Just outside the orangery was one of those singular formations--
peculiar, I believe, to Florida.
A circular basin, like a vast sugar-pan, opens into the earth, to the
depth of many feet, and having a diameter of forty yards or more. In
the bottom of this, several cavities are seen, about the size and of the
appearance of dug wells, regularly cylindrical--except where their sides
have fallen in, or the rocky partition between them has given way, in
which case they resemble a vast honeycomb with broken cells.
The wells are sometimes found dry; but more commonly there is water in
the bottom, and often filling the great tank itself.
Such natural reservoirs, although occurring in the midst of level
plains, are always partially surrounded by eminences--knolls, and
detached masses of testaceous rocks; all of which are covered by an
evergreen thicket of native trees, as _magnolia grandiflora_, red bay,
_zanthoxylon_, live-oak, mulberry, and several species of fan-palms
(palmettoes). Sometimes these shadowy coverts are found among the trees
of the pine-forests, and sometimes they appear in the midst of green
savannas, like islets in the ocean.
They constitute the "hommocks" of Florida--famed in the story of its
Indian wars.
One of these, then, was situated just outside the orangery; with groups
of testaceous rocks forming a half-circle around its edge; and draped
with the dark foliage of evergreen trees, of the species already
mentioned. The water contained in the basin was sweet and limpid; and
far down in its crystal depths might be seen gold and red fish, with
yellow bream, spotted bass, and many other beautiful varieties of the
finny tribe, disporting themselves all day long. The tank was in
reality a natural fishpond; and, moreover, it was used as the family
bathing-place--for, under the hot sun of Florida, the bath is a
necessity as well as a luxury.
From the house, it was approached by a sanded walk that led across the
orangery, and some large stone-flags enabled the bather to descend
conveniently into the water. Of course, only the white members of the
family were allowed the freedom of this charming sanctuary.
Outside the hommock extended the fields under cultivation, until bounded
in the distance by tall forests of cypress and white cedar--a sort of
impenetrable morass that covered the country for miles beyond.
On one side of the plantation-fields was a wide plain, covered with
grassy turf, and without enclosure of any kind. This was the _savanna_,
a natural meadow where the horses and cattle of the plantation were
freely pastured. Deer often appeared upon this plain, and flocks of the
wild turkey.
I was just of that age to be enamoured of the chase. Like most youth of
the southern states who have little else to do, hunting was my chief
occupation; and I was passionately fond of it. My father had procured
for me a brace of splendid greyhounds; and it was a favourite pastime
with me to conceal myself in the hommock, wait for the deer and turkeys
as they approached, and then course them across the savanna. In this
manner I made many a capture of both species of game; for the wild
turkey can easily be run down with fleet dogs.
The hour at which I was accustomed to enjoy this amusement was early in
the morning, before any of the family were astir. That was the best
time to find the game upon the savanna.
One morning, as usual, I repaired to my stand in the covert. I climbed
upon a rock, whose flat top afforded footing both to myself and my dogs.
From this elevated position I had the whole plain under view, and could
observe any object that might be moving upon it, while I was myself
secure from observation. The broad leaves of the magnolia formed a
bower around me, leaving a break in the foliage, through which I could
make my reconnoissance.
On this particular morning I had arrived before sunrise. The horses
were still in their stables, and the cattle in the enclosure. Even by
the deer, the savanna was untenanted, as I could perceive at the first
glance. Over all its wide extent not an antler was to be seen.
I was somewhat disappointed on observing this. My mother expected a
party upon that day. She had expressed a wish to have venison at
dinner: I had promised her she should have it; and on seeing the savanna
empty, I felt disappointment.
I was a little surprised, too; the sight was unusual. Almost every
morning, there were deer upon this wide pasture, at one point or
another.
Had some early stalker been before me? Probable enough. Perhaps young
Ringgold from the next plantation; or maybe one of the Indian hunters,
who seemed never to sleep? Certainly, some one had been over the
ground, and frightened off the game?
The savanna was a free range, and all who chose might hunt or pasture
upon it. It was a tract of common ground, belonging to no one of the
plantations--government land not yet purchased.
Certainly Ringgold had been there? or old Hickman, the alligator-hunter,
who lived upon the skirt of our plantation? or it might be an Indian
from the other side of the swamp?
With such conjectures did I account for the absence of the game.
I felt chagrin. I should not be able to keep my promise; there would be
no venison for dinner. A turkey I might obtain; the hour for chasing
them had not yet arrived. I could hear them calling from the tall
tree-tops--their loud "gobbling" borne far and clear upon the still air
of the morning. I did not care for these--the larder was already
stocked with them; I had killed a brace on the preceding day. I did not
want more--I wanted venison.
To procure it, I must needs try some other mode than coursing. I had my
rifle with me; I could try a "still-hunt" in the woods. Better still, I
would go in the direction of old Hickman's cabin; he might help me in my
dilemma. Perhaps he had been out already? if so, he would be sure to
bring home venison. I could procure a supply from him, and keep my
promise.--The sun was just shewing his disc above the horizon; his rays
were tingeing the tops of the distant cypresses, whose light-green
leaves shone with the lines of gold.
I gave one more glance over the savanna, before descending from my
elevated position; in that glance I saw what caused me to change my
resolution, and remain upon the rock.
A herd of deer was trooping out from the edge of the cypress woods--at
that corner where the rail-fence separated the savanna from the
cultivated fields.
"Ha!" thought I, "they have been poaching upon the young maize-plants."
I bent my eyes towards the point whence, as I supposed, they had issued
from the fields. I knew there was a gap near the corner, with movable
bars. I could see it from where I stood, but I now perceived that the
bars were in their places! The deer could not have been in the fields
then? It was not likely they had leaped either the bars or the fence.
It was a high rail-fence, with "stakes and riders." The bars were as
high as the fence. The deer must have come out of the woods?
This observation was instantly followed by another. The animals were
running rapidly, as if alarmed by the presence of some enemy.
A hunter is behind them? Old Hickman? Ringgold? Who?
I gazed eagerly, sweeping my eyes along the edge of the timber, but for
a while saw no one.
"A lynx or a bear may have startled them? If so, they will not go far;
I shall have a chance with my greyhounds yet. Perhaps--"
My reflections were brought to a sudden termination, on perceiving what
had caused the stampede of the deer. It was neither bear nor lynx, but
a human being.
A man was just emerging from out the dark shadow of the cypresses. The
sun as yet only touched the tops of the trees; but there was light
enough below to enable me to make out the figure of a man--still more,
to recognise the individual. It was neither Ringgold nor Hickman, nor
yet an Indian. The dress I knew well--the blue cottonade trousers, the
striped shirt, and palmetto hat. The dress was that worn by our
woodman. The man was Yellow Jake.