what in that country are called "pine barrens." In these districts, the
woods are rather thin, and the only trees that are seen in them are tall
pines of indifferent quality, beneath which is a growth of rank grass,
here and there mixed with low bushes, and sword-palmettoes. The soil is
of a sandy nature, mostly flat, and consequently either covered with
water during the rainy season, or parched in the summer or autumn,
although you meet at times with ponds of stagnant water, where the
cattle, which are abundant, allay their thirst, and around which resort
the various kinds of game found in these wilds.
The traveller, who has pursued his course for many miles over the
barrens, is suddenly delighted to see in the distance the appearance of
a dark "hummock" of live-oaks and other trees, seeming as if they had
been planted in the wilderness. As he approaches, the air feels cooler
and more salubrious, the song of numerous birds delights his ear, the
herbage assumes a more luxuriant appearance, the flowers become larger
and brighter, and a grateful fragrance is diffused around. These objects
contribute to refresh his mind, as much as the sight of the waters of
some clear spring gliding among the undergrowth seems already to allay
his thirst. Overhead festoons of innumerable vines, jessamines, and
bignonias, link each tree with those around it, their slender stems
being interlaced as if in mutual affection. No sooner, in the shade of
these beautiful woods, has the traveller finished his mid-day repast
than he perceives small parties of men lightly accoutred, and each
bearing an axe, approaching towards his resting-place. They exchange the
usual civilities, and immediately commence their labors, for they too
have just finished their meal.
I think I see them proceeding to their work. Here two have stationed
themselves on the opposite sides of the trunk of a noble and venerable
live-oak. Their keen-edged and well-tempered axes seem to make no
impression on it, so small are the chips that drop at each blow around
the mossy and wide-spreading roots. There, one is ascending the stem of
another, of which, in its fall, the arms have stuck among the tangled
tops of the neighboring trees. See how cautiously he proceeds,
barefooted, and with a handkerchief around his head. Now he has climbed
to the height of about forty feet from the ground; he stops, and
squaring himself with the trunk on which he so boldly stands, he wields
with sinewy arms his trusty blade, the repeated blows of which, although
the tree be as tough as it is large, will soon sever it in two. He has
changed sides, and his back is turned to you. The trunk now remains
connected only by a thin strip of wood. He places his feet on the part
which is lodged, and shakes it with all his might. Now swings the huge
log under his leaps, now it suddenly gives way, and as it strikes upon
the ground its echoes are repeated through the hummock, and every Wild
Turkey within hearing utters his gobble of recognition. The wood-cutter
however, remains collected and composed; but the next moment, he throws
his axe to the ground, and, assisted by the nearest grape-vine, slides
down and reaches the earth in an instant.
Several men approach and examine the prostrate trunk. They cut at both
its extremities, and sound the whole of its bark, to enable them to
judge if the tree has been attacked by the white rot. If such has
unfortunately been the case, there, for a century or more, this huge log
will remain until it gradually crumbles; but if not, and if it is free
of injury or "wind-shakes," while there is no appearance of the sap
having already ascended, and its pores are altogether sound, they
proceed to take its measurement. Its shape ascertained, and the timber
that is fit for use laid out by the aid of models, which, like fragments
of the skeleton of a ship, show the forms and sizes required, the
"hewers" commence their labors. Thus, reader, perhaps every known
hummock in the Floridas is annually attacked, and so often does it
happen that the white rot or some other disease has deteriorated the
quality of the timber, that the woods may be seen strewn with trunks
that have been found worthless, so that every year these valuable oaks
are becoming scarcer. The destruction of the young trees of this species
caused by the fall of the great trunks is of course immense, and as
there are no artificial plantations of these trees in our country,
before long a good-sized live-oak will be so valuable that its owner
will exact an enormous price for it, even while it yet stands in the
wood. In my opinion, formed on personal observation, live-oak hummocks
are _not quite_ so plentiful as they are represented to be, and of this
I will give you _one_ illustration.
On the 25th of February, 1832, I happened to be far up the St. John's
River in East Florida, in the company of a person employed by our
government in protecting the live-oaks of that section of the country,
and who received a good salary for his trouble. While we were proceeding
along one of the banks of that most singular stream, my companion
pointed out some large hummocks of dark-leaved trees on the opposite
side, which he said were entirely formed of live-oaks. I thought
differently, and as our controversy on the subject became a little warm,
I proposed that our men should row us to the place, where we might
examine the leaves and timber, and so decide the point. We soon landed,
but after inspecting the woods, not a single tree of the species did we
find, although there were thousands of large "swamp-oaks." My companion
acknowledged his mistake, and I continued to search for birds.
One dark evening as I was seated on the banks of this same river,
considering what arrangements I should make for the night, as it began
to rain in torrents, a man who happened to see me, came up and invited
me to go to his cabin, which he said was not far off. I accepted his
kind offer, and followed him to his humble dwelling. There I found his
wife, several children, and a number of men, who, as my host told me,
were, like himself, live-oakers. Supper was placed on a large table, and
on being desired to join the party, I willingly assented, doing my best
to diminish the contents of the tin pans and dishes set before the
company by the active and agreeable housewife. We then talked of the
country, its climate and productions, until a late hour, when we laid
ourselves down on Bears' skins, and reposed till daybreak.
I longed to accompany these hardy woodcutters to the hummock where they
were engaged in preparing live-oak timber for a man-of-war. Provided
with axes and guns, we left the house to the care of the wife and
children, and proceeded for several miles through a pine-barren, such as
I have attempted to describe. One fine Wild Turkey was shot, and when we
arrived at the _shanty_ put up near the hummock, we found another party
of wood-cutters waiting our arrival, before eating their breakfast,
already prepared by a negro man, to whom the Turkey was consigned to be
roasted for part of that day's dinner.
Our repast was an excellent one, and vied with a Kentucky breakfast;
beef, fish, potatoes, and other vegetables, were served up, with coffee
in tin cups, and plenty of biscuit. Every man seemed hungry and happy,
and the conversation assumed the most humorous character. The sun now
rose above the trees, and all, excepting the cook, proceeded to the
hummock, on which I had been gazing with great delight, as it promised
rare sport. My host, I found, was the chief of the party; and although
he also had an axe, he made no other use of it than for stripping here
and there pieces of bark from certain trees which he considered of
doubtful soundness. He was not only well versed in his profession, but
generally intelligent, and from him I received the following account,
which I noted at the time.
The men who are employed in cutting the live-oak, after having
discovered a good hummock, build shanties of small logs, to retire to at
night, and feed in by day. Their provisions consist of beef, pork,
potatoes, biscuit, flour, rice and fish, together with excellent
whiskey. They are mostly hale, strong, and active men, from the eastern
parts of the Union, and receive excellent wages, according to their
different abilities. Their labors are only of a few months' duration.
Such hummocks as are found near navigable streams are first chosen, and
when it is absolutely necessary, the timber is sometimes hauled five or
six miles to the nearest water-course, where, although it sinks, it can
with comparative ease, be shipped to its destination. The best time for
cutting the live-oak is considered to be from the first of December to
the beginning of March, or while the sap is completely down. When the
sap is flowing, the tree is "bloom," and more apt to be "shaken." The
white-rot, which occurs so frequently in the live-oak, and is
perceptible only by the best judges, consists of round spots, about an
inch and a half in diameter, on the outside of the bark, through which,
at that spot, a hard stick may be driven several inches, and generally
follows the heart up or down the trunk of the tree. So deceiving are
these spots and trees to persons unacquainted with this defect, that
thousands of trees are cut, and afterwards abandoned. The great number
of trees of this sort strewn in the woods would tend to make a stranger
believe that there is much more good oak in the country than there
really is; and perhaps, in reality, not more than one-fourth of the
quantity usually reported, is to be procured.
The live-oakers generally revisit their distant homes in the Middle and
Eastern Districts, where they spend the summer, returning to the
Floridas at the approach of winter. Some, however, who have gone there
with their families, remain for years in succession; although they
suffer much from the climate, by which their once good constitutions are
often greatly impaired. This was the case with the individual above
mentioned, from whom I subsequently received much friendly assistance in
my pursuits.
SPRING GARDEN
Having heard many wonderful accounts of a certain spring near the
sources of the St. John's River in East Florida, I resolved to visit it,
in order to judge for myself. On the 6th of January, 1832, I left the
plantation of my friend John Bulow, accompanied by an amiable and
accomplished Scotch gentleman, an engineer employed by the planters of
those districts in erecting their sugar-house establishments. We were
mounted on horses of the Indian breed, remarkable for their activity and
strength, and were provided with guns and some provisions. The weather
was pleasant, but not so our way, for no sooner had we left the "King's
Road," which had been cut by the Spanish government for a goodly
distance, than we entered a thicket of scrubby oaks, succeeded by a
still denser mass of low palmettoes, which extended about three miles,
and among the roots of which our nags had great difficulty in making
good their footing. After this we entered the pine barrens, so
extensively distributed in this portion of the Floridas. The sand seemed
to be all sand and nothing but sand, and the palmettoes at times so
covered the narrow Indian trail which we followed, that it required all
the instinct or sagacity of ourselves and our horses to keep it. It
seemed to us as if we were approaching the end of the world. The country
was perfectly flat, and, so far as we could survey it, presented the
same wild and scraggy aspect. My companion, who had travelled there
before, assured me that, at particular seasons of the year, he had
crossed the barrens when they were covered with water fully knee-deep,
when, according to his expression, they "looked most awful;" and I
readily believed him, as we now and then passed through muddy pools,
which reached the saddle-girths of our horses. Here and there large
tracts covered with tall grasses, and resembling the prairies of the
western wilds, opened to our view. Wherever the country happened to be
sunk a little beneath the general level, it was covered with cypress
trees, whose spreading arms were hung with a profusion of Spanish moss.
The soil in such cases consisted of black mud, and was densely covered
with bushes, chiefly of the Magnolia family.
We crossed in succession the heads of three branches of Haw Creek, of
which the waters spread from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, and
through which we made our way with extreme difficulty. While in the
middle of one, my companion told me that once, when in the very spot
where we then stood, his horse chanced to place his fore-feet on the
back of a large alligator, which, not well pleased at being disturbed in
his repose, suddenly raised his head, opened his monstrous jaws, and
snapped off part of the lips of the affrighted pony. You may imagine the
terror of the poor beast, which, however, after a few plunges, resumed
its course, and succeeded in carrying its rider through in safety. As a
reward for this achievement, it was ever after honored with the
appellation of "Alligator."
We had now travelled about twenty miles, and, the sun having reached the
zenith, we dismounted to partake of some refreshment. From a muddy pool
we contrived to obtain enough of tolerably clear water to mix with the
contents of a bottle, the like of which I would strongly recommend to
every traveller in these swampy regions; our horses, too, found
something to grind among the herbage that surrounded the little pool;
but as little time was to be lost, we quickly remounted, and resumed our
disagreeable journey, during which we had at no time proceeded at a rate
exceeding two miles and a half in the hour.
All at once, however, a wonderful change took place:--the country became
more elevated and undulating; the timber was of a different nature, and
consisted of red and live-oaks, magnolias, and several kinds of pine.
Thousands of "Mole-hills," or the habitations of an animal here called
"the Salamander," and "Gopher's burrows" presented themselves to the
eye, and greatly annoyed our horses, which now and then sank to the
depth of a foot, and stumbled at the risk of breaking their legs, and
what we considered fully as valuable, our necks. We now saw beautiful
lakes of the purest water, and passed along a green space, having a
series of them on each side of us. These sheets of water became larger
and more numerous the farther we advanced--some of them extending to a
length of several miles, and having a depth of from two to twenty feet
of clear water; but their shores being destitute of vegetation, we
observed no birds near them. Many tortoises, however, were seen basking
in the sun, and all, as we approached, plunged into the water. Not a
trace of man did we observe during our journey, scarcely a bird, and not
a single quadruped, not even a Rat; nor can one imagine a poorer and
more desolate country than that which lies between the Halifax River,
which we had left in the morning, and the undulating grounds at which we
had now arrived.
But at length we perceived the tracks of living beings, and soon after
saw the huts of Colonel Rees's negroes. Scarcely could ever African
traveller have approached the city of Timbuctoo with more excited
curiosity than we felt in approaching this plantation. Our Indian horses
seemed to participate in our joy, and trotted at a smart rate towards
the principal building, at the door of which we leaped from our saddles,
just as the sun was withdrawing his ruddy light. Colonel Rees was at
home, and received us with great kindness. Refreshments were immediately
placed before us, and we spent the evening in agreeable conversation.
The next day I walked over the plantation, and examining the country
around, found the soil of good quality, it having been reclaimed from
swampy ground of a black color, rich, and very productive. The greater
part of the cultivated land was on the borders of a lake, which
communicates with others, leading to the St. John's River, distant about
seven miles, and navigable so far by vessels not exceeding fifty or
sixty tons. After breakfast, our amiable host showed us the way to the
celebrated spring, the sight of which afforded me pleasure sufficient to
counterbalance the tediousness of my journey.
This spring presents a circular basin, having a diameter of about sixty
feet, from the centre of which the water is thrown up with great force,
although it does not rise to a height of more than a few inches above
the general level. A kind of whirlpool is formed, on the edges of which
are deposited vast quantities of shells, with pieces of wood, gravel,
and other substances, which have coalesced into solid masses, having a
very curious appearance. The water is quite transparent, although of a
dark color, but so impregnated with sulphur that it emits an odor which
to me was highly nauseous. Its surface lies fifteen or twenty feet below
the level of the woodland lakes in the neighborhood, and its depth, in
the autumnal months, is about seventeen feet, when the water is lowest.
In all the lakes, the same species of shell as those thrown up by the
spring, occur in abundance, and it seems more than probable that it is
formed of the water collected from them by infiltration, or forms the
subterranean outlet of some of them. The lakes themselves are merely
reservoirs, containing the residue of the waters which fall during the
rainy seasons, and contributing to supply the waters of the St. John's
River, with which they all seem to communicate by similar means. This
spring pours its waters into "Rees's Lake," through a deep and broad
channel called Spring Garden Creek. This channel is said to be in some
places fully sixty feet deep, but it becomes more shallow as you
advance towards the entrance of the lake, at which you are surprised to
find yourself on a mud-flat covered only by about fifteen inches of
water, under which the depositions from the spring lie to a depth of
four or five feet in the form of the softest mud, while under this again
is a bed of fine white sand. When this mud is stirred up by the oars of
your boat or otherwise, it appears of a dark-green color, and smells
strongly of sulphur. At all times it sends up numerous bubbles of air,
which probably consist of suphuretted hydrogen gas.
The mouth of this curious spring is calculated to be two and a half feet
square; and the velocity of its water, during the rainy season, is three
feet per second. This would render the discharge per hour about 499,500
gallons. Colonel Rees showed us the remains of another spring of the
same kind, which had dried up from some natural cause.
My companion, the engineer, having occupation for another day, I
requested Colonel Rees to accompany me in his boat towards the river St.
John's, which I was desirous of seeing, as well as the curious country
in its neighborhood. He readily agreed, and after an early breakfast
next morning, we set out, accompanied by two servants to manage the
boat. As we crossed Rees's Lake, I observed that its northeastern shores
were bounded by a deep swamp, covered by a rich growth of tall
cypresses, while the opposite side presented large marshes and islands
ornamented by pines, live-oaks, and orange-trees. With the exception of
a very narrow channel, the creek was covered with nympheae, and in its
waters swam numerous Alligators, while Ibises, Gallinules, Anhingas,
Coots, and Cormorants were seen pursuing their avocations on its surface
or along its margins. Over our heads the Fish Hawks were sailing, and on
the broken trees around we saw many of their nests.
We followed Spring Garden Creek for about two miles and a half, and
passed a mud bar, before we entered "Dexter's Lake." The bar was stuck
full of unios, in such profusion that each time the negroes thrust their
hands into the mud they took up several. According to their report these
shell-fish are quite unfit for food. In this lake the water had changed
its hue, and assumed a dark chestnut color, although it was still
transparent. The depth was very uniformly five feet, and the extent of
the lake was about eight miles by three. Having crossed it we followed
the creek, and soon saw the entrance of Woodruff's Lake, which empties
its still darker waters into the St. John's River.
I here shot a pair of curious Ibises, which you will find described in
my fourth volume, and landed on a small island covered with wild orange
trees, the luxuriance and freshness of which were not less pleasing to
the sight than the perfume of their flowers was to the smell. The group
seemed to me like a rich bouquet formed by nature to afford consolation
to the weary traveller, cast down by the dismal scenery of swamps and
pools and rank grass around him. Under the shade of these beautiful
evergreens, and amidst the golden fruits that covered the ground, while
the Humming-birds fluttered over our heads, we spread our cloth on the
grass, and with a happy and thankful heart, I refreshed myself with the
bountiful gifts of an ever-careful Providence. Colonel Rees informed me
that this charming retreat was one of the numerous _terrae incognitae_ of
this region of lakes, and that it should henceforth bear the name of
"Audubon's Isle."
In conclusion, let me inform you that the spring has been turned to good
account by my generous host, Colonel Rees, who, aided by my amiable
companion, the engineer, has directed its current so as to turn a mill,
which suffices to grind the whole of his sugar-cane.
DEATH OF A PIRATE
In the calm of a fine moonlight night, as I was admiring the beauty of
the clear heavens, and the broad glare of light that glanced from the
trembling surface of the waters around, the officer on watch came up and
entered into conversation with me. He had been a turtler in other years,
and a great hunter to boot, and although of humble birth and
pretensions, energy and talent, aided by education, had raised him to a
higher station. Such a man could not fail to be an agreeable companion,
and we talked on various subjects, principally, you may be sure, birds
and other natural productions. He told me he once had a disagreeable
adventure, when looking out for game, in a certain cove on the shores of
the Gulf of Mexico; and, on my expressing a desire to hear it, he
willingly related to me the following particulars, which I give you,
not, perhaps, precisely in his own words, but as nearly so as I can
remember.
"Towards evening, one quiet summer day, I chanced to be paddling along
a sandy shore, which I thought well fitted for my repose, being
covered with tall grass, and as the sun was not many degrees above the
horizon, I felt anxious to pitch my mosquito bar or net, and spend the
night in this wilderness. The bellowing notes of thousands of
bull-frogs in a neighboring swamp might lull me to rest, and I looked
upon the flocks of Blackbirds that were assembling as sure companions
in this secluded retreat.
"I proceeded up a little stream, to insure the safety of my canoe from
any sudden storm, when, as I gladly advanced, a beautiful yawl came
unexpectedly in view. Surprised at such a sight in a part of the
country then scarcely known, I felt a sudden check in the circulation
of my blood. My paddle dropped from my hands, and fearfully indeed, as
I picked it up, did I look towards the unknown boat. On reaching it, I
saw its sides marked with stains of blood, and looking with anxiety
over the gunwale, I perceived, to my horror, two human bodies covered
with gore. Pirates or hostile Indians, I was persuaded, had
perpetrated the foul deed, and my alarm naturally increased; my heart
fluttered, stopped, and heaved with unusual tremors, and I looked
towards the setting sun in consternation and despair. How long my
reveries lasted I cannot tell; I can only recollect that I was roused
from them by the distant groans of one apparently in mortal agony. I
felt as if refreshed by the cold perspiration that oozed from every
pore, and I reflected that though alone, I was well armed, and might
hope for the protection of the Almighty.
"Humanity whispered to me that, if not surprised and disabled, I might
render assistance to some sufferer, or even be the means of saving a
useful life. Buoyed up by this thought, I urged my canoe on shore, and
seizing it by the bow, pulled it at one spring high among the grass.