I see us next at the little inland settlement surrounding two small
lakes for which we had started.
It had been long years since we had seen the relative who was living
there, and childish memories did not tell us that he was the most
visionary and unpractical of men. We could not trust our own judgment in
such a topsy-turvy country as Florida, where the conditions were all so
new to us; so it is no wonder that we took his word for a number of wild
statements and decided to buy and settle there. We bought a tract of
land from a friend and client of his, who offered us the use of a small
homestead shanty near our land, to live in while we were building. This
shanty looked decidedly uninviting, but the alternative was a room in
the house of our relative, a full mile away from our place; so we
decided in favor of the shanty. It was built of rived boards, slabs
split out of the native logs. It had one door and no windows. In fact,
it needed none; for the boards lapped roughly on each other, leaving
cracks like those in window-blinds, so we could put our fingers through
the walls almost anywhere. Besides affording a means of light and
ventilation, this was vastly convenient for various flying and creeping
things. The floor was of rough ten-inch boards, with inch-wide cracks
between them. Julius escorted me over to inspect it, saying,--
"If we try to live in this excuse for a house, we shall be pioneering
with a vengeance."
After a searching glance around the premises, I answered,--
"The pioneering is all right, if we can just make it clean."
"Oh, that's easy enough!" exclaimed Julius, in a relieved tone. "If you
think we can stand its other short-comings, I can whitewash the whole
thing, and make it so fresh and sweet you won't know it."
We sent a message for our freight, which we had left at Jacksonville,
and Julius took a team to the nearest town to buy a few necessaries. We
had brought no furniture South with us, knowing that what we had in our
Northern home would be unsuitable for pioneering. Our freight,
therefore, was mostly books and pictures, with a few boxes of clothes,
bedding, etc. The shanty was wonderfully improved by a coat or two of
whitewash, and after an old tapestry carpet had been put down to cover
the cracks in the floor, extending up on the walls to form a dado, it
began to look quite livable.
The bed and a row of trunks filled one end, there being just room to
squeeze in between them. At the foot of the bed was a table, used by
turns as kitchen, dining, and library table; there was also a box
holding a kerosene stove, with shelves above it for dishes and supplies.
We had two wooden chairs, and a bench which we put to various uses. When
these things were all in place, and our books arranged on boards which
were laid across the rafters overhead, we felt as snug as was Robinson
Crusoe in his cave.
As soon as we were comfortable, Julius got a man to help him, and began
to improve our land. A few of the large pine-trees had to be felled, and
this performance filled Bruno with the wildest excitement. His natural
instincts told him there was only one reason for which a tree should
ever be cut,--to capture some wild creature which had taken refuge in
its top. At the first blow of the axe he would begin to yelp and dance,
breaking into still wilder antics when the tree began to sway and
stagger, finally rushing into the top as it fell, in a state of
excitement that bordered on frenzy.
As he, of course, found nothing there, he seemed to think he had not
been quick enough, and that the creature had escaped; so he became more
and more reckless, until Julius was alarmed for his safety, and said I
must keep him shut in-doors till the trees were down, or he would surely
end by being crushed.
I had my hands full. I would coax him in, and shut the door. As soon as
he heard the chopping begin, he would whine and bark, coaxing to be let
out. I always temporized until I heard the tree falling, then off he
would dash, and bounce into its top to yelp and explore.
He never found anything in the trees, but he never grew discouraged. He
"assisted" at the felling of every one.
Bruno was much happier in Florida than he had been in our Northern home.
He had all the woods to stretch his legs in, and for amusement he had
the different kinds of wild creatures.
One moonlight night we three had walked over to the post-office for the
mail. As Julius and I were slowly sauntering homeward, enjoying the
night air, while Bruno made little excursions in all directions, he
suddenly came up in front of us, and paused in that questioning way
which showed he had found something of which he was not quite sure.
"What is it, Boonie?" asked Julius.
Bruno made a short run, then came back, pausing as before, and glancing
first in the direction he had started to go, then at Julius.
"It is probably a 'possum," I suggested.
Bruno had shown himself to be very careful about attacking strange
animals. He seemed to remember our adventure with the hens, his first
meeting with Rebecca, and some of his other experiences.
Julius answered his evident question with,--
"Yes. It's Boonie's 'possum. Go get him!"
Off he sprang, dashing into a little clump of trees, about a bow-shot
from us, then with a yelp retreated, throwing himself on the ground,
uttering short cries, rubbing and rooting his nose down into the grass
and sand. Alas, poor Bruno! We knew what it was. We did not see it, we
did not hear it, but we knew. He felt that he had been a victim of
misplaced confidence; but we suffered with him, for it was days before
he got rid of the "bouquet." Then it was as if by an inspiration. He
seemed, all at once, to remember something. There was a tiny lake near
our place, that was going dry. Day by day its waters had receded, until
it was a mere mud-hole. Bruno went down to it, and buried himself up to
the eyes in the black mud.
He lay there until late afternoon, then trotted off to a wet lake near
by, and took a thorough bath. With this, he regained his lost
self-respect, but he never forgot the experience. It was only necessary
to say,--
"Kitty, kitty, where's kitty?" to make his ears and tail droop in the
most dejected manner; then he would creep away, out of sight, till some
more agreeable topic of conversation was broached.
It was not strange, after such a trying adventure, that Bruno was rather
timid about approaching "Br'er 'Possum" when he did meet him. One night,
he was found lurking around outside, sniffing some odds and ends that
Bruno had disdained. After a little urging, Bruno was induced to seize
him. Finding that nothing unpleasant followed, he became from that
moment an enthusiastic 'possum-hunter, and used to bring one in every
night or two. I usually cooked them for him, and he ate them with a
relish, which we thought was fortunate, as we were about twelve miles
from a butcher. Another substitute for beef we found in the Florida
gopher. This is a grass-eating tortoise, which digs a house for itself
in the sand.
Bruno soon became a most ardent gopher-hunter. Their hard shells make
them difficult to handle, as they promptly draw in the head and legs on
being approached; so Bruno would nose one over until he could seize the
shovel, a protruding piece of the lower shell. Getting this small bit
between his side-teeth, he balanced the weight by holding his head
stiffly sideways, and came trotting in. The shadow of the house reached,
he dropped the gopher, carefully turning it over on its back, and lay
down beside it, to cool off and rest. Then off he would go for another.
He kept this up day after day, sometimes having as many as a dozen
around the place at once. As often as the creatures managed to flop over
so they could use their feet again and start to escape, Bruno, yelping
and barking, brought them back, and turned them on their backs.
Sometimes, when he returned after a protracted hunt, bringing in a fresh
victim, he found several of them escaping at once. Then he would
hurriedly drop his latest catch, to speed away, tracking the truants
until they were all found and recaptured, to be brought back and nosed
over again.
He never wearied of this sport, and after our house was finished, and a
well-stocked "chicken-park" was added to our estate, we bought a large
camp-kettle, which we arranged on bricks in a secluded place; in this we
would heat water and cook Bruno's gophers, so that he and the hens had
constant feasts of them and throve apace.