rum and water, with a corn-dodger and the rising sun, soon stirred us,
and with a fair wind we made a good day's run,--some thirty-five miles.
Except the ruins of two huts, there was no sign that a human being had
ever visited these waters; for the war and the occasional visit of a
gunboat had driven off the few settlers. The river gradually became
narrower and more tortuous as we approached its head waters. The banks
are generally low, with a few sandy elevations, thickly wooded or
swampy. Occasionally we passed a small opening, or savanna, on which
were sometimes feeding a herd of wild cattle and deer; at the latter we
had several potshots, all wide. Alligators, as immovable as the logs on
which they rested, could be counted by hundreds, and of all sizes up to
twelve or fifteen feet. Occasionally, as we passed uncomfortably near,
we could not resist, even with our scant supply of ammunition, giving
them a little cold lead between the head and shoulders, the only
vulnerable place. With a fair wind we sailed the twelve miles across
Lake Monroe, a pretty sheet of water, the deserted huts of Enterprise
and Mellonville on each side. Above the lake the river became still
narrower and more tortuous, dividing sometimes into numerous branches,
most of which proved to be mere _culs-de-sac_. The long moss, reaching
from the overhanging branches to the water, gave to the surroundings a
most weird and funereal aspect.
On May 29 we reached Lake Harney, whence we determined to make the
portage to Indian River. O'Toole was sent to look for some means of
moving our boat. He returned next day with two small black bulls yoked
to a pair of wheels such as are used by lumbermen. Their owner was a
compound of Caucasian, African, and Indian, with the shrewdness of the
white, the good temper of the negro, and the indolence of the red man.
He was at first exorbitant in his demands; but a little money, some
tobacco, and a spare fowling-piece made him happy, and he was ready to
let us drive his beasts to the end of the peninsula. It required some
skill to mount the boat securely on the wheels and to guard against any
upsets or collisions, for our escape depended upon carrying it safely
across.
The next morning we made an early start. Our course was an easterly one,
through a roadless, flat, sandy pine-barren, with an occasional thicket
and swamp. From the word "go" trouble with the bulls began. Their owner
seemed to think that in furnishing them he had fulfilled his part of the
contract. They would neither "gee" nor "haw"; if one started ahead, the
other would go astern. If by accident they started ahead together, they
would certainly bring up with their heads on each side of a tree.
Occasionally they would lie down in a pool to get rid of the flies, and
only by the most vigorous prodding could they be induced to move.
Paul, the owner, would loiter in the rear, but was always on hand when
we halted for meals. Finally we told him, "No work, no grub; no drive
bulls, no tobacco." This roused him to help us. Two days were thus
occupied in covering eighteen miles. It would have been less labor to
have tied the beasts, put them into the boat, and hauled it across the
portage. The weather was intensely hot, and our time was made miserable
by day with sand-flies, and by night with mosquitos.
The waters of Indian River were a most welcome sight, and we hoped that
most of our troubles were over. Paul and his bulls of Bashan were gladly
dismissed to the wilderness. Our first care was to make good any defects
in our boat: some leaks were stopped by a little calking and pitching.
Already our supply of provisions began to give us anxiety: only bacon
and sweet potatoes remained. The meal was wet and worthless, and, what
was worse, all our salt had dissolved. However, with the waters alive
with fish, and some game on shore, we hoped to pull through.
We reached Indian River, or lagoon, opposite Cape Carnaveral. It extends
along nearly the entire eastern coast of Florida, varying in width from
three to six miles, and is separated from the Atlantic by a narrow sand
ridge, which is pierced at different points by shifting inlets. It is
very shoal, so much so that we were obliged to haul our boat out nearly
half a mile before she would float, and the water is teeming with
stingarees, sword-fish, crabs, etc. But once afloat, we headed to the
southward with a fair wind.
For four days we continued to make good progress, taking advantage of
every fair wind by night as well as by day. Here, as on the St. John's
River, the same scene of desolation as far as human beings were
concerned was presented. We passed a few deserted cabins, around which
we were able to obtain a few cocoanuts and watermelons, a most welcome
addition to our slim commissariat. Unfortunately, oranges were not in
season. Whenever the breeze left us the heat was almost suffocating;
there was no escape for it. If we landed, and sought any shade, the
mosquitos would drive us at once to the glare of the sun. When sleeping
on shore, the best protection was to bury ourselves in the sand, with
cap drawn down over the head (my buckskin gauntlets proved invaluable);
if in the boat, to wrap the sail or tarpaulin around us. Besides this
plague, sand-flies, gnats, swamp-flies, ants, and other insects
abounded. The little black ant is especially bold and warlike. If, in
making our beds in the sand, we disturbed one of their hives, they would
rally in thousands to the attack, and the only safety was in a hasty
shake and change of residence. Passing Indian River inlet, the river
broadens, and there is a thirty-mile straight-away course to Gilbert's
Bar, or Old Inlet, now closed; then begin the Jupiter Narrows, where the
channel is crooked, narrow, and often almost closed by the dense growth
of mangroves, juniper, saw-grass, etc., making a jungle that only a
water-snake could penetrate. Several times we lost our reckoning, and
had to retreat and take a fresh start; an entire day was lost in these
everglades, which extend across the entire peninsula. Finally, by good
luck, we stumbled on a short "haulover" to the sea, and determined at
once to take advantage of it, and to run our boat across and launch her
in the Atlantic. A short half-mile over the sand-dunes, and we were
clear of the swamps and marshes of Indian River, and were reveling in
the Atlantic, free, at least for a time, from mosquitos, which had
punctured and bled us for the last three weeks.
[Illustration: SAND AS A DEFENSE AGAINST MOSQUITOS.]
On Sunday, June 4, we passed Jupiter Inlet, with nothing in sight. The
lighthouse had been destroyed the first year of the war. From this point
we had determined to cross Florida Channel to the Bahamas, about eighty
miles; but the wind was ahead, and we could do nothing but work slowly
to the southward, waiting for a slant. It was of course a desperate
venture to cross this distance in a small open boat, which even a
moderate sea would swamp. Our provisions now became a very serious
question. As I have said, we had lost all the meal, and the sweet
potatoes, our next main-stay, were sufficient only for two days more. We
had but little more ammunition than was necessary for our revolvers, and
these we might be called upon to use at any time. Very fortunately for
us, it was the time of the year when the green turtle deposits its eggs.
Russell and O'Toole were old beach-combers, and had hunted eggs before.
Sharpening a stick, they pressed it into the sand as they walked along,
and wherever it entered easily they would dig. After some hours' search
we were successful in finding a nest which had not been destroyed, and I
do not think prospectors were ever more gladdened by the sight of "the
yellow" than we were at our find. The green turtle's egg is about the
size of a walnut, with a white skin like parchment that you can tear,
but not break. The yolk will cook hard, but the longer you boil the egg
the softer the white becomes. The flavor is not unpleasant, and for the
first two days we enjoyed them; but then we were glad to vary the fare
with a few shell-fish and even with snails.
[Illustration: SEARCHING FOR TURTLES' EGGS.]
From Cape Carnaveral to Cape Florida the coast trends nearly north and
south in a straight line, so that we could see at a long distance
anything going up or down the shore. Some distance to the southward of
Jupiter Inlet we saw a steamer coming down, running close to the beach
to avoid the three-and four-knot current of the stream. From her yards
and general appearance I soon made her out to be a cruiser, so we hauled
our boat well up on the sands, turned it over on its side, and went back
among the palmettos. When abreast of us and not more than half a mile
off, with colors flying, we could see the officer of the deck and
others closely scanning the shore. We were in hopes they would look upon
our boat as flotsam and jetsam, of which there was more or less strewn
upon the beach. To our great relief, the cruiser passed us, and when she
was two miles or more to the southward we ventured out and approached
the boat, but the sharp lookout saw us, and, to our astonishment, the
steamer came swinging about, and headed up the coast. The question at
once arose, What was the best course to pursue? The general thought we
had better take to the bush again, and leave the boat, hoping they would
not disturb it. Colonel Wilson agreed with his chief. I told him that
since we had been seen, the enemy would certainly destroy or carry off
the boat, and the loss meant, if not starvation, at least privation, and
no hope of escaping from the country. Besides, the mosquitos would suck
us as dry as Egyptian mummies. I proposed that we should meet them
half-way, in company with Russell and O'Toole, who were paroled men, and
fortunately had their papers with them, and I offered to row off and see
what was wanted. He agreed, and, launching our boat and throwing in two
buckets of eggs, we pulled out. By this time the steamer was abreast of
us, and had lowered a boat which met us half-way. I had one oar, and
O'Toole the other. To the usual hail I paid no attention except to stop
rowing. A ten-oared cutter with a smart-looking crew dashed alongside.
The sheen was not yet off the lace and buttons of the youngster in
charge. With revolver in hand he asked us who we were, where we came
from, and where we were going. "Cap'n," said I, "please put away
that-ar pistol,--I don't like the looks of it,--and I'll tell you all
about us. We've been rebs and there ain't no use saying we weren't; but
it's all up now, and we got home too late to put in a crop, so we just
made up our minds to come down shore and see if we couldn't find
something. It's all right, Cap'n; we've got our papers. Want to see 'em?
Got 'em fixed up at Jacksonville." O'Toole and Russell handed him their
paroles, which he said were all right. He asked for mine. I turned my
pockets out, looked in my hat, and said: "I must er dropped mine in
camp, but 'tis just the same as theirn." He asked who was ashore. I told
him, "There's more of we-uns b'iling some turtle-eggs for dinner. Cap'n,
I'd like to swap some eggs for tobacco or bread." His crew soon produced
from the slack of their frocks pieces of plug, which they passed on
board in exchange for our eggs. I told the youngster if he'd come to
camp we'd give him as many as he could eat. Our hospitality was
declined. Among other questions he asked if there were any batteries on
shore--a battery on a beach where there was not a white man within a
hundred miles! "Up oars--let go forward--let fall--give 'way!" were all
familiar orders; but never before had they sounded so welcome. As they
shoved off, the coxswain said to the youngster, "That looks like a
man-of-war's gig, sir"; but he paid no attention to him. We pulled
leisurely ashore, watching the cruiser. The boat went up to the davits
at a run, and she started to the southward again. The general was very
much relieved, for it was a narrow escape.
[Illustration: THROUGH A SHALLOW LAGOON.]
The wind still holding to the southward and eastward, we could work
only slowly to the southward, against wind and current. At times we
suffered greatly for want of water; our usual resource was to dig for
it, but often it was so brackish and warm that when extreme thirst
forced its use the consequences were violent pains and retchings. One
morning we saw a few wigwams ashore, and pulled in at once and landed.
It was a party of Seminoles who had come out of the everglades like the
bears to gather eggs. They received us kindly, and we devoured
ravenously the remnants of their breakfast of fish and _kountee_. Only
the old chief spoke a little English. Not more than two or three hundred
of this once powerful and warlike tribe remain in Florida; they occupy
some islands in this endless swamp to the southward of Lake Okeechobee.
They have but little intercourse with the whites, and come out on the
coast only at certain seasons to fish. We were very anxious to obtain
some provisions from them, but excepting kountee they had nothing to
spare. This is an esculent resembling arrowroot, which they dig,
pulverize, and use as flour. Cooked in the ashes, it makes a palatable
but tough cake, which we enjoyed after our long abstinence from bread.
The old chief took advantage of our eagerness for supplies, and
determined to replenish his powder-horn. Nothing else would do; not even
an old coat, or fish-hooks, or a cavalry saber would tempt him. Powder
only he would have for their long, heavy small-bore rifles with
flintlocks, such as Davy Crockett used. We reluctantly divided with him
our very scant supply in exchange for some of their flour. We parted
good friends, after smoking the pipe of peace.
[Illustration: EXCHANGING THE BOAT FOR THE SLOOP.]
On the 7th, off New River Inlet, we discovered a small sail standing to
the northward. The breeze was very light, so we downed our sail, got out
our oars, and gave chase. The stranger stood out to seaward, and
endeavored to escape; but slowly we overhauled her, and finally a shot
caused her mainsail to drop. As we pulled alongside I saw from the dress
of the crew of three that they were man-of-war's men, and divined that
they were deserters. They were thoroughly frightened at first, for our
appearance was not calculated to impress them favorably. To our
questions they returned evasive answers or were silent, and finally
asked by what authority we had overhauled them. We told them that the
war was not over so far as we were concerned; that they were our
prisoners, and their boat our prize; that they were both deserters and
pirates, the punishment of which was death; but that under the
circumstances we would not surrender them to the first cruiser we met,
but would take their paroles and exchange boats. To this they
strenuously objected. They were well armed, and although we outnumbered
them five to three (not counting Tom), still, if they could get the
first bead on us the chances were about equal. They were desperate, and
not disposed to surrender their boat without a tussle. The general and I
stepped into their boat, and ordered the spokesman and leader to go
forward. He hesitated a moment, and two revolvers looked him in the
face. Sullenly he obeyed our orders. The general said, "Wilson, disarm
that man." The colonel, with pistol in hand, told him to hold up his
hands. He did so while the colonel drew from his belt a navy revolver
and a sheath-knife. The other two made no further show of resistance,
but handed us their arms. The crew disposed of, I made an examination of
our capture. Unfortunately, her supply of provisions was very
small--only some "salt-horse" and hardtack, with a breaker of fresh
water, and we exchanged part of them for some of our konatee and
turtles' eggs. But it was in our new boat that we were particularly
fortunate: sloop-rigged, not much longer than our gig, but with more
beam and plenty of freeboard, decked over to the mast, and well found in
sails and rigging. After our experience in a boat the gunwale of which
was not more than eighteen inches out of water, we felt that we had a
craft able to cross the Atlantic. Our prisoners, submitting to the
inevitable, soon made themselves at home in their new boat, became more
communicative, and wanted some information as to the best course by
which to reach Jacksonville or Savannah. We were glad to give them the
benefit of our experience, and on parting handed them their knives and
two revolvers, for which they were very thankful.
Later we were abreast of Green Turtle Key, with wind light and ahead;
still, with all these drawbacks, we were able to make some progress. Our
new craft worked and sailed well, after a little addition of ballast.
Before leaving the coast, we found it would be necessary to call at Fort
Dallas or some other point for supplies. It was running a great risk,
for we did not know whom we should find there, whether friend or foe.
But without at least four or five days' rations of some kind, it would
not be safe to attempt the passage across the Gulf Stream. However,
before venturing to do so, we determined to try to replenish our larder
with eggs. Landing on the beach, we hunted industriously for some hours,
literally scratching for a living; but the ground had evidently been
most effectually gone over before, as the tracks of bears proved. A few
onions, washed from some passing vessel, were eagerly devoured. We
scanned the washings along the strand in vain for anything that would
satisfy hunger. Nothing remained but to make the venture of stopping at
the fort. This fort, like many others, was established during the
Seminole war, and at its close was abandoned. It is near the mouth of
the Miami River, a small stream which serves as an outlet to the
overflow of the everglades. Its banks are crowded to the water's edge
with tropical verdure, with many flowering plants and creepers, all the
colors of which are reflected in its clear waters. The old barracks were
in sight as we slowly worked our way against the current. Located in a
small clearing, with cocoanut-trees in the foreground, the white
buildings made, with a backing of deep green, a very pretty picture. We
approached cautiously, not knowing with what reception we should meet.
As we neared the small wharf, we found waiting some twenty or thirty
men, of all colors, from the pale Yankee to the ebony Congo, all armed:
a more motley and villainous-looking crew never trod the deck of one of
Captain Kidd's ships. We saw at once with whom we had to deal--deserters
from the army and navy of both sides, with a mixture of Spaniards and
Cubans, outlaws and renegades. A burly villain, towering head and
shoulders above his companions, and whose shaggy black head scorned any
covering, hailed us in broken English, and asked who we were. Wreckers,
I replied; that we left our vessel outside, and had come in for water
and provisions. He asked where we had left our vessel, and her name,
evidently suspicious, which was not surprising, for our appearance was
certainly against us. Our head-gear was unique: the general wore a straw
hat that napped over his head like the ears of an elephant; Colonel
Wilson, an old cavalry cap that had lost its visor; another, a turban
made of some number 4 duck canvas; and all were in our shirt-sleeves,
the colors of which were as varied as Joseph's coat. I told him we had
left her to the northward a few miles, that a gunboat had spoken us a
few hours before, and had overhauled our papers, and had found them all
right. After a noisy powwow we were told to land, that our papers might
be examined. I said no, but if a canoe were sent off, I would let one of
our men go on shore and buy what we wanted. I was determined not to
trust our boat within a hundred yards of the shore. Finally a canoe
paddled by two negroes came off, and said no one but the captain would
be permitted to land. O'Toole volunteered to go, but the boatmen would
not take him, evidently having had their orders. I told them to tell
their chief that we had intended to spend a few pieces of gold with
them, but since he would not permit it, we would go elsewhere for
supplies. We got out our sweeps, and moved slowly down the river, a
light breeze helping us. The canoe returned to the shore, and soon some
fifteen or twenty men crowded into four or five canoes and dugouts, and
started for us. We prepared for action, determined to give them a warm
reception. Even Tom looked after his carbine, putting on a fresh cap.
Though outnumbered three to one, still we were well under cover in our
boat, and could rake each canoe as it came up. We determined to take all
the chances, and to open fire as soon as they came within range. I told
Russell to try a shot at one some distance ahead of the others. He broke
two paddles on one side and hit one man, not a bad beginning. This canoe
dropped to the rear at once; the occupants of the others opened fire,
but their shooting was wild from the motions of their small craft. The
general tried and missed; Tom thought he could do better than his
master, and made a good line shot, but short. The general advised
husbanding our ammunition until they came within easy range. Waiting a
little while, Russell and the colonel fired together, and the bowman in
the nearest canoe rolled over, nearly upsetting her. They were now
evidently convinced that we were in earnest, and, after giving us an
ineffectual volley, paddled together to hold a council of war. Soon a
single canoe with three men started for us with a white flag. We hove
to, and waited for them to approach. When within hail, I asked what was
wanted. A white man, standing in the stern, with two negroes paddling,
replied:
"What did you fire on us for? We are friends."
"Friends do not give chase to friends."
"We wanted to find out who you are."
"I told you who we are; and if you are friends, sell us some
provisions."
"Come on shore, and you can get what you want."
Our wants were urgent, and it was necessary, if possible, to make some
terms with them; but it would not be safe to venture near their lair
again. We told them that if they would bring us some supplies we would
wait, and pay them well in gold. The promise of gold served as a bait to
secure some concession. After some parleying it was agreed that O'Toole
should go on shore in their canoe, be allowed to purchase some
provisions, and return in two hours. The bucaneer thought the time too
short, but I insisted that if O'Toole were not brought back in two
hours, I would speak the first gunboat I met, and return with her and
have their nest of freebooters broken up. Time was important, for we had
noticed soon after we had started down the river a black column of smoke
ascending from near the fort, undoubtedly a signal to some of their
craft in the vicinity to return, for I felt convinced that they had
other craft besides canoes at their disposal; hence their anxiety to
detain us. O'Toole was told to be as dumb as an oyster as to ourselves,
but wide awake as to the designs of our dubious friends. The general
gave him five eagles for his purchase, tribute-money. He jumped into the
canoe, and all returned to the fort. We dropped anchor underfoot to
await his return, keeping a sharp lookout for any strange sail. The two
hours passed in pleasant surmises as to what he would bring off; another
half-hour passed, and no sign of his return; and we began to despair of
our anticipated feast, and of O'Toole, a bright young Irishman, whose
good qualities had endeared him to us all. The anchor was up, and slowly
with a light breeze we drew away from the river, debating what should be
our next move. The fort was shut in by a projecting point, and three or
four miles had passed when the welcome sight of a canoe astern made us
heave to. It was O'Toole with two negroes, a bag of hard bread, two
hams, some rusty salt pork, sweet potatoes, fruit, and, most important
of all, two breakers of water and a keg of New England rum. While
O'Toole gave us his experience, a ham was cut, and a slice between two
of hardtack, washed down with a jorum of rum and water, with a dessert
of oranges and bananas, was a feast to us more enjoyable than any ever
eaten at Delmonico's or the Cafe Riche. On his arrival on shore, our
ambassador had been taken to the quarters of Major Valdez, who claimed
to be an officer of the Federals, and by him he was thoroughly
cross-examined. He had heard of the breaking up of the Confederacy, but
not of the capture of Mr. Davis, and was evidently skeptical of our
story as to being wreckers, and connected us in some way with the losing
party, either as persons of note or a party escaping with treasure.
However, O'Toole baffled all his queries, and was proof against both
blandishments and threats. He learned what he had expected, that they
were looking for the return of a schooner; hence the smoke signal, and
the anxiety to detain us as long as possible. It was only when he saw us
leaving, after waiting over two hours, that the major permitted him to
make a few purchases and rejoin us.