line the river in fa<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260">{260}</a></span>vored spots. They said he was twelve feet long. -He surely was ten, and active. Wakened from his siesta in the scorching -April sun he glared at us with very evil eyes, opened his big mouth, -showing stout, yellow teeth, and plunged right down the bank at us, -going in with a great splash. Alligators are said to have a great fear -of man and it is commonly reported that you may bathe in their swimming -pools in the utmost safety, even at dinner time after a fast day. That -may be. I know this big, old, black one looked as if he ate river -steamers for luncheon and came down the bank as if he were about to do -it. However nothing happened to prove it. Later on we saw another one, -not quite as large, lying asleep on the bank. His stomach was greatly -distended and he did not even wake up as we passed. I fancy he had just -finished his steamer and was too full of it and contentment to bother -about us.</p> - -<p>A prettier sight by far as the steamer rounded another curve was a group -of black vultures on the bank. These had been feeding and were too -plethoric to fly. Vultures are usually reckoned disagreeable objects, -but there was nothing unpleasant in these birds. They were sleek and -black and plump enough to be barnyard fowl in a giant’s hennery. Another -curve disclosed another group, but here was something to astonish at -first sight. Half these vultures were white,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_261" id="page_261">{261}</a></span> with longer legs and -necks, a different bird altogether, yet all feeding in a group. If you -could mate a black vulture and a white heron the resulting progeny might -be such a bird as this. Primaries, secondaries and tail were glossy, -greenish black, the rest of the bird was white. The head and neck were -bare like a vulture, and the group took flight together, the white birds -going into the air with the black ones, and soaring about in the sky -later in much the same sort of circling, flapless flight. Here they -looked like big white water turkeys, their legs stretched heron-wise -behind their fan-shaped tails, their necks stretched forward like that -of a water turkey when flying, a thing a heron never does.</p> - -<p>After all the answer was easy. Bird gazing on a roaring St. Johns River -steamer, I had chanced upon a flock of birds of a variety that I had not -before found in all Florida, the woodland ibis. They remained -contentedly soaring in the heavens with their black friends as long as I -could keep them in sight from the steamer, with a glass. It was a -curious group, too, these long-necked, long-legged birds soaring like -crazy cranes with the sedate, graceful vultures.</p> - -<p>Nightfall catches the steamer still churning the dark waters down -winding walls of forest, now and then stopping at a rough dock which -represents some invisible town. The water gets black<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_262" id="page_262">{262}</a></span> and the wilderness -ahead blends with it, while the goblin-like voices of Florida frogs -sound from the swamps. I would hate to be lost in a Florida swamp over -night. There are more strange voices there that gasp and gurgle and -screech and choke than anywhere else in the world. By and by the sudden -shaft of the searchlight leaps ahead, transforming a single -ever-changing circle into fairyland walled within impenetrable murk.</p> - -<p>Never before was a forest so green as that which this light penetrates -till trunks and foliage bar it off. Never before were tree-trunks edged -with such quivering rainbows and built of such corrugated gold. On any -stump, once black and slimy with decay, now coruscating with jeweled -light, might well sit a fairy with wand, transparent wings, and -diaphanous garments of green and gold. You get to watch, breathless, for -this as the rich circle slides on and on down the bank ahead or jumps -like rainbowed lightning to another side or shoots far ahead along a -straight stretch of river, perhaps firing with smokeless splendor some -crazy dock or ancient river-bank house.</p> - -<p>The scorching heat of the sun is gone and the river damp wraps all -things in a coolness that is grateful to the wearied skin. The boat -glides forward into white river mists, out of which fly wonderful winged -creatures of the night. These, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_263" id="page_263">{263}</a></span>visible in the darkness, become -spirits of fire in the white shaft of the searchlight, up which they fly -to the lantern itself, then vanish again. It is the moth and the flame, -only there the moth is the flame itself, a winged, magical creature of -gold, fluttering in a rainbow-tinted white light that has called it out -of the black invisibility. It is no wonder that many of the travelers -sit up all night. These have their reward, for they see the sudden sun -flash all the white river mists with fire, through which they glide up -to a magical city, which after all is only Jacksonville, the end of the -route.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_264" id="page_264">{264}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /><br /> -<small>HOLLY BLOSSOM TIME</small></h2> - -<p>A swoon of heat and blue tropic haze brings holly blossom time to -northern Florida in mid-April. In this haze the distant shores of the -St. Johns slip away until the silver gleam of the water seems to lift -them and toss them over the horizon’s rim, out of sight, making a -boundless sea of the placid river. The thermometer climbs with the day -into the eighties and stays there till the sun is well on his way down -again. The noon weather has the dog-day feel of a New England August and -gives little invitation to exercise in the full sun.</p> - -<p>It is then that one is apt to give thanks to the great oaks which grow -upon all the high hammock land and whose glossy green leaves and pendent -masses of gray moss shut out the sun. Here in a druidical twilight one -may roam in safety and near-comfort following the quaint odor of the -holly blooms to the trees themselves. The oaks are mighty of trunk but -soon divide into proportionately mighty limbs that lean far over the -road<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_265" id="page_265">{265}</a></span> till the moss that swings down from them is like banners swung -across city streets in holiday decorations. Often the wild grapes, now -with tender, crinkle-edged leaves two-thirds grown, swing in stout ropes -across the street too, from one oak to another, and all these are also -hung with the moss flags till they make the gloom grayer and deeper and -in spite of the festive suggestion one half expects in the duskier -corners to see the stones, the flash of the sacrificial knife, and hear -the eerie chant of the elder priests. It takes the cheerful holly to -remove this impression.</p> - -<p>Compared with the oaks the holly is a Noah’s ark tree, with one central -shaft from roots to apex and numerous short, slender limbs that shape -the outline into a modified cylinder. At Christmas time this cylinder -was of dense, dark green with red berries giving it a ruddy glow in all -shadows, as if ingle-nook embers glowed therein. The stiff, -prickly-edged leaves stippled the whole into a delightful decoration -that has become hallowed by conventional association.</p> - -<p>Now the tree is different. The dark green of the Christmas foliage is -still there, but from all twig tips have sprung shoots of new leaves -that have not yet known their set prickers, but light the dark surface -with a wayward sprinkling of tender color which is but the green of the -old leaves grown joyous and youthful in the new. Sitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266">{266}</a></span> on the new -wood are tiny clusters of flowers, each very prim and proper with four -divisions of the white corolla, four stiff stamens set between and -holding yellow heads at exact angles. All this should be as conventional -as the Christmas decorations, but it is not. The waywardness of youth -has got into the blood of the holly and the new sprigs are as jaunty and -as airily conscious of the joy of living as any shrub you will find in a -league of flat-woods and swamps.</p> - -<p>Even the perfume of the holly blooms is wayward and just enough -different in its originality to make you wonder if you will not come to -dislike it, and then fall in love with it while you test it. The -unobtrusiveness of the holly blooms is proof of their good taste, for -this jaunty waywardness of the exultant spring does not appear till you -come to know them well.</p> - -<p>One looks in vain for the blooms of the jasmine in this region now. Six -weeks ago they crowned all wild tangles with golden yellow and made -cloth of gold all along the sunny forest aisles. Now all this bloom is -gone and the jasmine, grown strangely wise and industrious, will do -nothing in the fervid heat but climb in twining slenderness over new -routes and plan flaunting displays of beauty for another winter-end. The -wild cherokee roses, that shamed the gold with the purity of their -white, have done better. There are hedge<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267">{267}</a></span>rows still starred with their -beauty, but even these are passing and the stars are but single where -once they marked a milky way of scintillant white. But the woods have -other beauty to tempt the wayfarer into their aisles. In places they are -green with the leaves of the partridge berry and the twin blossoms, I -think a little larger than those I find on Northern hillsides in summer, -send forth the same delicious scent.</p> - -<p>In lower grounds the atamasco lilies have trooped forth to stroll here -and there in the woodland shadows. Fairy lilies the people here call -them, and Easter lilies. Fairy lilies they might well be. They spring -from a bulb and show no leaves to the casual glance, only a dainty lily -bloom that is pink in the bud, pure white in maturity, and pink again as -it fades. The fairy lilies seem to thrive most where the cattlemen burn -out the underbrush each winter. Their tender purity springing from the -blackened stretches under the great pines is one of the dearest things -imaginable. Sometimes you may stroll a mile with these stars tracing -constellations on the dark vault at your feet.</p> - -<p>On the margins of the oak hammock where thickets slope to the swamps the -wild smilax races with the grapes, and all among these the viburnums and -the dogwoods have set cymes of softest white. Above these still climbs -the wild sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_268" id="page_268">{268}</a></span> honeysuckle of the South, <i>Lonicera grata</i>, its fragrant -white tubes turning yellow with age, and now and then a high wall of -green foliage is all hung with bead-like decorations of the coral -honeysuckle, giving it a curious, gem-like effect in red and yellow. -Viewing these things, less obtrusive but equally beautiful, one is -inclined to forget his regret for the vanished jasmine yellow and the -pure white of the passing cherokee roses. Behind it all, looming toward -the high sky line of the swamp in such places is the feathery softness -of the new cypress leaves, delicately fluffed in the softest tints of -pure spring green. Young cypress leaves are more like feathers than any -other leaves I know. Collectively it seems as if they had as much right -to be called plumage as foliage.</p> - -<p>It is at this time of year that the frost weed slips shyly at first into -sandy dooryards, and later makes them all gold of a morning with crowded -heads of clear yellow flowers. With these two comes the phlox, almost -unnoticed among low-growing herbs till it blooms. Then some morning the -dooryard begins to blush and by night has grown all rosy with pink and -purple flowers, a heterogeneous assortment of shades that blend -nevertheless in a pleasing whole. Such marvels does April build out of -sand and sun and rushing rain that has hardly time to fall so eager is -the sun to be out and at it again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_269" id="page_269">{269}</a></span></p> - -<p>More than flowers does this scorching midday sun bring out. It always -seems as if under its potency the little green chameleons were drawn up -as blisters from the herbage on which they like to rest. Once you get -the shape of the motionless, finger-long creature in your eye you may -note that it is that of an alligator whose tail fades indistinctly into -the leaf or twig. But while the alligator is repellent his tiny, -leaf-textured prototype fascinates, and it is easy to see how the desire -to make pets of chameleons originated and grew till the law had to step -in and put a stop to the wholesale cruelty which the practice -engendered. He looks at you with such gentle, bird-like, bright eyes -that you inadvertently reach out to stroke him. Then he gives you an -example of his kind of thought transference. Surely the wee legs of the -creature never could have moved him like that, but he has gone like the -flashing of a thought to a place out of reach where he eyes you, as -bright and immobile as before.</p> - -<p>In Mark Twain’s heaven people wished themselves from one part to -another, traversing limitless space in no time. So evidently it is with -the chameleon.</p> - -<p>This tiny lizard sleeps in pale green with an immaculately white under -side, a most charming nymph’s nightdress. Pale green too is its fighting -color, and when badly frightened the green<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_270" id="page_270">{270}</a></span> suffuses its entire body. -Often in bright sunlight this green changes to a rich, dark brown, a -color which makes it look so much like a twig as to defy the eye to find -it until it moves. Yet I doubt if this change of coloring is so much a -matter of protective instinct as we have been taught to believe as it is -a matter of temperament and emotion. The animal seems to sleep, fight -and run away in pale green. When let alone, unsuspicious and basking in -the full sun, this color is changed to the brown, and if you will watch -the change take place you will see some interesting variations into -golden yellow, slaty gray and even a peppering of white dots on the -back. Gentle and lovable as these creatures seem, the males have tiny -battles which are quite tempestuous within teapot limits. At such times -they protrude queer, inflated neck pouches and bite and thrash about -with great agility and vehemence, the combat often ending in the -vanquished leaving his twisted-off tail in the mouth of the other while -he wishes himself to safety in the crevice of some dead stump. Then the -victor struts with the trophy in his mouth, his neck pouch distended and -his brightest green showing more vividly than ever.</p> - -<p>This loss of the tail does not seem to be a serious matter with -chameleons and other small lizards, indeed the appendage seems to be a -sort of customary final ransom paid for bodily safety. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_271" id="page_271">{271}</a></span> twists off -with comparative ease and the lizard merely goes without it until -another, stubbier one grows in its place.</p> - -<p>They are queer folk, these little Florida lizards. Another variety is -known quite properly as the “five-lined skink” when young. Colloquially -it is the “blue tail,” from the color of that part which is a bright and -beautiful blue. The body is then black with five stripes of vivid -yellow. This coloring fades, the blue last, as the creature grows old -till finally you would not know the beast. In maturity it is the -“red-headed lizard,” its olive brown, ten-inch whole including a big -head which is quite brilliantly red. This lizard the neighbors call a -“scorpion,” and assure me it is deadly poison, with the accent on the -deadly, though I fail to find any record of injury coming from contact -with it. Its blood-red head gives it a rather raw look and I fancy that -is all there is to it. To be repulsive is to be dangerous; that is a -common fallacy.</p> - -<p>If I were to see a “red-head” coming toward me with his mouth open I am -quite sure I should run, though where or why I cannot imagine, for the -skinks can wish themselves from one place to another just as well as the -chameleons. Like the chameleons they battle and lose their tails, and it -is no uncommon thing to see a couple fighting, whirling and scrambling -among the leaves like<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_272" id="page_272">{272}</a></span> nothing in the world unless it is a snake in a -fit, or a goblin pinwheel made of a blur of whizzing tails and a red -blotch in the center.</p> - -<p>But enough of these uncanny creatures. The woods are vibrant with bird -voices, local and migrant. Vireos warble in the tree tops, white-bellied -swallows twitter as they soar and swoop, red birds whistle till the very -dogs run hither and thither, believing they have a hundred masters all -calling them at once. Mocking birds mock, not so much their bird -neighbors as me. I stalk them for this and for that old friend, for this -and for that stranger, only to find half the time that it is just Mister -Mocking Bird sitting on a twig on the other side of the orange tree and -looking as soulful and demure as if he had not just finished cackling -with elfin laughter at my mystification.</p> - -<p>He is a rare old bird, this mocker, and you come to love him more and -more as you know him better. Even now though he fools me and mocks me I -am ready to swear that he never did it. He was just singing heavenly -melodies without any thought outside of the pure and noble joy of -living. As for imitating other birds, I am convinced that it is no such -thing. They learned their notes from him. They tell me that mocking -birds sing more and better in September than they do in April. This, I -dare say, is true, though listening to them in April I do not see how it -can be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_273" id="page_273">{273}</a></span></p> - -<p>When the grateful coolness of the evening comes fast with the -lengthening shadows the mocking birds carol their friendliest -good-nights. The sun goes down in a flame of red as vivid as the color -of the scarlet tanager which I heard in the pine tops at noon, warbling -his cheery, robin-like notes through an air that quivered with gold and -green, and was sticky with the aroma of pitchy distillations. The sun -was the original distiller of naval stores. It is quite plain that he -taught the Jacksonville millionaires the way to wealth, leading them by -the nose, so to speak. The silver river of the morning is for a time a -plain of burnished copper through which the sun burns a long straight -trail of fire that vanishes into the blue mists of the distance. Up this -trail flies the copper burnishing and the blue mists follow after, -leaving an opaque mystery of darkness, an unknown, unexplorable country -where was the river. Shadows well up in the orange groves, blurring the -long aisles between the trees, while the mocking birds and red birds go -to sleep with their heads under their wings. Silence has fallen on the -cheery voices of the day, and out of the mystery of the darkness come -the sourceless noises of the night.</p> - -<p>Out of grass and shrubbery flood the shrill pipings of myriads of -insects, beings that exist for us only as voices. The thought gives -them<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_274" id="page_274">{274}</a></span> neither body nor location. It is as impossible to guess the -direction whence the noises come as it is to find the creatures -themselves. They are but a million infinitesimal shrillnesses merging in -an uproar that nevertheless soothes and lulls. From the gray void where -by day there was a river come other voices, they tell me those of frogs. -These swell in rattling gusts up out of silence and down back again, an -unmusical clangor as of drowning cowbells struck harshly. These should -be mechanical frogs with brazen throats and tense cat-gut tongues, made -in Switzerland, frankensteins of the batrachian world, wound up and -warranted for eight hours, to make such eerie, disquieting music. To -turn your back to the river and walk inland along the dim, uncertain -aisles of the orange groves is to escape this and meet pleasanter if -still mysterious voices.</p> - -<p>From dusk till the full blackness of the moonless night wipes out all -things below the tree tops the Southern whip-poor-will sings. The voice -is less shrill and insistent than that of our Northern whip-poor-will, -does not carry quite so far, is less of a plaint and more of a chuckle. -Some Southern people say that the bird says, -“Dick-fell-out-of-the-white-oak,” others “Dick-married-the-widow.” Both -phrases seem to recognize a humorous quality in the tale the bird has to -tell, far different from the lonely “whip-poor-will.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_275" id="page_275">{275}</a></span>” Best authorities, -however, seem to have agreed that “Chuck-Will’s-widow” is the most -accurate translation. It is easy to fancy that Will’s widow is buxom and -still young, and that to chuck her—under the chin, of course—would put -a mellow gurgle into any night bird’s note. At any rate the gurgle is -there, and though the voice ceases in complete darkness the first crack -of dawn lets it through again, and we lose it only when the red-bird -chorus begins to pipe hosanna to the new day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_276" id="page_276">{276}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /><br /> -<small>IN A TURPENTINE CAMP</small></h2> - -<p>The white sands of the Florida coast seem like the pearly gates drawing -reluctantly together behind the departing traveler. The winter has -rolled up like a scroll behind him, enfolding pictures of delights so -different from those which a Northern winter could have given him that -it seems as if for him the ages have rolled back and he is our father -Adam stepping forth from Paradise, while his eyes still cling fondly to -beloved scenes. The swoon of summer is on all the land which lies blue -beyond those pearly gates and the soft odors follow like half-embodied -memories.</p> - -<p>Strongest perhaps of these and most gratefully lasting is the resinous -aroma of the Southern pines which clothe the level peninsula in living -green from Tampa to the Indian River, from Fernandina to the Keys. In -the coolest of winter days this odor greets the dawn and lingers behind -the sunset, and though the stronger scent of flowers often overpowers it -for a time it is always there, a permanent delight. Now the fervid heat<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_277" id="page_277">{277}</a></span> -of the sun is distilling this from all barrens, for the sap is exultant -in the trees and all the turpentine camps are in full swing.</p> - -<p>People who regret the turpentine camps set the day not far ahead, in -three years or in five, when the smoke of the last still will have -vanished and the ruthless ax of the woodsman following will have cut the -last tree for the second-quality lumber which the turpentine-bleeding -process leaves behind. Others say the end of the trees is something like -the end of the world. It has been prophesied almost since the beginning -and has never yet happened. Certain it is that turpentining is to-day -being carried on within a few miles of Jacksonville, Florida’s principal -city, just as ruthlessly as it was a dozen years ago, and though the end -of the world has surely come for the trees in certain tracts, in others -they still give up amber tears of resin under the wounds that are -re-opened weekly that they may continue to bleed.</p> - -<p>Young trees grow where the old ones have been taken out and in many a -once-ploughed field stands to-day a young growth that will soon be big -enough to yield a “crop of boxes.” It takes but fifteen years of growth -under favorable circumstances to make a tree large enough to be -profitable. From the time such a tree feels the ax of the turpentiner -until it ceases to bleed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_278" id="page_278">{278}</a></span> profitably may be several years, three at -least. Then if let alone it does not die. The sun which draws rich -aromas from the resin on the long scar leaves behind a seal of hardened -pitch which closes the wound and beneath such bark as is left the sap -rises still to the nourishment of the leaves above. After a few years -the man may come back with his ax and again draw revenue from new wounds -that cut through the yet untouched bark. Another “crop of boxes” -extending through more years depletes the final vitality of the tree. -After that its value is measured only by the worth of the sap-drained -lumber remaining in its trunk.</p> - -<p>The Chinese taught the world the first rudiments of the uses of -turpentine. As one follows one art of modern civilization after another -to its source, it is surprising how many of them came from the far -slopes of eastern Asia. It seems sometimes as if the Chinese had grown -old in the arts before we of the Western world began to know there was -any such thing, old and forgetful of most of them but still having -lingering traditions on which we base our first halting experiments. -Through them came to the shores of the Mediterranean in the unremembered -ages the knowledge of the uses of the oil and the gum of the -terebinthine tree, a rudimentary knowledge which modern chemistry has -expanded into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_279" id="page_279">{279}</a></span> science which touches all arts, from portrait painting -to pavements, from sanitation to seamanship.</p> - -<p>Without the distillations from these stately trees of the Florida -barrens the forward march of the world’s progress would go on somewhat -haltingly and for that reason if no other we may well hope that their -destruction may never be accomplished. That conservation must take the -place of destruction is already the cry, and the regulations which would -bring this about would not seem to be difficult to enforce. Methods -which improve the product and prolong the life of the tree are already -coming into vogue from economic reasons. Legislation prompted by these -is already discussed. The awakening of an æsthetic sentiment which will -save to Florida one of her chief beauties, the endless groves of stately -trees where one wanders as in a mighty-columned temple filled with -incense burning upon the altars of the wood gods, may well do the rest. -The world needs turpentine and Florida needs tourists; wisdom may well -be justified of both.</p> - -<p>The old, crude method of the turpentine maker was to “box” the tree near -the ground, cutting a considerable cavity in the trunk into which the -sap might drip and collect. Then above this is cut a wide scarf going -just beneath the bark into the sapwood, a scarf whose upper edge draws<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_280" id="page_280">{280}</a></span> -down into a point in the middle. In our great-grandmother’s day young -children wore short flaring skirts and projecting white garments -beneath, the lower edges of which were cut into saw points. Looking into -the gold-green depths of a Florida pine wood which is being turpentined -you catch the flash of these white garments beneath the skirts of the -forest as your train rushes by, and you smile. Here is all the world in -pantalets. The flitting perspective flips these before your eyes in -bewildering changes till you recall the lines of one who sang—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, had I lived when song was great,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And legs of trees were limber,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ta’en my fiddle to the gate<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fiddled in the timber!<br /></span> -<span class="idtts">. . . . . . .<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old elms came breaking from the vine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The vine streamed out to follow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, sweating rosin, danced the pine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From many a cloudy hollow—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">and you make sure that the days of old Amphion have come again. Here are -the stately trees that buttress this solemn temple of the deep pine -woods, doing a weaving maypole dance in pantalets. Surely this could -happen only in an American forest.</p> - -<p>The pitch sweats from the wood in curdy white cream and imperceptibly -flows down into the boxes cut for it in the base of the tree. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_281" id="page_281">{281}</a></span> -these boxes are full appear stalwart negroes, often fantastically clad, -dipping the accumulated pitch into buckets and filling casks that are -drawn by solemn mules, whose faces are so inscrutably stupid that they -appear wise with an elder, satyr-like wisdom.</p> - -<p>The negroes, in the freedom of the old wood, lose the veneer which -civilization is giving the race and work with a care-free swing. Often -you hear them in the distance singing some song that lilts and croons, -that ignores the studied interrelation of tonic and sub-dominant, that -has neither beginning nor end, but chimes in its minor cadences with the -music of the wind in the tree tops. It might well be impossible to -reduce such songs to the bonds of modern notation. It is a music that -grew in the marrow of the race before tunes were invented—a music grown -sad and fragmentary now, I fear, but surely that which Amphion learned -and to which the free-footed trees danced in his days. The negro of the -pineries is careless, often brutal, always happy-go-lucky, but the men -who employ him say that he works well with right management; in fact, is -the best labor that can be had for the place, and that the business -would not know what to do without him. He surely fits the scene and one -would be sorry to miss him from it.</p> - -<p>The old crude method of boxing the trees is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_282" id="page_282">{282}</a></span> fortunately, rapidly -passing and in the place of the great hole cut in the base of the trunk -one often passes through miles of trees that have flowerpot-like -receptacles hung beneath them to catch the pitch. This means a cleaner -product, longer-lived trees and greater facilities in handling. It means -that when fire sweeps through the barrens as so often happens the blaze -will not get down into the heart of the tree and destroy it. Before this -trees which were boxed deeply would hold the fire in their light-wood -hearts till it had eaten them out and the stately columns, reeling and -sagging drunkenly, would finally fall in ruin, leaving but a burnt-out -crater where once they stood.</p> - -<p>The mule teams bring the casks of pitch to the still on creaking wagons. -The big copper, flask-like top is taken off the great copper kettle and -barrel after barrel is hoisted and dumped in till it is full, scores of -barrels of pitch from thousands of trees being required for one run. The -fire is started beneath the kettle and the pitch warmed up a bit till -the chips which have been collected with the sap have risen to the -surface and been skimmed off. The cover is replaced and connected with -the great copper worm which winds down and round in big convolutions in -a great tank of water which shall cool it. Then a tiny stream of water -is set flowing by way of a spigot into the pitch kettle and the fire is -pushed again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_283" id="page_283">{283}</a></span> The refining heat melts the dross and the very spirit of -the tree begins to bubble forth, is caught up by the steam from the -water which is introduced and carried over into the great copper worm -whence both flow, cooled and condensed by the surrounding water. But the -two cannot mingle and in the end the floating turpentine is siphoned off -and the residual water allowed to flow away.</p> - -<p>By what alchemy of a subtler kind than any yet applied by man the tree -draws from the gray Florida sand, from the black humus scattered through -it, from the flooding rains of summer and the long glories of winter -suns and the winds of space, this aromatic essence of pungency and fire -no man can say. These are things for a deeper chemistry than that yet -taught in the schools to fathom. So desired is it by artist and artisan -that in a year more than three quarters of a million casks are shipped -from Southern ports to the markets of the world, a massing of results -that might well astound the Confucian alchemists of the elder race who -first worked on the gum of the terebinthine tree.</p> - -<p>After some hours of heat all the turpentine has passed from the retort -and the spigot is turned at the bottom of the tank that the residue may -run off. In the old-time rough working of boxed trees this was a dark, -viscid liquid which soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_284" id="page_284">{284}</a></span> hardened in cooling into a brittle mass which -is known the world over as rosin. To-day one may well be surprised and -delighted to stand by the still when the liquid is drawn off and see -what he gets. Instead of the dark mass he will see a pellucid flood -which is dipped into the casks in which it is to harden and be shipped, -at first a pale amber wine which might have got its color from the same -source as that juice of the grape which flows from the vats in Italian -vineyards. You may dip flowers in this liquid and take them out coated -with a brittle transparency which is beautiful to look at and which will -keep them, hermetically sealed and preserved, till a rough touch -shatters the glassy envelope and it falls in splintered fragments. This -is the finest rosin, the “water white” of the trade, bringing the -distillers a matter of ten dollars or so a cask. The next best grade is -known as “window glass,” almost the equal of the other in purity, and -from that the quality runs down through grade after grade till the -old-time opaque, dark red rosin stands at the bottom of the list. Twelve -grades in all are commonly quoted by the trade.</p> - -<p>The flowing sap in the Florida pine trees is as susceptible as that of -the Northern sugar maples to heat or cold. In the months of winter, -December, January and February, little pitch is collected. In early -summer or late spring the flow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_285" id="page_285">{285}</a></span> is best. But as the pine of the Southern -forests is more stately and taciturn than the maple, so the movements of -life within its veins are slower and more dignified. On a warm spring -morning in Vermont you may hear the patter of the sap in the pails and -see it drip from the very trees. A man may watch a Southern pine for -long before he sees any amber tear pass from the trunk into the -receptacle placed to hold it. That drumming of the rising sap is never -heard.</p> - -<p>The solemn quiet of the flat-woods seems to be on the whole thing, and -it is no wonder that the songs the negroes sing while working in the -woods have minor cadences in them. One must learn to know these lonesome -and at first monotonous pine forests before he understands them and -comes to love them. Once that is accomplished, their charm for him is -perennial. The endearing aroma of the pines follows him far and seems -most potent when the fervent warmth of spring suns turns his thoughts -toward the cool winds of Northern hillsides.</p> - -<p>So long as the southwest winds follow his home-bound ship, so long he -sniffs, or thinks he sniffs, the wild freedom of the pine levels, and -the chant of the wind in the sparse tree tops seems to come to his ears -and whine that wild, minor, endless tune of the elder world, fragments -of which the care-free negroes chant as they gather the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_286" id="page_286">{286}</a></span> pitch and scar -anew the bleeding trunks. It takes a change of weather and the rough -burr of a northeaster to change this. Then he smells once more the cool -brine swept far out of arctic seas. His ears lose the minor cadences and -prick to welcome the major uproar of surf that bellows hoarse on Grand -Manan and sends white surges playing follow-your-leader over the gray -rocks of Marblehead, leaps the rough cliffs of Scituate and rolls in -fluffy masses of spindrift far inland on the sands of Cape Cod. Then -only is the charm broken and he breathes deep of the home wind and knows -that it is blowing to him across a cool land, one yet but gray-green -with the first impulses of spring, but dearer and more beautiful than -all others.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_287" id="page_287">{287}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_288" id="page_288">{288}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_289" id="page_289">{289}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> - -<p class="c"><a href="#A">A</a>, -<a href="#B">B</a>, -<a href="#C">C</a>, -<a href="#D">D</a>, -<a href="#E">E</a>, -<a href="#F">F</a>, -<a href="#G">G</a>, -<a href="#H">H</a>, -<a href="#I">I</a>, -<a href="#J">J</a>, -<a href="#K">K</a>, -<a href="#L">L</a>, -<a href="#M">M</a>, -<a href="#N">N</a>, -<a href="#O">O</a>, -<a href="#P">P</a>, -<a href="#Q">Q</a>, -<a href="#R">R</a>, -<a href="#S">S</a>, -<a href="#T">T</a>, -<a href="#U">U</a>, -<a href="#V">V</a>, -<a href="#W">W</a>, -<a href="#Y">Y</a>, -<a href="#Z">Z</a></p> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="letra"><a name="A" id="A"></a></span>A<br /> - -Abu Kasim, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -<i>Achrosticum aureum</i>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.<br /> - -Adam, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Æneid, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.<br /> - -Afreet, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>.<br /> - -Ajax, <a href="#page_47">47</a>.<br /> - -Alder, <a href="#page_156">156</a>.<br /> - -Alice-in-Wonderland, <a href="#page_175">175</a>.<br /> - -Allamanda, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.<br /> - -Alligator, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_222">222</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>, <a href="#page_224">224</a>, <a href="#page_226">226</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>.<br /> - -Amaryllis, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.<br /> - -Amberjack, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> - -Ampelopsis, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> - -Amphion, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_281">281</a>.<br /> - -<i>Anarcharis canadensis</i>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -Anastasia Island, <a href="#page_87">87</a>.<br /> - -Andalusia, <a href="#page_94">94</a>.<br /> - -<i>Andropogon</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Arctatus</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Scoparius</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>.</span><br /> - -Angel fish, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>.<br /> - -Angleworm, <a href="#page_142">142</a>.<br /> - -Anhinga, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.<br /> - -<i>Anosia plexippus</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Berenice</i>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> - -Apple, <a href="#page_49">49</a>.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_290" id="page_290">{290}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baldwin, <a href="#page_56">56</a>.</span><br /> - -Apple, Custard, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Golden, <a href="#page_49">49</a>.</span><br /> - -Apple tree, <a href="#page_49">49</a>.<br /> - -<i>Ardea wardi</i>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>.<br /> - -Ash, swamp, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>.<br /> - -Aster, purple, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elliottii</i>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="B" id="B"></a></span>B<br /> - -Bahamas, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>.<br /> - -Balthazar, <a href="#page_95">95</a>.<br /> - -Bamboo, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_142">142</a>.<br /> - -Bananas, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.<br /> - -Bass, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Large-mouthed black, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Northern, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Straw, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wide-mouthed, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.</span><br /> - -Bayberry, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>.<br /> - -Beans, <a href="#page_109">109</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cherokee, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> - -Bear, <a href="#page_84">84</a>.<br /> - -Begonia, <a href="#page_113">113</a>.<br /> - -Ben Hur, <a href="#page_248">248</a>.<br /> - -Bethlehem, <a href="#page_94">94</a>.<br /> - -Birds:<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Anhinga, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ardea cœrulea</i>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_291" id="page_291">{291}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Wardi</i>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blackbird, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Crow, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Redwing, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Rusty, <a href="#page_166">166</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bluebird, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bobolink, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bunting, painted, <a href="#page_218">218</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bay-winged, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Butcher, southern, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Buzzard, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_9">9</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Turkey, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cardinal, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Catbird, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ceophlœus pileatus</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chickadee, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coot, <a href="#page_165">165</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cormorant, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Corvus, Americanus</i>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Ossifragus</i>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Crane, <a href="#page_165">165</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sandhill, <a href="#page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Crow, fish, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida, <a href="#page_43">43</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cuckoo, <a href="#page_4">4</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yellow-billed, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dove, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Mourning, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Duck, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Raft,” <a href="#page_236">236</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wood, <a href="#page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eagle, bald, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Egret, <a href="#page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Finch, <a href="#page_43">43</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_292" id="page_292">{292}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flycatcher, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goldfinch, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goose, wild, <a href="#page_22">22</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Canadian, <a href="#page_137">137</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grackle, Florida, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grebe, pied-billed, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_35">35</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grosbeak, cardinal, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_62">62</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gulls, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Blackbacks, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownbacks, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Herring, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Kittiwake, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heron, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida great blue, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida little blue, <a href="#page_227">227</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Great blue, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Little Green, <a href="#page_161">161</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wards, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">White, <a href="#page_261">261</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hawk, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">“Killy,” <a href="#page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sharp shinned, <a href="#page_202">202</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sparrow, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Jay, blue, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Junco, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kingfisher, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kinglet, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Golden-crowned, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ruby-crowned, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Loon, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Martin, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Meadow lark, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mockingbird, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_293" id="page_293">{293}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Owl, <a href="#page_2">2</a>.</span><br /> - -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Florida barred, <a href="#page_191">191</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Screech, <a href="#page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pelican, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pigeon, <a href="#page_112">112</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Passenger, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Plover, kildeer, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Semi-palmated, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quail, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Red bird, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Robin, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shrike, loggerhead, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Snake bird, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sparrow, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Chipping, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">English, <a href="#page_2">2</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fox, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Song, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swallow, chimney, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">White-bellied, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tanager, scarlet, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thrush, hermit, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Titmouse, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tufted, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Turkey, water, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wild, <a href="#page_228">228</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Vireo, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Vulture, black, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Warbler, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Myrtle, <a href="#page_2">2</a>, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pine, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wilson’s, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yellow-rump, <a href="#page_114">114</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_294" id="page_294">{294}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woodpecker, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woodpecker, Partridge, <a href="#page_47">47</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pileated, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Red-bellied, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Red-headed, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wren, Carolina, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> - -Biscayne Bay, <a href="#page_64">64</a>.<br /> - -Blackberry, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.<br /> - -Bladderwort, <a href="#page_235">235</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Purple, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.</span><br /> - -Bleriot, <a href="#page_9">9</a>.<br /> - -Blitzen, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -Bluebeard, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Bohenia, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Boisduval, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Bouganvillea, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Bream, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>.<br /> - -Buckeye, <a href="#page_27">27</a>.<br /> - -Buckthorn, <a href="#page_112">112</a>.<br /> - -Bulrush, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Buttercup, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Butterflies:<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Anosia berenice</i>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Plexippus</i>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Basilarchia disippus</i>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Eros, <a href="#page_20">20</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Floridensis</i>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Hulsti</i>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Catopsilia eubule</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Dione vanillae</i>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Eudamus proteus</i>, <a href="#page_15">15</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fritillaries, <a href="#page_21">21</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Georgian satyr, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Heliconius charitonous</i>, <a href="#page_13">13</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Monarch, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Neonympha eurytus</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Phocion</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nymphs, spangled, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Papilio</i>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_295" id="page_295">{295}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Ajax</i>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Asterias</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cresphontes, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Palamedes, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Thoas</i>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Troilus</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Turnus</i>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Pieris monuste</i>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Queen, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Skipper, <a href="#page_16">16</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Long-tailed, <a href="#page_15">15</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Silver-spotted, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Southern white, <a href="#page_211">211</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sulphur, big, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cloudless, <a href="#page_18">18</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Little, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Orange, <a href="#page_51">51</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Viceroy, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.</span><br /> - -Butterwort, <a href="#page_125">125</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="C" id="C"></a></span>C<br /> - -Cactus, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>.<br /> - -Calapogon, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.<br /> - -Caliban, <a href="#page_79">79</a>.<br /> - -Canary, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.<br /> - -Cardinal, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>.<br /> - -Caribou, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -Caribbean Sea, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.<br /> - -Carnation, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.<br /> - -Carrot, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.<br /> - -Catbird, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>.<br /> - -Catbrier, <a href="#page_78">78</a>.<br /> - -Caterpillar, <a href="#page_51">51</a>.<br /> - -Catfish, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>.<br /> - -<i>Catopsilia eubule</i>, <a href="#page_18">18</a>.<br /> - -Cat-tail, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.<br /> - -Cedar, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Red, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.</span><br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_296" id="page_296">{296}</a></span>Celery, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.<br /> - -Chameleon, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>.<br /> - -Channel cats, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>.<br /> - -Chapman, <a href="#page_8">8</a>.<br /> - -Charleston, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.<br /> - -Cherry, Carolina laurel, <a href="#page_216">216</a>.<br /> - -Chestnut, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>.<br /> - -Chickadee, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.<br /> - -Circe, <a href="#page_246">246</a>.<br /> - -Clethra, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.<br /> - -Cobra, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.<br /> - -Cock robin, <a href="#page_166">166</a>.<br /> - -Cocoanut, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_239">239</a>.<br /> - -Cod, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.<br /> - -<i>Ceophlæus pileatus</i>, <a href="#page_161">161</a><br /> - -Columbus, <a href="#page_27">27</a>.<br /> - -Convolvulus, <a href="#page_76">76</a>.<br /> - -Coon, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.<br /> - -Coot, <a href="#page_165">165</a>.<br /> - -Coreopsis, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Cormorant, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.<br /> - -<i>Corvus americanus</i>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ossifragus</i>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.</span><br /> - -County, Alachua, <a href="#page_164">164</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brevard, <a href="#page_254">254</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dade, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. Lucie, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>.</span><br /> - -Cows, aquatic, <a href="#page_30">30</a>.<br /> - -Crab, <a href="#page_30">30</a>.<br /> - -Cramer, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Crane, <a href="#page_165">165</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sandhill, <a href="#page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> - -Cricket, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>.<br /> - -Crow, fish, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florida, <a href="#page_43">43</a>.</span><br /> - -Chrysanthemum, <a href="#page_91">91</a>.<br /> - -Cuba, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.<br /> - -Cuckoo, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.<br /> - -Cunner, northern, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> - -Cypress, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_258">258</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_297" id="page_297">{297}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swamp, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Root, <a href="#page_81">81</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stump, <a href="#page_81">81</a>.</span><br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="D" id="D"></a></span>D<br /> - -Daisy, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Dancer, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -Daytona, <a href="#page_178">178</a>.<br /> - -Deer, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>.<br /> - -<i>Dendroica coronata</i>, <a href="#page_2">2</a>.<br /> - -De Soto, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_63">63</a>.<br /> - -Diamond back, <a href="#page_172">172</a>.<br /> - -<i>Dione vanillæ</i>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_22">22</a>.<br /> - -Doctor’s lake, <a href="#page_33">33</a>.<br /> - -Dog fennel, <a href="#page_50">50</a>.<br /> - -Dogwood, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.<br /> - -Donkey, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -Doubleday, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Dove, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mourning, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> - -Dragon fly, <a href="#page_25">25</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.<br /> - -<i>Drosera brevifolia</i>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>.<br /> - -Duck, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Raft,” <a href="#page_236">236</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wood, <a href="#page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> - -Dunder, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="E" id="E"></a></span>E<br /> - -Eagle, bald, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.<br /> - -Easter, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>.<br /> - -Eden, <a href="#page_97">97</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Edwards, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Eel, <a href="#page_147">147</a>.<br /> - -Egg plant, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>.<br /> - -Egret, <a href="#page_209">209</a>.<br /> - -Elm, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>.<br /> - -Es-Sindibad, <a href="#page_243">243</a>.<br /> - -<i>Eudamus proteus</i>, <a href="#page_15">15</a>.<br /> - -Euphrates, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_298" id="page_298">{298}</a></span>Eve, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>.<br /> - -Everglades, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_119">119</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>.<br /> - -Evergreens, <a href="#page_57">57</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="F" id="F"></a></span>F<br /> - -Falstaff, Jack, <a href="#page_189">189</a>.<br /> - -Ferns:<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Achrostichum aureum</i>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Osmunda</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Cinnamomea</i>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Regalis</i>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Polypody, northern, <a href="#page_92">92</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Southern, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>.</span><br /> - -Fernandino, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Finch, <a href="#page_43">43</a>.<br /> - -Fir, <a href="#page_29">29</a>.<br /> - -Firefly, <a href="#page_170">170</a>.<br /> - -Fishes, Amberjack, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Angel, <a href="#page_251">251</a>, <a href="#page_252">252</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bass, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Large-mouthed black, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Northern, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Straw, <a href="#page_142">142</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wide-mouthed, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bream, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Catfish, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_151">151</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Channel, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cod, <a href="#page_37">37</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Crab, blue, <a href="#page_30">30</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cunner, northern, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Garfish, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Grunt,” <a href="#page_251">251</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Menhaden, <a href="#page_131">131</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mud, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mullet, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_141">141</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perch, salt-water, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_299" id="page_299">{299}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shrimp, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sunfish, <a href="#page_148">148</a>, <a href="#page_149">149</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Trout, sea, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>.</span><br /> - -Flag, <a href="#page_223">223</a>.<br /> - -Flat woods, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>.<br /> - -Flycatcher, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.<br /> - -Fort Drum, <a href="#page_199">199</a>.<br /> - -Fort Pierce, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>.<br /> - -Fox, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.<br /> - -Fritillary, <a href="#page_21">21</a>.<br /> - -Frog, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>, <a href="#page_262">262</a>, <a href="#page_274">274</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bull, northern, <a href="#page_189">189</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Southern, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tree, <a href="#page_126">126</a>.</span><br /> - -Frost weed, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> - -Fuzzy wuzzy, <a href="#page_39">39</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="G" id="G"></a></span>G<br /> - -Gallilee, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -Gall berries, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>.<br /> - -Garfish, <a href="#page_151">151</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.<br /> - -Gentian, blue, <a href="#page_78">78</a>.<br /> - -Georgian satyr, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.<br /> - -Goldenrod, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> - -Goldfinch, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.<br /> - -Goose, Canadian, <a href="#page_137">137</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wild, <a href="#page_22">22</a>.</span><br /> - -Grackle, Florida, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.<br /> - -Grape, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scuppernong, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wild, <a href="#page_10">10</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>.</span><br /> - -Grapefruit, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_197">197</a>, <a href="#page_198">198</a>, <a href="#page_199">199</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.<br /> - -Grove, <a href="#page_207">207</a>.<br /> - -Grasses, <i>Andropogon</i>, <a href="#page_50">50</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Arctatus</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Scorparius</i>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_300" id="page_300">{300}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flat-bladed, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pampas, <a href="#page_55">55</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Purple wood, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Saw, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wire, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>.</span><br /> - -Grasshopper, <a href="#page_16">16</a>, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_51">51</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long-horned, <a href="#page_187">187</a>, <a href="#page_188">188</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lubber, <a href="#page_79">79</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Short-horned, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>.</span><br /> - -Grebe, pied-billed, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_35">35</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.<br /> - -Greenbrier, <a href="#page_54">54</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>.<br /> - -Grosbeak, cardinal, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_62">62</a>.<br /> - -Grote, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -“Grunt,” <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> - -Guava, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.<br /> - -Gull, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Black-back, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown-back, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Herring, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kittiwake, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.</span><br /> - -Gum tree, <a href="#page_57">57</a>.<br /> - -Gum, sour, <a href="#page_53">53</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweet, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.</span><br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="H" id="H"></a></span>H<br /> - -“Hardpan,” <a href="#page_198">198</a>.<br /> - -Haroun-al-Raschid, <a href="#page_236">236</a>.<br /> - -Harpies, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.<br /> - -Hastings, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.<br /> - -Hawk, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Killy,” <a href="#page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sharp shinned, <a href="#page_202">202</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sparrow, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_194">194</a>.</span><br /> - -<i>Heliconius charitonus</i>, <a href="#page_13">13</a>.<br /> - -Heliopsis, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Hemlock, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.<br /> - -Heron, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florida, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florida big blue, <a href="#page_258">258</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_301" id="page_301">{301}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great blue, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little green, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ward’s, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>, <a href="#page_167">167</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> - -Hesperides, <a href="#page_49">49</a>.<br /> - -Hiawatha, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -Hibiscus, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Holland, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Holly, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>.<br /> - -Honeysuckle, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> - -Hornet, white-faced, <a href="#page_15">15</a>.<br /> - -Horsebrier, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> - -Horse-chestnut, <a href="#page_27">27</a>.<br /> - -<i>Houstonia cærulea</i>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Purpurea</i>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Rotundifolia</i>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.</span><br /> - -Huckleberry, low-bush black, <a href="#page_112">112</a>.<br /> - -Hyla, <a href="#page_127">127</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="I" id="I"></a></span>I<br /> - -Indian River, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_132">132</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_186">186</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_208">208</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Ipomea, <a href="#page_17">17</a>.<br /> - -Ivy, English, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_91">91</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="J" id="J"></a></span>J<br /> - -Jabberwock, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>.<br /> - -Jacksonville, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>, <a href="#page_263">263</a>, <a href="#page_277">277</a>.<br /> - -Jamaica, <a href="#page_107">107</a>.<br /> - -Japanese plum, <a href="#page_27">27</a>.<br /> - -Jasmine, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> - -Jay, blue, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florida, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_302" id="page_302">{302}</a></span>Junco, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="K" id="K"></a></span>K<br /> - -Keats’ St. Agnes’ Eve, <a href="#page_2">2</a>.<br /> - -Keys, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Key West, <a href="#page_250">250</a>, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> - -King Arthur, <a href="#page_37">37</a>.<br /> - -Kingfisher, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.<br /> - -Kinglet, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Golden-crowned, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ruby-crowned, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> - -Kittiwake, <a href="#page_1">1</a>.<br /> - -Knight’s Key, <a href="#page_250">250</a>.<br /> - -Kumquat, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="L" id="L"></a></span>L<br /> - -Lake, Clearwater, <a href="#page_234">234</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Okeechobee, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sawgrass, <a href="#page_254">254</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Worth, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>.</span><br /> - -Lemon, <a href="#page_109">109</a>.<br /> - -Lichen, <a href="#page_51">51</a>.<br /> - -Lilies, atamasco, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Easter, <a href="#page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fairy, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yellow pond, <a href="#page_122">122</a>.</span><br /> - -<i>Limnanthemum lacunosum</i>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>.<br /> - -Linnæus, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -“Little Cane Slough,” <a href="#page_221">221</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>.<br /> - -Lizard, <a href="#page_143">143</a>, <a href="#page_236">236</a>, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Blue-tail,” <a href="#page_271">271</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chameleon, <a href="#page_269">269</a>, <a href="#page_270">270</a>, <a href="#page_271">271</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Red-headed,” <a href="#page_271">271</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Scorpion,” <a href="#page_271">271</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“Skink, five-lined,” <a href="#page_271">271</a>.</span><br /> - -Locust, <a href="#page_79">79</a>.<br /> - -Longfellow, <a href="#page_7">7</a>.<br /> - -<i>Lonicera grata</i>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> - -Loon, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_303" id="page_303">{303}</a></span>Loquat, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_28">28</a>, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="M" id="M"></a></span>M<br /> - -Madeira vine, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -Magnolia, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Glauca</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> - -Manatee, <a href="#page_144">144</a>.<br /> - -Mandalay, <a href="#page_26">26</a>.<br /> - -Mandarin, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_63">63</a>.<br /> - -Mangrove, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_134">134</a>, <a href="#page_157">157</a>.<br /> - -Maple, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swamp, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_118">118</a>.</span><br /> - -Fort Marion, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>.<br /> - -Martin, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.<br /> - -Matanzas River, <a href="#page_90">90</a>.<br /> - -Meadow lark, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.<br /> - -Melba, <a href="#page_188">188</a>.<br /> - -Menhaden, <a href="#page_131">131</a>.<br /> - -Miami, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Milkweed, <a href="#page_175">175</a>.<br /> - -Mistletoe, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> - -Moccasin, cotton-mouthed, <a href="#page_173">173</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Water, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.</span><br /> - -Mocking bird, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_40">40</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_200">200</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.<br /> - -Monarch, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -Morgan, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Morning glory, <a href="#page_17">17</a>.<br /> - -Moss, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Club, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gray, <a href="#page_51">51</a>, <a href="#page_58">58</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spanish, <a href="#page_63">63</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>.</span><br /> - -Moth, forester, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.<br /> - -Mrs. Partington, <a href="#page_254">254</a>.<br /> - -Mudfish, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.<br /> - -Mullet, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_209">209</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.<br /> - -Muskmelon, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_304" id="page_304">{304}</a></span>Myrtle, <a href="#page_121">121</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="N" id="N"></a></span>N<br /> - -Nautilus, <a href="#page_237">237</a>.<br /> - -<i>Neonympha eurytus</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Phocion</i>, <a href="#page_218">218</a>.</span><br /> - -Nymph, spangled, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="O" id="O"></a></span>O<br /> - -Oak, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>, <a href="#page_265">265</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Live, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_10">10</a>, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_13">13</a>, <a href="#page_15">15</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_38">38</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_62">62</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">River, <a href="#page_80">80</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scrub, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Water, <a href="#page_157">157</a>, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.</span><br /> - -Oberon, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> - -Oleander, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pink, <a href="#page_232">232</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">White, <a href="#page_232">232</a>.</span><br /> - -Oppossum, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.<br /> - -Orange, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_60">60</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_106">106</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_216">216</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blossoms, <a href="#page_18">18</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_201">201</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grove, <a href="#page_51">51</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_59">59</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_65">65</a>, <a href="#page_102">102</a>, <a href="#page_103">103</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Puppy, <a href="#page_51">51</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tree, <a href="#page_50">50</a>, <a href="#page_56">56</a>, <a href="#page_99">99</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.</span><br /> - -Orchid, <a href="#page_20">20</a>.<br /> - -Ormond, <a href="#page_178">178</a>.<br /> - -Osceola, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_253">253</a>.<br /> - -<i>Osmunda</i>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Cinnamomea</i>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Regalis, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.</span><br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_305" id="page_305">{305}</a></span>Owl, <a href="#page_2">2</a>.<br /> - -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florida barred, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Screech, <a href="#page_190">190</a>.</span><br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="P" id="P"></a></span>P<br /> - -Palatka, <a href="#page_110">110</a>.<br /> - -Palm, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_117">117</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cocoanut, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Royal, <a href="#page_110">110</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Silver, <a href="#page_248">248</a>.</span><br /> - -Palm Beach, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_231">231</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">West, <a href="#page_233">233</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>.</span><br /> - -Palmetto, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_89">89</a>, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_162">162</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>, <a href="#page_169">169</a>, <a href="#page_171">171</a>, <a href="#page_179">179</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>, <a href="#page_210">210</a>, <a href="#page_219">219</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cabbage, <a href="#page_110">110</a>, <a href="#page_164">164</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sabal, <a href="#page_153">153</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Saw, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_244">244</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scrub, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_83">83</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_165">165</a>, <a href="#page_166">166</a>, <a href="#page_223">223</a>.</span><br /> - -Palmetto blooms, <a href="#page_147">147</a>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -“Palmetto Leaves,” <a href="#page_61">61</a>.<br /> - -Pan, <a href="#page_238">238</a>.<br /> - -Papaw, <a href="#page_175">175</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>, <a href="#page_248">248</a>.<br /> - -<i>Papilio ajax</i>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Asterias</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Cresphontes</i>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>, <a href="#page_206">206</a>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Palamedes</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Thoas</i>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Troilus</i>, <a href="#page_214">214</a>, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Turnus</i>, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.</span><br /> - -Paradise, <a href="#page_237">237</a>, <a href="#page_238">238</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Parsley, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.<br /> - -Partridge berry, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.<br /> - -Passion vine, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_306" id="page_306">{306}</a></span>Peacock, <a href="#page_214">214</a>.<br /> - -Pelican, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_8">8</a>, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_129">129</a>, <a href="#page_130">130</a>, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_135">135</a>, <a href="#page_136">136</a>, <a href="#page_137">137</a>, <a href="#page_138">138</a>.<br /> - -Pelican Island, <a href="#page_131">131</a>, <a href="#page_133">133</a>.<br /> - -Pelican rookery, <a href="#page_202">202</a>.<br /> - -Pepper, <a href="#page_245">245</a>.<br /> - -Perch, salt water, <a href="#page_251">251</a>.<br /> - -Persian, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -Peter, <a href="#page_31">31</a>.<br /> - -Pharaohs, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Phlox, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.<br /> - -Pickerel week, <a href="#page_122">122</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>.<br /> - -<i>Pieris monuste</i>, <a href="#page_213">213</a>.<br /> - -Pigeon, <a href="#page_112">112</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Passenger, <a href="#page_183">183</a>.</span><br /> - -Pine, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_6">6</a>, <a href="#page_80">80</a>, <a href="#page_152">152</a>, <a href="#page_153">153</a>, <a href="#page_180">180</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_184">184</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>, <a href="#page_202">202</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>, <a href="#page_232">232</a>, <a href="#page_235">235</a>, <a href="#page_243">243</a>, <a href="#page_267">267</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dwarf, <a href="#page_233">233</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long-leaved, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_120">120</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_241">241</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Northern, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_67">67</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pitch, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_140">140</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Southern, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">White, <a href="#page_29">29</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yellow, <a href="#page_78">78</a>.</span><br /> - -Pineapple, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.<br /> - -<i>Pinguicula lutea</i>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>, <a href="#page_127">127</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Pumila</i>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>.</span><br /> - -Pipewort, <a href="#page_234">234</a>.<br /> - -Pipsissewa, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.<br /> - -Pizzarro, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Pitch, <a href="#page_278">278</a>, <a href="#page_280">280</a>, <a href="#page_282">282</a>, <a href="#page_286">286</a>.<br /> - -Plover, “kildeer,” <a href="#page_150">150</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Semi-palmated, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.</span><br /> - -Poinciana, royal, <a href="#page_248">248</a>.<br /> - -Poinsettias, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>.<br /> - -Polecat, <a href="#page_154">154</a>.<br /> - -Polypody, northern, <a href="#page_92">92</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Southern, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_100">100</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>.</span><br /> - -Ponce de Leon, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_307" id="page_307">{307}</a></span>Prancer, <a href="#page_88">88</a>.<br /> - -Prospero, <a href="#page_79">79</a>.<br /> - -Puck, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> - -Puritan, <a href="#page_63">63</a>.<br /> - -Pyrola, <a href="#page_46">46</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="Q" id="Q"></a></span>Q<br /> - -Quail, <a href="#page_184">184</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="R" id="R"></a></span>R<br /> - -Rabbit, cotton-tailed, <a href="#page_154">154</a>.<br /> - -Raccoon, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>, <a href="#page_225">225</a>, <a href="#page_227">227</a>.<br /> - -Rat, <a href="#page_155">155</a>, <a href="#page_192">192</a>.<br /> - -Rattlesnake, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>.<br /> - -Razorback, <a href="#page_81">81</a>, <a href="#page_84">84</a>, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_189">189</a>, <a href="#page_190">190</a>.<br /> - -Redbird, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_115">115</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.<br /> - -Resin, <a href="#page_278">278</a>.<br /> - -Revolution, <a href="#page_17">17</a>.<br /> - -Robin, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_11">11</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_126">126</a>, <a href="#page_195">195</a>, <a href="#page_196">196</a>.<br /> - -Roc, <a href="#page_243">243</a>.<br /> - -Rockledge, <a href="#page_178">178</a>.<br /> - -Rose, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_71">71</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bride, <a href="#page_256">256</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cherokee, <a href="#page_67">67</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_72">72</a>, <a href="#page_78">78</a>, <a href="#page_177">177</a>, <a href="#page_203">203</a>, <a href="#page_266">266</a>, <a href="#page_268">268</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Marechal Neil, <a href="#page_91">91</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tea, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_91">91</a>.</span><br /> - -Rubber tree, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.<br /> - -Rushes, <a href="#page_121">121</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="S" id="S"></a></span>S<br /> - -Saggitaria, <a href="#page_235">235</a>.<br /> - -Sanford, <a href="#page_255">255</a>, <a href="#page_256">256</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.<br /> - -Sanhedrim, <a href="#page_63">63</a>.<br /> - -Santa Claus, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_87">87</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>.<br /> - -Sargasso Sea, <a href="#page_118">118</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_308" id="page_308">{308}</a></span>Scudder, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Scutch, <a href="#page_50">50</a>.<br /> - -Sea trout, <a href="#page_149">149</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>.<br /> - -Sedge, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_68">68</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>.<br /> - -Senna, wild, <a href="#page_18">18</a>.<br /> - -Seminoles, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_94">94</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>, <a href="#page_255">255</a>.<br /> - -Sesbania, <a href="#page_71">71</a>.<br /> - -Shaddock, <a href="#page_200">200</a>.<br /> - -Shakespeare, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.<br /> - -Shrike, loggerhead, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_193">193</a>.<br /> - -Shrimp, <a href="#page_32">32</a>.<br /> - -Skipper, <a href="#page_16">16</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long-tailed, <a href="#page_15">15</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Silver-spotted, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> - -<i>Smilax auriculata</i>, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wild, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.</span><br /> - -Snakes:<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cobra, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Diamondback, <a href="#page_172">172</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gopher, <a href="#page_154">154</a>, <a href="#page_155">155</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Green, <a href="#page_210">210</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hog-nosed, <a href="#page_37">37</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indigo, <a href="#page_154">154</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Moccasin, cotton-mouthed, <a href="#page_173">173</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Water, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rattler, <a href="#page_85">85</a>, <a href="#page_172">172</a>, <a href="#page_174">174</a>.</span><br /> - -Snake bird, <a href="#page_150">150</a>.<br /> - -Snipe, <a href="#page_42">42</a>.<br /> - -Soudanese, <a href="#page_39">39</a>.<br /> - -South Beach, <a href="#page_87">87</a>.<br /> - -Spanish bayonets, <a href="#page_39">39</a>.<br /> - -Spanish Main, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.<br /> - -Spanish moss, <a href="#page_38">38</a>.<br /> - -“Spanish needles,” <a href="#page_211">211</a>.<br /> - -Sparrow, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chipping, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English, <a href="#page_2">2</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fox, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Song, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> - -Spice bush, <a href="#page_70">70</a>, <a href="#page_168">168</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_309" id="page_309">{309}</a></span>Spruce, <a href="#page_29">29</a>.<br /> - -St. Andrew’s cross, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.<br /> - -St. Augustine, <a href="#page_86">86</a>, <a href="#page_88">88</a>, <a href="#page_90">90</a>, <a href="#page_92">92</a>, <a href="#page_93">93</a>, <a href="#page_95">95</a>, <a href="#page_96">96</a>, <a href="#page_99">99</a>, <a href="#page_104">104</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_111">111</a>.<br /> - -St. Johns River, <a href="#page_7">7</a>, <a href="#page_9">9</a>, <a href="#page_12">12</a>, <a href="#page_23">23</a>, <a href="#page_27">27</a>, <a href="#page_28">28</a>, <a href="#page_31">31</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_49">49</a>, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_61">61</a>, <a href="#page_82">82</a>, <a href="#page_254">254</a>, <a href="#page_257">257</a>, <a href="#page_259">259</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>, <a href="#page_264">264</a>.<br /> - -St. Lucie River, <a href="#page_113">113</a>, <a href="#page_144">144</a>, <a href="#page_156">156</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_178">178</a>, <a href="#page_181">181</a>, <a href="#page_220">220</a>.<br /> - -St. Peter’s-wort, <a href="#page_78">78</a>.<br /> - -Stoll, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Stowe, Harriet Beecher, <a href="#page_61">61</a>.<br /> - -Stowe place, <a href="#page_73">73</a>, <a href="#page_74">74</a>.<br /> - -Strecker, <a href="#page_215">215</a>.<br /> - -Sugar cane, <a href="#page_1">1</a>, <a href="#page_101">101</a>, <a href="#page_105">105</a>.<br /> - -Sundew, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_124">124</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.<br /> - -Sumac, <a href="#page_10">10</a>, <a href="#page_52">52</a>.<br /> - -Swallow, chimney, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">White-bellied, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.</span><br /> - -Sweet potato, <a href="#page_16">16</a>, <a href="#page_17">17</a>, <a href="#page_19">19</a>, <a href="#page_76">76</a>.<br /> - -Sycamore, <a href="#page_57">57</a>, <a href="#page_109">109</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="T" id="T"></a></span>T<br /> - -Taine, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>.<br /> - -Tampa, <a href="#page_276">276</a>.<br /> - -Tanager, scarlet, <a href="#page_273">273</a>.<br /> - -Tarleton, <a href="#page_17">17</a>.<br /> - -Teach, <a href="#page_240">240</a>.<br /> - -Terebinthine tree, <a href="#page_278">278</a>.<br /> - -Thrush, hermit, <a href="#page_89">89</a>.<br /> - -Tiger swallowtail, <a href="#page_148">148</a>.<br /> - -Tillandsia, <a href="#page_116">116</a>.<br /> - -Titania, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> - -Titmouse, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tufted, <a href="#page_46">46</a>, <a href="#page_70">70</a>.</span><br /> - -Toad, tree, <a href="#page_47">47</a>.<br /> - -Tomato, <a href="#page_109">109</a>, <a href="#page_245">245</a>.<br /> - -Tomoka, <a href="#page_156">156</a>.<br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_310" id="page_310">{310}</a></span>Trade winds, <a href="#page_26">26</a>, <a href="#page_185">185</a>, <a href="#page_212">212</a>.<br /> - -Trinculo, <a href="#page_79">79</a>.<br /> - -Trinidad, <a href="#page_26">26</a>.<br /> - -Trout, <a href="#page_257">257</a>.<br /> - -Tuberose, <a href="#page_26">26</a>.<br /> - -Tupelo, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> - -Turkey, water, <a href="#page_159">159</a>, <a href="#page_160">160</a>, <a href="#page_161">161</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wild, <a href="#page_228">228</a>.</span><br /> - -Turpentine camp, <a href="#page_277">277</a>.<br /> - -Turtle, <a href="#page_159">159</a>.<br /> - -Twain, Mark, <a href="#page_269">269</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="U" id="U"></a></span>U<br /> - -Ulysses, <a href="#page_198">198</a>.<br /> - -<i>Utricularia</i>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>, <a href="#page_125">125</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Inflata</i>, <a href="#page_108">108</a>, <a href="#page_182">182</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Subulata</i>, <a href="#page_123">123</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Vulgaris</i>, <a href="#page_122">122</a>.</span><br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="V" id="V"></a></span>V<br /> - -Venus, <a href="#page_186">186</a>.<br /> - -Viburnum, <a href="#page_267">267</a>.<br /> - -Viceroy, <a href="#page_20">20</a>, <a href="#page_21">21</a>, <a href="#page_24">24</a>.<br /> - -<i>Viola blanda</i>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lanceolata</i>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> - -Violet, <a href="#page_64">64</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English, <a href="#page_91">91</a>, <a href="#page_176">176</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">White, <a href="#page_116">116</a>.</span><br /> - -Vireo, <a href="#page_272">272</a>.<br /> - -Virginia creeper, <a href="#page_53">53</a>, <a href="#page_54">54</a>.<br /> - -Vulture, black, <a href="#page_183">183</a>, <a href="#page_260">260</a>, <a href="#page_261">261</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="W" id="W"></a></span>W<br /> - -Warbler, <a href="#page_5">5</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>, <a href="#page_43">43</a>, <a href="#page_69">69</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Myrtle, <a href="#page_2">2</a>, <a href="#page_3">3</a>, <a href="#page_4">4</a>, <a href="#page_113">113</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pine, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wilson’s, <a href="#page_3">3</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_311" id="page_311">{311}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yellow-rump, <a href="#page_114">114</a>.</span><br /> - -Water hyacinth, <a href="#page_30">30</a>, <a href="#page_32">32</a>, <a href="#page_33">33</a>, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_37">37</a>.<br /> - -Water moccasin, <a href="#page_34">34</a>, <a href="#page_36">36</a>.<br /> - -White City, <a href="#page_112">112</a>, <a href="#page_163">163</a>.<br /> - -Whip-poor-will, southern, <a href="#page_274">274</a>.<br /> - -Willow, <a href="#page_114">114</a>, <a href="#page_116">116</a>, <a href="#page_145">145</a>, <a href="#page_146">146</a>, <a href="#page_158">158</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brittle, <a href="#page_147">147</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swamp, <a href="#page_115">115</a>.</span><br /> - -Wistaria, <a href="#page_15">15</a>.<br /> - -Woodpecker, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Partridge, <a href="#page_47">47</a>.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_312" id="page_312">{312}</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pileated, <a href="#page_160">160</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Red-bellied, <a href="#page_205">205</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Red-headed, <a href="#page_47">47</a>, <a href="#page_48">48</a>, <a href="#page_77">77</a>, <a href="#page_204">204</a>.</span><br /> - -Wren, Carolina, <a href="#page_69">69</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="Y" id="Y"></a></span>Y<br /> - -Yucca, <a href="#page_39">39</a>, <a href="#page_41">41</a>, <a href="#page_42">42</a>.<br /> - -<br /> -<span class="letra"><a name="Z" id="Z"></a></span>Z<br /> - -Zebra, <a href="#page_13">13</a>, <a href="#page_55">55</a>, <a href="#page_217">217</a>.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/back.jpg" width="371" height="550" alt="[Image -of the book's back-cover is unavailable.]" /> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLORIDA TRAILS AS SEEN FROM JACKSONVILLE TO KEY WEST AND FROM NOVEMBER TO APRIL INCLUSIVE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/back.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/back.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2ffe0cb..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/back.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4b00821..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i001_frontis.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i001_frontis.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 95e2c4b..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i001_frontis.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i002_title.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i002_title.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 90f46b9..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i002_title.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i003_page10.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i003_page10.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5681891..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i003_page10.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i004_page30.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i004_page30.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5b6de82..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i004_page30.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i005_page34.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i005_page34.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c970e66..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i005_page34.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i006_page50.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i006_page50.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 60ef1dd..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i006_page50.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i007_page58.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i007_page58.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7c7d3e0..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i007_page58.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i008_page78.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i008_page78.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3cfae79..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i008_page78.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i009_page84.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i009_page84.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fec1d15..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i009_page84.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i010_page88.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i010_page88.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 846b1be..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i010_page88.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i011_page92.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i011_page92.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 49473ce..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i011_page92.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i012_page94.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i012_page94.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3b4aa0d..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i012_page94.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i013_page102.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i013_page102.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3b983cb..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i013_page102.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i014_page106.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i014_page106.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 71dff2c..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i014_page106.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i015_page108.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i015_page108.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1d6f1b9..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i015_page108.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i016_page114.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i016_page114.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 322b6fa..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i016_page114.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i017_page118.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i017_page118.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 86617e5..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i017_page118.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i018_page124.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i018_page124.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 21265e2..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i018_page124.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i019_page134.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i019_page134.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0474761..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i019_page134.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i020_page138.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i020_page138.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5bde69f..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i020_page138.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i021_page144.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i021_page144.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c17d7f0..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i021_page144.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i022_page148.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i022_page148.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 57ee301..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i022_page148.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i023_page154.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i023_page154.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4cdf3bc..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i023_page154.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i024_page162.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i024_page162.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f34f75f..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i024_page162.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i025_page164.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i025_page164.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0fb7fe6..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i025_page164.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i026_page168.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i026_page168.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 93084e3..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i026_page168.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i027_page178.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i027_page178.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 21d95cd..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i027_page178.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i028_page192.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i028_page192.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index afb942d..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i028_page192.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i029_page198.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i029_page198.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 03cfd42..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i029_page198.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i030_page200.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i030_page200.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6da55a4..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i030_page200.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i031_page210.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i031_page210.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 082d801..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i031_page210.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i032_page212.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i032_page212.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ad64abd..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i032_page212.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i033_page222.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i033_page222.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 944e571..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i033_page222.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i034_page224.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i034_page224.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index de1e62d..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i034_page224.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i035_page232.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i035_page232.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 904ace6..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i035_page232.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i036_page234.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i036_page234.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 84a6eac..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i036_page234.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i037_page238.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i037_page238.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e30fce0..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i037_page238.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i038_page244.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i038_page244.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1a12d0b..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i038_page244.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i039_page248.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i039_page248.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 90f4fb4..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i039_page248.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i040_page250.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i040_page250.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 93e0cc3..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i040_page250.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66052-h/images/i041_page252.jpg b/old/66052-h/images/i041_page252.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index bdeadcf..0000000 --- a/old/66052-h/images/i041_page252.jpg +++ /dev/null |
