I assured her and the other terror-stricken darkies that no harm
would befall them provided they did not approach too near. Turning to
the fat woman, I asked: "When did you leave Kentucky, Auntie?"
"Good Lawd, mistah! How'd yo' know I fum Kaintucky? You must be cunjah
man."
[Sidenote: Old Kentucky]
"Why, Auntie, as soon as you opened your mouth I knew you were from
Kentucky; I'm from Kentucky myself," I answered.
"'Deed, honey, I'm pow'ful glad to see yo'," she said. "Why, dar's lots
o' people fum Kaintucky up to Naples. Kurnel Haldeman and Gen'l Sarah
Gordon Williams is bofe dar; and Miss Rose, Pres'dent Grove Cleveland's
sistah, she dar, too, at de hotel." Then she added, "I'm de cook for
Miss Lizzie M'Laughlin; she keeps de hotel."
[Sidenote: A Good Catch]
It seemed that the cook and her party had come down to the pass to fish,
but as I gave them more fish than they really needed, they concluded to
return at once to Naples, especially as the jolly cook declared that,
"Dat debblefish dun spile my appetite fo' fishin'."
I handed my card to her, with the request that she take it to Colonel
Haldeman, or General "Cerro Gordo" Williams. They departed in great
glee, but with furtive glances at the devil-fish on the beach. As they
started off, the corpulent cook shouted:
[Sidenote: A True Angler]
"Good-by, mistah; hopes to see you soon. Say, mistah, we all's gwine to
'tend lak we cotch all dese fish wid we all's fish lines."
"All right, Auntie, I will not give you away," I replied.
She evidently had one of the qualifications of the true angler.
[Sidenote: The Founder of Naples]
Late in the afternoon I saw a lady and a gentleman coming down the beach
in a handsome carriage, drawn by a pair of trim-looking mules. I soon
recognized Col. W. N. Haldeman, of the Louisville _Courier-Journal_, and
his good wife. Col. Haldeman was the founder of Naples, where he had a
charming winter home. (His sad death through a trolley-car accident will
long be regretted and mourned by his many friends.)
[Sidenote: A Kentucky Welcome]
The Colonel and his lady insisted on my dining with them that evening. I
pleaded that I had nothing to wear but outing clothes, and was not
presentable. They would not be refused, however, the Colonel saying that
it was their first drive in the carriage, which had been on its way six
weeks from Louisville, and that Mrs. Haldeman had honored me by coming
herself to invite me. Of course, I had to accept their kind invitation,
as I could proffer no more excuses, and especially as the Colonel
promised me a real Kentucky dinner; that settled it. We had a delightful
drive up the beach on the hard sand at low tide, and the dinner was to
the queen's taste: Oyster soup, baked redfish, venison steak, and the
Kentucky feature, a roast 'possum with a lemon in its mouth.
[Sidenote: Moonlight Ride by the Sea]
After a most enjoyable evening with a happy company, myself and one of
my darkey acquaintances of the morning mounted two saddle mules for a
moonlight midnight ride down the beach to the pass. It was a high,
spring tide, compelling us to occasionally abandon the beach where
covered with water, and take to the scrub, much to the evident fear of
the negro, who, I soon discovered, was very timid and superstitious. He
started at every sound in the still night--the puffing of a porpoise in
the water or a 'coon or 'possum scurrying through the thick scrub or the
weird cry of a night bird caused him to blench with evident fear and
trembling. At the leap of a large fish, a tarpon or jewfish, that struck
the water with a resounding splash, he whispered:
"Doctah, was dat a debblefish?"
"It might have been," I replied.
[Illustration: Manatee. (_Trichechus latirostris._)]
[Sidenote: Voices of the Night]
Just then a bull alligator in the bayou back of the beach emitted a
terrible roar, followed by the discordant cries of all sorts of
waterfowl; and, as it happened, some large animal, a horse or cow, or
perhaps a deer, fled at our approach and crashed through the scrub.
Altogether the various sounds were somewhat appalling, and calculated to
alarm and distress a more courageous person. At last we reached the
pass, and my boat, with its white canvas roof glaring in the light of
the full moon, broke on the gaze of the astonished darkey through the
trees, and as it moved this way and that, responsive to a slight breeze,
it seemed an uncanny thing to the thoroughly frightened man as he
moaned:
[Sidenote: Spooks and Devils]
"O Lawd; O Lawd; dar's a spook! De debble will sho' cotch me. I wish I
was back in ole Kaintuck. Oh, doctah, I sho' am 'fraid to go back
to-night. I sho' saw de debble's eye shinin' in de bresh, and heard de
splash of his tail in de watah, all de way down. Please, sah, let me
stay in de camp till de mawnin'."
I saw that he was really terrified, and that it would never do to let
him attempt to return to Naples alone that night. Accordingly we
hobbled the mules, and I made him a bed in the boat, where he soon was
snoring and making as loud and uncouth noises as any "debble" was
capable of. In the morning I gave him a good breakfast and started him
home with the mules, the happiest coon in Florida.
[Sidenote: Florida Up to Date]
I have not been in Florida since the winter of 1896-7, but even then it
had greatly changed from the old Florida I knew as far back as 1878. At
the present day my old cruising and camping grounds near Rockledge, Lake
Worth and Miami are famous winter resorts, with large and commodious
hotels whose luxurious appointments and service are unsurpassed in the
world.
Both the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, as well as the interior of the
State, are now well-populated by Northern people, mostly engaged in
raising sub-tropical fruits and early vegetables. Marshy lands, once
the resort of innumerable water-fowl, have been drained and cultivated.
The pine forests and flat woods where once the cowboy reigned supreme,
and where the deer and wild turkey roamed at will, have been decimated
or destroyed by sawmills and turpentine stills. The rookeries of the
cypress swamps and wooded keys have been laid waste by the plume
hunter, so that the flamingo, pink curlew and egret are now but empty
sounding names.
[Illustration: Devil Fish. (_Manta birostris._)]
But while the greed and improvidence of commercial fishermen have
greatly reduced the numbers of not only mullet, but redfish,
sheepshead, sea-trout and other bay fishes, there still remains the
best and most varied fishing in the world for the angler who cares more
for real sport than a big creel.
[Sidenote: Fishing Galore]
In the brackish bays the channel bass, cavalla, snook, sea-trout,
croaker, sailor's choice, etc., will furnish all the sport, either with
bait or fly, that the reasonable angler can desire. So, also, at the
inlets and passes he may enjoy the matchless sport afforded by the
ladyfish and ten-pounder. Along the reefs and keys at the end of the
peninsula he may troll or cast his lure for the kingfish, Spanish
mackerel, amber jack and bonito. Along the rocky shores the groupers and
large snappers will freely respond to his baited hook, while in the
channels about the keys those beautiful pan-fish, the grunts, porgies,
snappers and other fishes of the coral banks, may be taken _ad libitum_.