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EXPLANATION OF FRONTISPIECE

Liguus fasciatus testudineus Pilsbry. Brickell Hammock, Miami.
Liguus fasciatus lineolatus Simpson. Totten’s Key, Upper Keys.
Liguus solidus lineatus Simpson. Lignumvite Key, Upper Keys.
Liguus fasciatus castaneozonatus Pilsbry, var. Paradise Key, Dade Co.
Liguus fasciatus elegans Simpson. Island S.W. of Paradise Key.
Liguus fasciatus roseatus Pilsbry. Long Key, Everglades.

Liguus crenatus marmoratus Pilsbry, var. Brickell Hammock, Miami.
Liguus fasciatus alternatus Simpson. Timb’s Hammock, Dade Co.
Liguus fasciatus castaneozonatus Pilsbry, var. Key Vaca, Upper Keys.
Liguus crenatus eburneus Simpson. ‘Timb’s Hammock, Dade Co.
Liguus fasciatus hybrid. Paradise Key, Dade Co.

Liguus fasciatus versicolor Simpson. Long Key, Everglades.

Liguus solidus lignumvite Pilsbry. Lignumvite Key, Upper Keys.
Liguus fasciatus roseatus Pilsbry, var. Long Key, Everglades.

Liguus fasciatus castaneozonatus Pilsbry. Paradise Key.

Liguus crenatus septentrionalis Pilsbry. Fort Lauderdale, Broward Co.

(Reduced one-fourth in length)

In
Lower Florida Wilds

A Naturalist’s Observations on the Life,
Physical Geography, and Geology
of the more tropical part
of the State

Charles Torrey Simpson

With Sixty-four Illustrations and Two Maps

G. P. Putnam’s Sons

New York and London

The Rnickerbocker Press
1920

352386

To
JOHN BROOKS HENDERSON

FRIEND AND COMPANION OF MANY CRUISES AND SCIENTIFIC
EXPEDITIONS, THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED

INTRODUCTION

HE following pages are the result of ob-
servations and experiences in the wilds
of the lower part of Florida during more
than twenty years of residence in the

region. From 1882 till 1886 I made my home on
the southwest coast of the State and have lived
near Miami since 1902.. When I first came to the
State the greater part of Lower Florida was an
unbroken wilderness, and during the time I have
been here I have quite thoroughly explored the
territory described in this volume both as.a col-
lector and general naturalist. To-day most of its
hammocks are destroyed, the streams are being
dredged out and deepened, the Everglades are
nearly drained; even the pine forests are being cut
down. At the time when I first resided in the
State flamingos, roseate spoonbills, scarlet ibises,
and the beautiful plumed herons were abundant.
Deer and otter could be seen at any time and the

west coast waters were alive with immense schools
Vv

vi INTRODUCTION

of mullet and other fish, while manatee were not
rare. The streams and swamps were full of alli-
gators; in fact the wonderful wild fauna of our
region filled the land and the waters everywhere.
It has seemed to me fitting that some record of
this life should be made, in view of the fact that it
is so rapidly disappearing—and forever. Already
a number of species of our animals and plants are
exterminated from this the only area in the United
States in which they have ever been found.

In writing of our animals and plants I have made
no attempt to use the very latest scientific names
applied tothem. Every newmanual changes a large
proportion of these, for our scientific nomenclature
seems to be in an unhappy period of transition.

I am under great obligations to Mr. John B.
Henderson for repeated cruises made with him in
his dredging boat the Eolis, and for many col-
lecting trips in Cuba, Jamaica, Haiti, and the
Bahamas, where I was able to study much of the
tropical life of Lower Florida where it originated;
also for much assistance in preparing this volume.

Dr. John K. Small, of the New York Botanical
Garden, has been my companion and mentor
during a great many collecting trips in our terri-

INTRODUCTION vii

tory, and has most generously placed at my dis-
posal a large number of photographs made by him
in the almost untrodden wilds. Mr. Charles Deer-
ing has shown me unnumbered favors in making
me a member of collecting expeditions on his boat
the Barbee. Mr. Wilson Popenoe of the U.S. De-
partment of Agriculture, Professor Frances G. Smith
of Smith College, and Dr. Roland Harper have fur-
nished a number of photographs and rendered val-
uable assistance. Dr. E. H. Sellards, former State
Geologist of Florida, contributed the map showing
the Pleistocene subsidence and has made valuable
suggestions. Mr. E. Ben Carter, Chief Engineer
of the Florida East Coast Railway, has kindly
allowed me to use the excellent map of a part of
Monroe and Dade counties which was made from
surveys for the extension of that road.

The map accompanying the text of this volume
was drawn by the author in pencil and inked and
lettered by Mr. Forrest Clark. The fine work of
the map of the East Coast Railway has been
freely copied with the permission of Mr. Carter.

Cc. T. 5.

Lrtt_e River, FLorma,
April 22, 1919.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I—Tue BuILpING oF THE LAND . : I
II.—Tue Froripa Keys : : - 32

III.—Tue Ten Tuousanp Isianps . - 59
IV.—CareE SABLE . : 4 ‘ . 75
V.—THE SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 96
-VI—TueE EVERGLADES . : ; . 118
VII.—Tue PLantinc oF Our FLora - 143
VITI.— Tue Lure or THE PINEY Woops . 167
IX.—TuHeE ORIGIN oF THE HAMMOCKS - 190
X.—IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST ‘ . 210
XI—ALONG THE STREAM : : . 233
(XII.—ALonG THE MANGROVE SHORE . 254
“Xdil— Tae Oren Sea Brace . wt; 276
XIV.—THE WonpDERS oF AJAX REEF . 301
XV.—TuHE SECRETS OF THE SEA A - 317
XVI.—TuHE Story oF THE LAND SNAILS . 335
XVII—TusE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT . . 353
XVIII.—TuHE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST - 373

INDEX . ; a ‘1 ‘ - 395

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE
Lower Frioriwa Licuus (In Color) Frontispiece

DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE FORMATION OF SAND

IsLANDS AND PENINSULAS : ; . 23
RacGepD CorAL LIMESTONE . ; : . 24
SMALL OVERHANGING CoRAL ISLET : . 24

YounGc MANGROVES GROWING ON NAKED Rock 28

Cereus peerinci (SMALL). A NEw Cereus. 48

GETTING OUT PLANTS OF CEREUS DEERINGI . 50
Tue Barszze EXPLORING Boat. . . §6
Yucca Auorro.t1a (SPANISH BAYONET) . . 58
GIANT MANGROVE WALL NEAR CAPE SABLE. 60

CHOKOLOSKEE ISLAND, TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 64

Home, Sweet Home. A TypPicaAL PALMETTO

TuHatcH House : ‘ : ; . 66
NativE Roya, PALM AT RoGErRs RIVER » 92
HzAD OF CHOKOLOSKEE RIVER . i - 74

East Care SABLE, THE Most SOUTBERLY
PoINT OF THE MAINLAND IN THE U.S. - 76
xi

xii ILLUSTRATIONS

THRINAX WENDLANDIANA, ONE OF FLORIDA’S
New PALMs . s : : ‘

Cereus pEeNTAGONUS, A Most VILLAINOUS
Cactus . : i s . . P

CEREUS ERIOPHORUS, EQUALLY VILLAINOUS
Two DIAMOND RATTLESNAKES ; Z 3

ONE oF FLoRIDA’s NEw PALMS, ACOELORRAPHE
WRIGATII 5 ‘i * a . .

CABBAGE PALMETTOS, NEAR PUNTA GorDA,
FLORIDA . : : ; z ¥

GREAT ORCHID, CyrropopiumM PUNCTATUM, IN
FuLt BLoom . : : ; F :

GETTING our NEw Patm aT Maperra Bay .
VIEW IN EDGE OF EVERGLADES.
EVERGLADES NEAR PARADISE KEY
PARADISE KEY witH NATIVE RoyaL PALMS .

PERMANENT SEMINOLE CAMP , 3

Part oF FAMILY or ToMMy JIMMY AT SEMINOLE
Camp, ‘ : : :

. .

HamMMock SCENE aT “ THE SENTINELS”’

SworD or Boston FERN ON PaRADISE KEy .

NEPHROLEPIS BISERRATA, A BEAUTIFUL SwoRD
FERN 7 .

PAGE

ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
PAGE
BEAUTIFUL NATIVE SHRUB, TETRAZYGIA BI-
CoLor, IN FuLL BLoom . . ‘ . 160
VIEW IN PINE Woops . s 3 ; . 168
DIFFERENT STAGES OF GROWTH OF DWARF
PALMETTO ‘ ‘ ‘ - - . 168
UpPROOTED PINE SHOWING CONICAL Mass OF
Roots. : ; é : ; . 186
UPROOTED PINE SHOWING ROCK TORN UP BY
ITs Roots 5 . ‘ ; : . 186
VERY YOUNG HAMMOCK 3 : 192
YounGc HAMMOCK AT WATER HOoL-E, Lonc Key,
EVERGLADES . ; ‘ : 192
View on ParapisE Key, LovELY SETTING OF
Roya PALM . : : . : 204
PoLypoDIUM POLYPODIOIDES, RESURRECTION
FERN ; ‘ j : , : . 206
Two Views OF DENSE TROPICAL FOREST IN
Miami HAMMOCK . ; P : 210
DENSELY CROWDED, STRAIGHT TREES IN
Miami HAMMOCK . ‘ F 214
Giant Gumspo LiMBo (BuRSERA GUMMIFERA) . 216
DENSE TANGLE OF TROPICAL VINES 220

Mout oF LITTLE RIVER. : f .

234

xiv ILLUSTRATIONS

View HIGHER UP STREAM . j
Curious Root GrowTH OF ANNONA. a
BRACKISH STREAM REACH . : Fi F

CUTLER CREEK AT JUNCTION OF FRESH AND
BRACKISH WATER . : : : .

Rocky SINK ON CUTLER CREEK . -

RIVER CYPRESS ENTANGLED WITH STRANGLING
Fic. Cypress KNEES

GIANT MANGROVES NEAR LITTLE RIVER
MAZE OF MANGROVE GRowTH AT LEMON CITY
MANGROVES ARCHING OVER STREAM 7 :

OUTSIDE VIEW OF MANGROVE SHORE . r

SEA BEACH AT CAPE SABLE, SHOWING. RICKS.

OF SHELLS . : ‘i . ,

EGG CAsE OF Furtcur PERVERSUS . ‘ ;
LovELy REEF Fish (Asuperpur SAXATILIS) .
CoraL REEF ON SOUTHEAST COAST OF FLORIDA

Hocrisa (Lacunotaimus MAXimus) SHOWING
CHANGES OF CoLorR. UNDERSEA PHOTO-
GRAPHS , F ‘ .

. . .

BotToM OF TROPICAL SEA. GoRGONIA ACEROSA.
UNDERSEA PHOTOGRAPH .

Two SKETCHES SHOWING OUTLINES OF DREDGE

PAGE
234
246
246

248
250.

252
254
256
258
260

278
284
304
304

312

314
318

ILLUSTRATIONS XV

PAGE
THE Eoris, DREDGING YACHT BELONGING TO
JoHN B. HENDERSON ‘ . ‘ - 320

PoLYGYRA AURICULATA, THE APERTURE RE-
MARKABLY CONTORTED TO PREVENT THE
ENTRANCE OF PREDATORY BEETLES . . 336

Licguus FAsciatus, TWO VARIETIES. SNAILS
ATTACHED TO BARK OF TREE DURING
PERIOD OF AESTIVATION . : F . 352

OXYSTYLA FLORIDENSIS AESTIVATING IN HOLLOW
TREE. : : : : ; . 356

GREAT BLUE LAND CRAB (CARDISOMA GUANHUMI1) 370

ACTUAL MOONLIGHT SCENE LOOKING ACROSS

BIscAYNE Bay : ‘ ‘ : . 376
STRANGLING Fic, First STAGE. : . 382
STRANGLING Fic, SECOND STAGE . ; . 384
STRANGLING Fic, THIRD STAGE. P . 386
STRANGLING Fic, Last STAGE 4 3 . 388
Ficus BREVIFOLIA, BECOMING A VERITABLE

BANYAN . ‘ : : : : . 390

MAPS

SKETCH Map To SHOW EARLY PLEISTOCENE
SUBMERGENCE . ‘ j ‘ At End

SxetcH Map oF LOWER FLORIDA . ‘ At End

In Lower Florida Wilds

CHAPTER I
The Building of the Land

HE observant visitor in Florida will find
much that is interesting and surprising;
some things. indeed that may be quite
beyond his comprehension. He _ will

notice that there are no mountains or high hills,
that the general region is flat and but slightly
elevated above sea level. He will observe that
the drier part of the State is largely. composed of
sand sometimes blown into dunes; that the many
sluggish streams have hardly any valleys, and that
the greater part of the territory is covered with a
monotonous open growth of long leaved pines,
with here and there stretches of. denser forest
composed of hardwood trees and shrubs, called

‘hammocks.’ Occasionally there is a swamp
I

2 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

which may consist largely of gray cypress trees
with swollen, conical bases, while scattered thickly
over the swamp floor are blunt leafless stubs from
one to six feet long, thrust up out of the mud—
peculiar growths which spring from the roots of
these trees.

If the stranger visits the lower part of the State
he will find in the interior a vast extent of wet,
often inundated prairie with wooded islets
scattered along its borders. At the north of this
great swamp, the Everglades, is Lake Okeechobee,
which during the rainy season overflows the entire
prairie. A low rocky ridge lies between the Ever-
glades and the Atlantic shore. It projects west-
ward far into the swamp in southern Dade County,
and finally disappears in the great prairie. This
ridge is cut into numerous islands, and water from
the Everglades passes through the channels be-
tween out to the sea.

To the southeast, southward, and southwest of
the mainland is a long chain of islands, the ‘‘Florida
Keys,’ which extends in a great curve to the south
and west, ending far out in the sea with the Tor-
tugas. The upper islands of this chain are long
and narrow, running parallel with the Gulf Stream,

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 3

and are of coral formation. The lower islands are
of oolitic limestone and many of them run almost
directly across the axis of the chain. If the visitor
is a botanist he will find that the flora of the south-
east mainland differs decidedly from that of the
upper islands, although but a few miles distant,
and also that many plants of the upper chain are
not found on the lower group.

The observer will also notice that almost every-
where along both coasts of the State and separated
from the mainland shore by narrow sounds there
is a series of long islands or peninsulas, generally
parallel with the shore, composed of sand and often
covered with vegetation. He will find that in the
lower part of Florida the protected shores of these
islands and of the mainland are usually bordered
by a dense growth of mangroves standing high
on stilted roots and often reaching well out into
the water. These trees help in a wonderful manner
to build up the land.

If our visitor be a Nature lover he will ask why
is this great area so low and flat; why are there no
stream valleys; why should the State be pine
covered with only here and there an island-like
hammock? Why so sandy, and whence came

4 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the sand: What causes the curious growth of
the cypresses; how and. when were the Ever-
glades and the great Okeechobee formed; how
comes the rocky ridge along the eastern coast?
Why do the keys parallel the Gulf Stream; why
are the upper ones long and narrow and what
caused them to trend in the direction of the chain
while most of the lower ones range across it?
What is the cause of the difference in the floras
which are separated by only a few miles of swamps
or shallow sea? Why do the mangroves stand high
on stilted roots, often with no trunk at all at their
bases? These and many other questions are asked
by the inquisitive stranger, indeed by those who
long have lived here. In this and following chapters
Ishall attempt to answer most of these queries and
to explain other things Floridian not easily under-
stood at first. In some cases the. geologic evidence
seems to be so completely obliterated that we can
only guess at a solution; in others we must wait
for more careful and complete investigation before
we can reach very satisfactory conclusions.

At some fairly remote period in geological time
a great plateau was thrust up from the depths of

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 5

the sea by a folding of the’earth’s crust at the south-
eastern corner of the North American continent.
This plateau has an average width of about three
hundred miles and is of very nearly the same
length. Its borders everywhere slope rapidly
down into the abysses of the ocean. The eastern
half of this plateau, which is the more elevated
portion and now projects above the sea, is the
present peninsula of Florida. This peninsula is
shaped very much like the handle of an old-
fashioned pistol. The northern or ‘‘continental”
part of the State somewhat resembles the short
barrel of the same, which is pointed directly at the
States lying to the westward. The tract of land
at the mouth of the Apalachicola River might
answer for a trigger case. I once called the atten-
tion of an old Georgia cracker to this peculiar
form, and after looking closely at the map for a
minute while he slowly traced the outline with his
finger he remarked: ‘‘Hit shore does look some
like a pistol. Y'all don’t reckon they wanted to
fight, do ye, when they laid hit out thataway?”’
The surface or topography of the State is,
geologically speaking, quite new, there being
within its borders no rocks observable older than

6 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the Vicksburg group of the Upper Eocene. The
presence of coal or carbonaceous matter has re-
cently been reported from wells at a depth of
about a thousand feet in Marion and Pasco coun-
ties, and this would indicate that at the time the
coal was formed the surface of that part of the
peninsula (a thousand feet below the present
surface) was elevated to at least a short distance
above sea level. As there are no evidences of any
violent disturbances throughout the entire area
we may presume that for a long time after the
deposition of this carbonaceous material there was
a gradual subsidence, and that the land was slowly
built up by marine deposits at about the same rate
at which the whole was subsiding. The entire
area of Florida south of a line from Tampa to
Daytona is very recent, as it belongs to the latest
of the geologic periods—the Quaternary.

The region lying south of a line drawn from
Cape Romano on the west to about Fort Lauder-
dale on the east may be designated as Lower
Florida and this includes practically all of the
State which has any claim to being called tropical.
It embraces all the territory occupied in Florida
by the large Cuban and West Indian arboreal

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 7

snails with their beautiful shells and probably all
the region in which a majority of the native plants
have been derived from the Torrid Zone. It is
true that the flora of the seacoast littoral for a
considerable distance north of these two points
has been derived from Middle America, but, as I
show elsewhere, it is subject to occasional destruc-
tion by frost. A few very narrow strips of West
Indian trees and plants found immediately along
the beaches on dry land for some distance up the
peninsula owe their existence only to their im-
mediate proximity to the sea.

During early or middle Pleistocene time (geo-
logically speaking, only yesterday) a considerable
subsidence took place throughout the peninsula
of Florida, and all the lower part of the State (to
north of the Caloosahatchee River) was sunk
below the level of the sea. Most of the rock of
the southern part of the State was formed under
water during this period of depression. If, by
any possibility, any of it had been above the
ocean before this time, the flora and fauna in-
habiting it were either drowned or driven to the
northward. The story of the building of the land,
so far as we need to trace it, may begin with

8 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

this Pleistocene submergence—this depression of
*‘yesterday.”’

"It was probably at this time that the great coral:
reef along the Floridian border of the Gulf Stream
was started, and grew until.it finally appeared at
the surface of the sea. After being worked over by
wave and storm action and with slight further
elevation it formed and then became the present
Upper Keys. This reef lay on a bank at some
distance from what was later to become the main-
land and was nourished by the warm, food-laden
waters of the great ocean river that swept along it.
When it had been built up to near its present
height another coral reef or fringe began to grow
up outside it and this is the present outer reef,
which we shall visit in a later chapter.

During this same period of subsidence extensive
beds of shallow water limestone were deposited
over much of what was later to become our present
Lower Florida. One of these limestone beds, an
oolitic, covered the area which has since become
the present region of the Lower Keys, and it is
quite possible that this same formation extends to
and includes all the present southeast coast where
the rock is called by geologists the ‘‘ Miami lime-

THE. BUILDING OF THE LAND 9

stone.” This ‘‘Miami limestone” is usually
believed to be of coral formation but it is really a
shallow water oolitic limestone with a few corals
mixed in here and there. On the southwest coast
the ‘‘Lostman’s River limestone’’ was probably
laid down at this time and in the area now the
interior of the Everglades a similar shallow water
limestone was deposited.

Towards the close of the Pleistocene (geologi-
cally speaking at this morning’s dawn) a period
of elevation took place. Then for the first time
the lower part of the State assumed essentially
its present form, covering much the same area it
does to-day. It is probable that during the time
of this gradual elevation the rocky ridge (already
referred to) lying between the Everglades and
the Atlantic was built up. Beginning at Little
River, though with occasional outcrops for some
distance northward, and extending to its extreme
southwest end, this ridge is composed of a soft
oolitic limestone and is but a few miles wide,
now broken into a series of ‘‘islands.”” It reaches
well down into the Everglades, then turns to the
westward, then to the southwest, and finally ends
within five miles of Whitewater Bay. The water

10 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

of the Everglades drains freely through this porous
rock, sometimes in wide prairie-like channels be-
tween the ‘‘islands”’ and sometimes it appears as
springs on the eastern side of the ridge. This
rocky ridge, which Dr. John K. Small has appro-
priately called ‘‘The Everglade Keys,” is surely
a series of ancient sea beaches, formed one after
the other during the gradual elevation of this
area. This is indicated by the strata being greatly
cross bedded throughout a considerable part of
it. In places between these old beaches the
water must have been sheltered and quiet, as is
indicated by many fossil bivalve shells found
clinging together in a natural state. A northern
sandy part of this ancient shore line overlaps the
rocky ridge and was deposited at a later time.
This ridge was the great highway over which
plants and animals from the American tropics
migrated northward and those from the north
came southward.

In all probability the Everglades (which we
shall personally inspect in another chapter) began
to develop at about this time. The upper part of
the chain of keys, doubtless in process of formation
before the time of this uplift, was then thrust up,

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND It

and many of the corals, because of exposure to the
atmosphere, were killed. The sea broke up the
exposed surface of the reef, worked it over, and
scattered the debris, forming thus a wide foun-
dation for future growth of coral.

Samuel Sanford has claimed that this, or some
more recent or subsequent uplift, carried the land
to perhaps two hundred feet above its present level.
Had there been so great an elevation all Lower
Florida, including the keys, together with the pres-
ent bays and sounds necessarily would have been
continuous dry land. As the area is not large, its
surface flat, its structure quite uniform, and its
climate throughout, especially near the sea, quite
the same, it seems certain that had so great an uplift
ever taken place there would be to-day but one
common assemblage of dry-land animals and plants
throughout, or in the warmer part, at least, of the
region. There can be no doubt that most all of the
species would have been distributed over the entire
territory. This, however, is not the case. Actually
we find three more or less circumscribed areas of
dry-land life occupying Lower Florida. First, the
Lower Keys are inhabited by an almost strictly
tropical flora, and within their borders there are

12 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

about one hundred species of native plants which
are found nowhere else in the United States.
Liguus solidus, a large, beautiful arboreal snail,
exclusively occupies these islands and has formed
several well marked subspecies, but it does not
occur on the mainland. One particular form
which may have originally sprung from it is found
on Lignumvitz and on Lower Matecumbe keys
of the upper chain, but it probably reached these
islands by drifting from the lower chain. Another
large tree snail (Oxystyla resus) has evidently de-
veloped on the Lower Keys and is only found else-
where on Key Vaca, an island of the upper chain
but lying close to the lower ones. Hemitrochus
varians, a finely colored Bahaman snail, is abundant
on the southeast coast and Upper Keys, but is not
found on the lower ones. A native cotton rat and
a cotton mouse, which I shall mention elsewhere,
occur abundantly on the upper chain of islands
but never on the lower. So far as we know, no
mammals are indigenous to any part of the lower
group.

The mainland of the Miami region, including the
rocky ridge just mentioned, ‘has a mixed flora, a
majority of its species being migrants from the

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 13

American tropics. These are, to a very consid-
erable’ extent, identical with plants found on the
Lower Keys. A little over a third of its flora is
temperate and warm temperate, having migrated
by land from the northward since the beginning
of the land elevation. Only a few of these hardier
northern plants occur on the keys. It is probable
that the Lower Keys formed a single island during
the time of this uplift, at. which time the Miami
mainland was first elevated above the sea. For
a long time seeds and animals were carried north-
ward by the Gulf Stream and established simul-
taneously on both of these land bodies while the
present Upper Keys were only a living coral reef.
In all probability the present south shore of the
mainland was under water at that time and the
same is doubtless true of the present southwest
coast. Had the Upper Keys been elevated above
the sea at that time they would have proven a
rather effectual barrier to the landing of tropical
life along the old Miami shore.

The Upper Keys, the extreme southern part of
the mainland, and the lower southwest coast are
inhabited by a common assemblage of plants, and,
to a considerable extent, of animals, which differ

14 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

somewhat from those of the Lower Keys and the
Miami mainland. There was an old landway,
now wholly submerged and quite dissolved away,
which reached across from Lower Matecumbe
Key to the mainland east of Flamingo. Before
the Florida East Coast Railway dredged a chan-
nel across the mud flat back of Matecumbe it
would have been possible by following the tor-
tuous shoals actually to wade from it to the main-
land near Joe Kemp’s Key, a distance of fully
thirty miles, in water nowhere more than two
feet deep. In fact there is now an extensive
series of shoals lying along the inside of the Upper
Keys from Duck Key to Largo (a distance of
twenty-five miles) which stretches all the way
across to the mainland with only here and there
an enclosed basin of six or seven feet depth. For
the most part, these shoals are continuous.

East of these shoals at the head of Florida Bay,
an uninterrupted body of water from six to seven
feet. deep extends across from Key Largo to the
mainland. This together with the extensive
swamp to the northwest of it has acted as a
barrier to the passage of dry-land plants and ani-
mals from the Upper Keys and also from the ham-

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 15

mocks along the south shore of the State over to
the rocky ridge east and south of the Everglades.

The northern end of the upper chain of keys is
not more than eight miles distant from the rocky
ridge on the Miami mainland. Key Largo has
been connected with the mainland until recently
but the connection was a swamp never sufficiently
dry to permit the passage of upland forms of life.
Notwithstanding the nearness of these two bodies
of land and the fact that they are only separated
by the shallow waters of Biscayne Bay, Card and
Barnes sounds I feel safe in asserting that there
has never been an elevation sufficient to unite them
as dry land since the present life reached their
shores. Nor, on the other hand, has there been
any subsidence great enough to drown out our
dry-land flora and fauna since they were first es-
tablished. I do not believe that since the first
Pleistocene elevation there has been twenty feet of
change in elevation in all Lower Florida.

At least sixty species of tropical plants are found
on the Upper Keys which do not occur on the
Miami mainland and a large temperate and warm
temperate flora grows on the latter which is
entirely absent from the former area. There are

16 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

more than 140 species of tropical plants common
to this mainland and the Lower Keys which do not
occur on the Upper Keys at all! 1 can conceive of
no better evidence that the Miami coast and the
Lower Keys (which are likely of the same geo-
logical formation), though they were perhaps never
actually connected, were above the sea and were
receiving life drifted from the American tropics
a long time before the Upper Keys had become
dry land. If I amcorrect.the Lower Keys should
be far richer in tropical life than the upper ones.
This is in fact the case for 440 such species of plants
have been reported from the former area as against
265 from the latter. Yet there is but little dif-
ference in the extent and surface features of the
two groups of islands. It is doubtful that they
have ever been connected by dry land. The
Moser Channel lying west of Knight’s .Key (of
the upper chain) and eastward of the lower chain
carries through a full nine feet of water from the
Gulf of Mexico to the Florida Strait, and this
channel has probably separated the two groups
of islands or keys from the time when the present
tropical flora and fauna first began to arrive.

The distribution of the animals of Lower

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 17

Florida is not so well known as is that of the
plants, but it is certain that we have many tropical
species of the former within our borders. I have
seen a large collection of butterflies made near
Havana and more than half of its species are also
Floridian. I do not know that any naturalist has
identified all our other insects. We have about
forty species of land and fresh-water mollusks in
Florida of tropical American origin and of these
at least a dozen have developed into distinct
species since they arrived here. It is probable
that when our flora is fully investigated quite a
thousand species of tropical plants will be found
in Lower Florida, and of these, a considerable
number, perhaps fifty, will prove to be endemic,
that is they have developed into new forms since
landing on our shores.

It has required a long time for the attainment
of such results, for the process of establishing a
flora and fauna by drifting and migration must
necessarily be a slow one, and the development of
species takes much time. Ages have been re-
quired for all this and it is not unlikely that twenty
or twenty-five thousand years have elapsed since
the mid-Pleistocene elevation began.

18 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Some time after this mid-Pleistocene elevation
there came a second subsidence, but only of a few
feet. Along the low, rocky bluffs in and just
north of Cocoanut Grove, erosion marks made by
the surf are plainly visible. The same evidences
may be seen in the great hammock south of
Miami, its eastern rocky wall having been the sea-
shore at the time of this slight subsidence. Now
the southern end of this wall is quite a distance
back from the bay though at the Punch Bowl
the bluff comes out to the shore. The same
erosion marks may be seen on a bit of rocky bluff
on the north side of Little River, and along the
walls of Arch Creek. There are old beaches on
which long dead (but specifically recent) sea shells
are scattered, in several places back from the
western shore of Biscayne Bay and again at Boca
Raton, north of Fort Lauderdale. These are six
or seven feet above tide and correspond in height
with the surf marks on the bluffs near the Punch
Bowl. A similar shell beach on Big Pine Key
of the lower chain, would indicate that the sub-
sidence was not so great there, as it lies about
three feet above the ocean. These old beaches
mark the limit of the second subsidence and during

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 19

the greatest depression the sea entered the eastern
border of the Everglades. At the same time the
reef (which later became the Upper Keys), was
still further built up and developed.

This second subsidence was followed by a
second period of elevation, during which the
corals of the reef slowly died and the sea again
destroyed the surface of the reef, piling up debris,
scattering the looser materials, and reshaping it
into islands of coral rock. The reef was finally
elevated sufficiently for the seeds of dry-land
plants to germinate upon it and establish a flora.
Lower Florida mainland was doubtless slightly
higher at this time than it is at present, sufficiently
so that the old land passage elsewhere mentioned
from the mainland to the Upper Keys existed.

A third slight subsidence followed and is prob-
ably continuing at present. Now the old landway
just referred to is submerged and its remnants are
being destroyed by the solvents of the sea. While
making excavations in a brackish swamp on my
place I found stumps and trunks of live oaks and
other trees below the present level of high tide,
and these were undoubtedly in the localities where
they grew. Sanford mentions seeing a thick

20 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

stump in gray marl on the southwest coast cov-
ered by water at high tide. He believes, as I do,
that there is evidence at Cape Sable of a slight
recent subsidence. On the outer shore opposite
Lemon City the sea at one time since I have lived
here, encroached on the sandy shore and un-
covered peat of an old mangrove swamp which
is now submerged at low tide. Along the south
coast of the mainland the sea is eating into the
beach to such an extent that mangrove and
buttonwood trees are found for some distance out
into the bay. Finally the great area of mangrove
swamp which covers many thousands of acres in
the Ten Thousand Islands and along the south
and southeast coasts would seem further to indi-
cate that a subsidence is taking place. This need
not cause owners of bay front property in Lower
Florida any serious alarm since it is probable that
the mangroves and other shore vegetation are
building up the land as rapidly as it subsides.

Beginning at the southeastern shore of Vir-
ginia, thence extending into Dade County, Florida,
again appearing in Lee County, on the southwest
coast of our State and then continuing with

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 21

occasional interruptions around the Gulf of
Mexico to Yucatan, is a series of long, narrow,
sandy islands and peninsulas lying parallel with
the mainland shore and at no great distance from it.
They are usually low; rarely rising higher than
the limits of a storm tide, though in places they
assume the character of sand dunes, with a little
greater elevation. Between these islands and the
main shore there are usually shallow lagoons some-
times called rivers, though their water is salt or
brackish. In some places these lagoons fill up with
sediment with little or no water remaining and
thus form brackish swamps. It has often been
asserted that these sandy coastal islands result
from ocean currents running parallel with the shore
which carry and deposit sand in long, narrow bars,
constantly adding to these bars at the end where
the retreating water leaves them. While this may
be true in some cases I do not believe that the
action of such currents alone has formed most of
theseislands. In some instances these narrow land
bodies run parallel with the shores of bays where it
seems unlikely that any ocean currents would sweep
along the deeply incurved beaches. Besides this,
such long-shorecurrents could only build up thesand

22 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

to the level of an ordinary high tide, while these
elongated bars are generally considerably higher.

It seems more probable that these peculiar forma-
tions are caused by the action of the ordinary tides
aided by occasional storms which sweep in upon
the shore. Wherever a sandy sea bottom slopes
very gradually from the beach the waves stir up
the shifting sand for a long way off shore espe-
cially when strong tides are coming in or when
high winds blow towards the shore. This dis-
turbance of the water,—the ground swell, sweeps
up the sediment and loose sand at a depth of
several fathoms and often from a distance of some
miles out. After severe storms during which the
wind has blown towards the land, immense num-
bers of fish living in water of considerable depth
are occasionally cast upon the beach, their gills
choked with sand and mud. The water has been
so greatly disturbed they have perforce breathed
in the silt which they could not eject and have
literally drowned.

As the shore is neared and the water becomes
more shallow its landward movement is accel-
erated, so that in some places and under certain
conditions it rushes in with considerable speed.

Diagram to Illustrate the Formation of Sand Islands and
Peninsulas

a, a, a, sea level; b, b, b, sea bottom; cc, shore; d, d, ridge of sand
formed off shore along slack,water line, e. Arrows show direction of currents,

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 23

In Hawaii the natives with surf boards swim
out from just such shores and upon the wave
crests are swept in with great rapidity. At the
beach the wave-formed current turns back sea-
ward, retreating underneath into deeper water,
rapidly at first and more slowly as the depth in-
creases. This backward movement is called the
undertow, and swimmers are sometimes carried by
it out to sea. This outgoing undertow rapidly
slackens because of its friction against the bottom
and also against the incoming water above, and ata
certain distance from the shore, by reason of this
friction and of the increasing depth, it ceases to
advance and mingles with the comparatively slow
moving, incoming tide. All this water contains
silt and often the coarser sand, but only a little
of it is deposited between the beach and the line
of slack tide well off shore because of its too rapid
motion between these two points. Naturally a
considerable quantity of sand and mud must be
released and deposited where the undertow slack-
ens and ceases to flow.

Thus a ridge of silt begins to form along the line
of these mixed currents and slack water, parallel
to the shore and at some distance from it. Once

24 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

begun the ridge acts as an obstruction to the in-
coming and outgoing tides, and more and more
material is deposited on and against it from both
within and without. Finally the ridge builds up
to the level of high tide and a bay or so-called
“river” isa result. More sand is heaped against
the outside of the ridge during very high tides or
incoming storms until eventually it becomes a long
island or peninsula, sometimes ten feet or more in
height. The wind may sweep the sand into dunes;
seeds and the flotsam of the sea are cast upon it
and the island is covered with a mantle of vege-
tation. Such a tidal peninsula has been formed
between New River Inlet (near Fort Lauderdale)
and Cape Florida, and the upper end of Biscayne
Bay is the resulting ‘‘river’’ that lies behind it.
Beginning at Snake Creek at the upper end of the
bay and extending for some distance to the north-
ward the space back of the tidal land has.be-
come filled with vegetable muck until it is now
a swamp. There are generally open channels
at intervals between the bays or ‘“‘rivers’’ and
the open sea, through which the tides rush
swiftly.

Where the sea bottom slopes away very grad-

Upper View. Ragged Coral Limestone, Shore of Pumpkin Key, Upper Keys
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

Lower View. Small Coral Rock Key near Marathon, showing Erosion of the
, Sea and Overhanging Rock

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 25

ually often a second ridge is formed outside the
first. Such may be observed at Cape Canaveral.

Now as against this constructive action of the
sea in land building and extension there are many
opposing forces of destruction to offset it. Upon
every shore a contest is being waged by Nature’s
forces to build up, on the one hand, and extend the
land seaward, and to destroy the land, on the
other hand, and bury it beneath the sea. Thus
the constant changes we may see from year to
year along any beach.

Destruction of the land is chiefly caused by
erosion and by the solvent action of both fresh
and sea water. The surf is constantly bombard-
ing the rocky beaches with crashing wave volleys
while insiduously dissolving away the rocky shore
by the chemistry of its waters. Even the spray
thrown back from the shore, and forming pools
in the depressions in the limestone, gradually de-
stroys the hard rock much as some corrosive acid
would do. Between tides the water constantly
erodes and dissolves the limestone rock, often
causing a shelf to overhang for fifteen or twenty
feet. From above, the little holes of erosion be-
come eaten through, and every wave that thunders

26 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

in sends up spouts of solid water and spray. By
and by the overhanging shelf becomes weakened
and finally breaks off by its own weight or from a
particularly vicious blow from the sea.

I know of no word or combination of words
which would properly describe the sharpness, the
raggedness and jaggedness of some of these rocky
beaches along the Upper Keys. Compared with
them the rocky road to Dublin is a smooth,
macadam turnpike. Most of the rock of these
keys is very porous and the water from the heav-
iest of rains immediately sinks through it to tide
level, dissolving always more or less of it as it
passes along. Whenever there is a high tide on
the ocean side there is sure to be a correspondingly
low one inside or in the bays. Then especially
strong currents of sea water sweep through and
under the rock from the flood to the ebb side
taking heavy toll of rock substance as they pass.
I have counted as many as twenty streams of sea
water issuing from the outer side of old Rhodes
Key in a distance of as many rods, at a time of low
tide on that side of the island and high tide on
the other. Some of them were mere trickles but
a few were good-sized currents.

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 27

Eventually a weakened roof collapses over
one of these water passages but the debris is soon
dissolved and washed out and in time an open
passage from ocean to bay is formed. There
will be deep holes and shallows in these passages,
and along their banks mangroves may find lodg-
ment, sometimes even on the bare rock. The
tides rush through the newly made passage con-
stantly eating away its banks until the two sides
are widely separated. Many if not all the keys
have been more or less divided in this manner and
are still being worn away. The Ragged Keys,
a set of rocky islets at the northern end of the
chain (and most appropriately named), are striking
examples of this scouring and dissolving power
of the sea. . According to A. J. Sands and Otto
Matthaus, both long residents of the region,
Ragged Key Rock was, but a few years ago, about
fifty feet across and supported trees and shrubs.
The sea completely undermined it and then a
severe storm completed the wreck. Now there
remains but a small rock visible at low tide. It
is not unlikely that within a few centuries past
this now submerged rock was a part of a long island
lying to the south of it. The present gradual sub-

28 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

siding of this region certainly aids the sea very
materially in the destruction of the land. There
is no reason to doubt that the bays along the south
and southeast mainland coasts are slowly deepen-
ing and encroaching upon the land.

The sea water cannot dissolve all the limestone
which it destroys but it leaves a small residue.
This residue serves to augment the mud flats of
the bays and tidal channels. This is well seen
at the mouth of Cesar’s Creek and in the several
passages between Largo and Elliott’s keys. In his
Observations upon the Floridas, published in 1823,
Charles Vignoles stated that Key Largo was a
peninsula, connected with the mainland by a
portage of six boat-lengths, though now a navi-
gable channel separates the two. A cotton rat
(Sigmodon hispidus) and a cotton mouse (Pero-
myscus gossipium) both dry-land and swamp-fre-
quenting animals, but not swimmers, are found
on Key Largo, which would indicate that there
was formerly a land connection between the
mainland and the island. It is quite probable
that the water passage separating the two bodies of
land may be due to both solution and subsidence.
The former connecting neck of land did not, how-

dadiey ‘WW “y Aq oloug
Avy oquinoeyey IoMOT ‘HOY [e1OD pexeN] UO Zurmory soaorsuep Funox

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 29

ever, permit the migration across it of the highland
vegetation as the mainland just back of it was a
great swamp.

The dissolving of the soft limestone rock is
nowhere more evident than in the pine woods
bordering the Everglades. Before the recent
drainage of this region the glade lands were cov-
ered with fresh water throughout the rainy sea-
son, and sometimes during the entire year. Rain
water absorbs a considerable amount of carbonic
acid or carbon dioxide as it falls through the
atmosphere, and much more is added to it by
decomposing vegetation. This Everglade fresh
water often extends well out over the low pine
woods and has carved the rocky forest floor un-
til it is quite as rough and ragged as is that of
the keys. Hence the irregular sinks and many
potholes, and the uneven surface of villainous
knife-like edges which render walking over it
a really hazardous undertaking. In places the
honey-combed rock becomes so undermined and
rotten that it breaks under the tread, but woe
unto him who falls upon it!

So level is the general face of the country that
surface water sometimes seems undecided which

30 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

way to flow. It must then go downward through
the porous rock, eventually reaching the sea by
underground channels. Into these the tide often
flows back for long distances.

Wherever along the coast there is a slight ele-
vation it is dignified (in a double sense) by being
called a ‘‘bluff’’; every gentle swell of the surface
is at least some kind of ‘‘heights’’; some even apply
the name ‘‘mount”’ to their estates. Verily all
things are relative! ;

The widespread mantle of sand which covers
most of the drier part of the State is composed of
grains of quartz. On the coasts it is mixed with
finely broken marine shells. The problem of
the origin of this siliceous sand is an interesting
one. Just how it came to be dispersed over the
whole region is also of interest. Doubtless it is of
northern origin and some of it was washed down
by the rivers of the Appalachian mountains. The
cold return current which sweeps southward along
the Atlantic coast constantly brings cargoes of
it; the sea throws it up on the land and the winds
disperse it. Some of it is a residue from limestone
rocks formerly covering parts of the State but now
destroyed by action of the air and water. The

THE BUILDING OF THE LAND 31

blanket of sand reaches as far south as Miami and
Cape Florida on the southeast coast, and to Cape
Sable on the southwest. But the manner in which
it has been so generally distributed over Florida in
almost level beds, is probably not well understood.
At these two points the siliceous sands rather
abruptly cease and to the south the sand of the
beaches is composed entirely of broken bits of
coral, shells, and other marine growths,—with
little or no trace of quartz or of the older rocks.

There have been no violent convulsions, no
sudden or great disturbances during the geological
history of Florida since the original uplift of the
Florida bank, yet a ceaseless construction and
destruction of land have been goitig on within its
limits. The new land formed yesterday of silt
washed down by streams, by elevation or by the
deposition of vegetable matter, is being dissolved
to-day by carbon dioxide, worn away by stream
or surf action or carried below by subsidence.

CHAPTER II
The Florida Heys

ET us in fancy take a very large pair of
dividers, setting one point at Cape Romano
on the southwest coast of Florida, and the
other at Miami and then sweep the latter

point first south, then southwest, and finally west
until it reaches a spot west of south of the central
point. We have thereby fairly accurately marked
the curved axis of a group of islands called the
“Florida Keys.” From Miami another but irreg-
ular curve to the south and west nearly coincides
with the southeast and southern coasts of the main-
land. These two curved lines begin together on
the east coast but diverge as they make to the
south and west so that when Key Vaca on the first
line is reached, Cape Sable, which lies due north of
it on the second line, is twenty-eight miles distant.
The horn-shaped area of shallow water between
which separates the keys and the mainland is the
32

THE FLORIDA KEYS 33

Bay of Florida, Blackwater Bay, Barnes and Card
Sounds.

The axis of the great island chain corresponds
closely with the curve of the southern edge of
the ‘‘plateau,”’ the foundation of the Peninsula of
Florida. It also marks the northern border of
the Gulf Stream. The true keys begin at the
north with Soldier Key, a little islet about eleven
miles to the southward of Miami, though the reef
rock reaches just a bit north of this island. They
extend to the Tortugas, the westernmost island of
the chain and distant from the first (on the axis),
about one hundred and eighty miles. The islands
vary in size from the tiniest bit of rock, sand, or
mud, often crowned with a green boquet of man-
groves, to Key Largo, almost thirty miles long.
The crowning elevation is in the ‘‘knolls” at
Windley’s Island. Their dizzy height of eighteen
feet in so flat a region gives them by contrast a
real dignity.

Between the chain of keys and an outer reef
paralleling it lies the Hawk Channel, a long,
narrow body of shallow water with a maximum
depth of six fathoms, and >. width of from three to
six miles. This channel eatends from near Cape

34 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Florida to the Marquesas Islands. The reef is
largely formed of living coral, and is, no doubt,
an incipient chain of keys. With a slight uplift
a soil would soon be formed on the exposed reef,
seeds would be washed upon it, a forest would grow
and a second chain of keys, much like the present
one would be the result. |

Many years ago Louis Agassiz, the distinguished
naturalist, studied the Florida Keys. He main-
tained that they, together with the entire southern
part of Florida, were made up of coral reefs. He
stated that the ‘‘shore bluffs’? along the south
part of the mainland were simply an ancient coral
reef; that after crossing a flat expanse of land
called ‘‘The Indian Hunting Ground”’ a series of
elevations was reached which bore the name of
“The Hummocks”; that seven such reefs and
interspaces had been traced between the ‘‘shore
bluffs’” and Lake Okeechobee. He further be-
lieved that the entire peninsula was of coral for-
mation and made an estimate of its age based on
the normal growth rate of living corals.

There is no real foundation for these statements
or theories, and if Agassiz had actually explored
the mainland he certainly would have fallen into

THE FLORIDA KEYS 35

no such error. There are no bluffs anywhere
along the shore. I have been inland for a con-
siderable distance from Cape Romano, Chokolos-
kee, Rodgers River, and other places along the
southwest coast; and I am very familiar with Cape
Sable and the country back of it; with Coot,
Madeira, and other neighboring bays, and I have
explored Cuthbert Lake along the south coast and
there is no evidence of coral growth at any of these
places. The Florida East Coast Railway enters
the mainland on the southeast coast and runs
through an unbroken swamp to Florida City, fif-
teen miles from the shore. The Flamingo region
is alluvium and that to the east of it is marl, Cape
Sable is a sand bank based on an old mangrove
swamp. The Ten Thousand Islands are swamp
with a few artificial mounds. Nowhere is there
coral.

Because of its eminent originator this theory of
the development of Lower Florida has been very
generally accepted. The only possible foundation
it could rest upon is the fact that a part of the
keys and all the outer reef are built of coral.

A glance at the charts of the Florida Keys
shows that the islands of the upper part of the chain

36 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

are long and narrow and that their axis is parallel
with the edge of the Gulf Stream while the islands
of the lower group are very different both in shape
and arrangement. The eastern islands of the
lower group are somewhat elongated but they lie
across the axis of the chain. Those on the west
are very irregular in form, constituting a small but
amazingly complicated archipelago, in which there
seems to be no systematic alignment whatever.
A careful inspection of the charts will also show
that the upper chain of islands apparently blends
with the lower group leaving as doubtful in their
true relationship Bahia Honda, the West Summer-
land Keys, a narrow strip of land belonging to
the southern end of Big Pine Key, and the New-
found Harbor Keys. With the latter keys,
however, the upper chain seems positively to
end.

The upper islands are an old coral reef formerly
built along the edge of the great peninsular pla-
teau. It was subsequently raised slightly, so
naturally the chain consists of long, narrow islands
running parallel with the Gulf Stream. I feel sure
that the lower group of keys is a remnant of what
was once a single large island which lay along the

THE FLORIDA KEYS 37

northern part of this great ocean river and which
had been raised above the sea by the first Pleisto-
cene elevation. It extended from East and West
Bahia Honda Keys (on the east) to Key West or
possibly even further west, and from the Content,
Sawyer, Johnson’s, Mud, West Harbor, and
Northwest Boca Chica Keys (on the north) to the
inner edge of the Hawk Channel (on the south).
While this large island was entire, and perhaps
even since that time, various animals and the seeds
of tropical plants were brought to it, largely by the
Gulf Stream; these became colonized and finally
generally distributed over it. At the time of the
second depression (during later Pleistocene) the
island subsided slightly, but not sufficiently
to drown out completely its dry-land life. Its
eastern end was lowered until the waters of the
Gulf of Mexico occasionally swept over the lower
portions during severe northers. I found sea
shells of existing species scattered abundantly
along the southwest shore of Big Pine Key at a
height of about three feet above tide, and these
probably marked the extent of the greatest de-
pression. The water which was driven across
the low land scoured out a series of parallel chan-

38 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

nels having a north-northwest, south-southeast
direction and it is also likely that it formed pas-
sages under the rock which later became open tidal
streams. Johnson, Little Pine, No Name, Big
Pine, Torch, and Summerland Keys are long,
narrow islands lying between these channels and
conforming with them in general direction as do
several bars which lie just east of these keys. The
tidal periods differ in the Gulf of Mexico and in
Florida Strait, hence there is a rush of water from
one side to the other, which, even under normal
conditions operates always to dissolve the rock
and scour out the debris.

The westernmost of the larger north and south
channels is between Sugar Loaf and Cudjoe Key
and to the westward of this there is a different
arrangement of land and water. Apparently this
western area did not subside sufficiently to permit
the water of the Gulf to drive across it so freely,
hence, there are but a few small channels cut
through. One channel seems to be now forming
east of Big Coppitt and also another one west of
Boca Chica. There are two or three other rela-
tively small openings.

Several years ago in company with Dr. Pilsbry

THE FLORIDA KEYS 39

of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Phila-
delphia I was storm bound during a very severe
norther at the mouth of Pelot’s Creek, a narrow
passage east of Boca Chica. For three days the
sea water, filled with silt to a coffee color, and
bearing floating timber and all manner of rubbish,
was driven through this little channel at the rate
of ten miles an hour. Although it was early in
April the strong wind was bitterly cold and we
were obliged to get our launch into that creek
where we would find the only shelter. It took
three of us with the tow rope and the full power
of the engine to get the boat in, and once or
twice it very nearly broke away. The third day
of our enforced stay Dr. Pilsbry became anxious
to get to Key West en route home, and against
the boatman’s protests we made the attempt
to leave. With a line from the stern to a man-
grove we cast off forward and once fairly in the
stream and with the engine full ahead we shot
down the channel at railway speed. The wind
had driven the sea a quarter of a mile away from
the beach but through the channel across the
beach we were swept at a terrific rate. The bow
struck a bar and we whirled around like a top.

40 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Before reaching the sea, we struck something
side-on in a broadside rush that threw some of us
overboard. There we remained miserably ex-
posed to the fury of the wind for six or seven hours
when the norther ceased, and the returning sea
floated us. This will give some idea of the force
with which the water is driven across the keys
and its power to cut channels.

The greater part of the dry land (especially
toward the western end of the archipelago) is
found in its southern part. It may be this once
formed a low, continuous ridge which acted as a
dam to prevent the water of the Gulf from break-
ing across into the strait. Thesea water, however,
entered by seepage into the low, rocky land of the
western part of the archipelago and by under-
mining has broken it down into a confusing
irregularity of outline. There are places in some
of the lagoons where the water is six or seven feet
deep showing undoubtedly that the rock has been
removed by solution.

Probably all of Ramrod and several other small
keys have subsided slightly but enough to convert
them into mangrove swamps. The dry-land vege-
tation upon them has been destroyed, and almost

THE FLORIDA KEYS 41

no traces of any of the large arboreal snails are to
be found.

Geologists believe that the islands west of Key
West are of very recent origin, at least so far as
their elevation above the sea is concerned. While
those which lie between Key West and Boca
Grande are of oolitic formation the Marquesas
and Tortugas are composed of finely broken re-
mains of various marine animals. At Tortugas
extensive coral reefs have developed in the shal-
lows along the edges of the land, the finest growth
of this kind, perhaps, in the United States. The
Marquesas, which consist of one large and several
small islets, have an outline resembling a round-
headed kite. The group is really an atoll, the
outer keys forming a rim which encloses a shallow
lagoon. It is not, however, a true coral atoll like
those of the Pacific. The rock bed forming the
foundation of the Marquesas was probably built
up or elevated to very near the level of the sea.
Wave action afterwards heaped up sand around
the border and this now forms the dry land of the
atoll. This sand covering has prevented or re-
tarded dissolution of the foundation rock, but in
the interior’ the less protected rock has been dis-

42 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

solved until a lagoon was formed. The Tortugas
are believed to be an imperfect atoll, developed
in much the same way as the Marquesas; so also
is a minute island, ‘‘Key C,” lying to the west-
ward of Key West. Boca Grande is also a pseudo
atoll of the Marquesas type.

In 1916 I visited the Marquesas for the purpose
of finding a rare palm which had been discovered
there several years before. As we drew near we
sighted it among the thick scrub on the east side
of the main island, and it proved at once to
be a very distinct and handsome species. This is
Thrinax keyensis of Professor Sargent only known
from this group of islands and possibly from
another small key of the lower chain. It has a
stout, ashy gray stem, sometimes twenty-five feet
high, raised on a conical base of matted roots.
The shining rich green fan-shaped leaves have a
brilliant silver color beneath, and are scattered
for some distance along the trunk. It is really
one of our most beautiful palms and quite distinct
from any other in the State. Although unreported
from any locality outside of this restricted area it
is probable that it may yet be discovered in the
Bahamas or West Indies. The islands on which

THE FLORIDA KEYS 43

it has been found are so recent that it seems
improbable a new species of palm could develop
on them. With this we found also another,
Thrinax wendlandiana, a native of Cuba but quite
generally distributed over the Florida Keys and
the south shore of the mainland.

Aside from the common littoral vegetation, the
mangrove, Avicennia, Laguncularia, and button-
wood (which fringe all the keys) the only trees
seen were the very common poison tree (Metopium
metopium), Pithecolobium guadelupensis (also
abundant in Lower Florida), and two stoppers,—
Eugenia buxifolia and E. rhombea, the latter being
confined in the United States to the Lower Keys.
A few grasses and herbaceous plants were found
and an intensive search brought to light but a
single minute land snail, one of the Pupillide.
The impression gained was that since the islet
group formed there had been insufficient time for
any considerable flora or fauna to develop.

But there are still younger keys in this region.
Sand Key, about six miles southwest of Key West
is one of these—a mere rick of broken corals, shells,
and sand, heaped up by the sea. It is an island
of to-day. Not over an acre in extent it is used

44 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

as the site of a light house and weather station.
On it are a few herbaceous plants—the first forms
which nature establishes on newly made tropic
land. These are a Tournfortia, a cousin of the
cultivated heliotrope, a hoary leaved half shrub
with white blossoms; Sesuvium portulacastrum, a
creeper on the sands with thick leaves such as
many of the shore plants have, and with it the
widespread goat’s foot (Ibomea pes-capre). The
latter has round, glossy leaves with a cleft at the
apex, and large, handsome, purple flowers. With
these are a few other salt loving plants.

_ On this tiny islet were immense numbers of the
least tern (Sterna antillarum), which, at the time
of my last visit, were nesting, if simply laying eggs
on the open sand could be so called. All of the
sandy portion of the key was used for this purpose,
and the only preparation for nesting consisted in
moving the fragments of coral sufficiently to offer
a smooth place on which to sit. I saw no birds
actually sitting on eggs; probably they do this only
at night leaving the hot sun to do the work of
hatching. They flew around us angry and scream-
ing when approached,—a wholly unnecessary
demonstration since they are protected by law

THE FLORIDA KEYS 45

from any interference during their nesting season.
This graceful little bird was formerly abundant
along the Atlantic coast but is now becoming
quite scarce. We were told that this is their only
breeding place on the Lower Keys.

If, geologically speaking, Sand Key is an island
born to-day there are others in the chain which
are only just hatching. Western, Middle, and
Eastern Sambo, lying east and south of Key West
are such. So indeed is Looe Key, to the south of
Ramrod Key, and also belonging to the outer reef.
As yet these possess no vegetation whatever and
the sea still breaks over them in heavy storms.
At some distance out in the Hawk Channel in the
vicinity of Key West is an incipient third reef
lying within the outer one, and belonging to this
are the Middle Ground, Washerwoman, Missis-
sippi, and other shoals which are doubtless under-
going the process of being formed into keys.

This, then, is nature’s workshop for the making
of islands, in which can be traced every process
from the first coral polyp that attaches itself
to the bottom and starts an incipient reef to the
completed island raised well above the highest
normal tide; or, from a tiny bar of mud or sand

46 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

deposited by some wayward ocean current to a
great key covered with forests and other minor
vegetation. Here countless bacteria change in-
visible mineral elements in the sea water into
impalpable mud which in turn hardens and be-
comes rock. Here the mangroves toil to gather
together and lay a foundation for what shall later
be fertile soil. The sea in unceasing restless move-
ment brings in material from near and far and
heaps it up into shoals and future islands. But
then with seeming inconsistency it turns and
angrily smites and washes away these islands of
its own making; it tears up the solid rock which
it built along the shores, smashing it into frag-
ments and scattering it far and wide. By its own
chemical warfare it destroys the very limestone
fortress it built so well.

In seeming caprice the inconstant ocean creates
the islands and devours them at the same time,—
industriously building to-day—busily demolish-
ing to-morrow. So delicately balanced are these
opposing forces that the slightest change in con-
ditions may cause the upbuilding to stop and the
wrecking to begin. If the wind is gentle and sea
smooth the constructive work progresses; if the

THE FLORIDA KEYS 47

wind increases ever so little the waves tear down
and destroy. Again, the very same forces may
operate in exactly the opposite manner. But the
work never stops,—constructive or destructive, it
never ceases for one second.

The flora of the entire chain of islands is inter-
esting, notwithstanding the terrible devastation
that man has wrought upon it. It is mostly
derived from the American tropics, the majority
of the plants being Cuban. Nearly all the higher
land was once covered with forest which varied
from low dense thorny scrub to tall closely set
growth. The latter has doubtless been long
established and a considerable amount of leaf
mold has accumulated. Usually in such ham-
mocks the ground is level and the rock is buried
beneath a vegetable humus. In this spongy soil
where one often sinks shoe deep little under-
growth is seen. Some of the trees are of goodly
girth and their straight trunks bear aloft dense
heads of foliage. Such hammocks still exist on
No Name, Pumpkin, Lignum-vite, Old Rhodes,
Elliott’s, and on Key Largo. <A few years ago a
hammock that was perhaps the finest and most
extensive in the lower part of the State covered

48 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the latter island for several miles in the vicinity of
Cross Key. The Florida East Coast Railway cut
a right of way through this for the Key West
extension of its line and piled the felled timber
along the edges of the clearing. When it was
fairly dried out it was set on fire by sparks from
the locomotives (so claimed) and this unfor-
tunately communicated to the forest. For months
the fire slowly ate its way through the peatlike
soil and as it crept along its ruinous way the grand
old giants of the hammock toppled and fell, a
tragedy in every fall. Every vestage of the soil
was consumed and to-day the charred ruin glares
in the sun as a silent and pathetic protest against
useless waste and folly. A few young trees are
springing up here and there and thorny vines
are beginning to scramble over the melancholy
wreck. Nature will in time conceal her wound
beneath a green mantle—but the fine forests is
forever gone.

Several years ago there was an almost equally
fine hammock on No Name Key but the:settler’s
fire and ax have changed the greater part of it
into a desert. In 1907 I became lost in a splendid
forest of silver palms on Bahia Honda Key but

leug “yy uyof ‘1q Aq ojoyg
Avy equinseyeyy ieddn wroy snoiey mon Y ‘[TeUS }8uys2ap snasray

THE FLORIDA KEYS 49

on making a search for these palms three years ago
I found the spot on which they stood as bare as a
prairie. Onsome of the Upper Keys the hammock
was cut in order that its owners might plant pine-.
apples. In places the surface of the islands was
formerly a bed of broken rock and coral and on
this the forest eventually sprung. Ages after-
wards the rocky floor became overlaid with a deep
coating of leaf mold, the patient work of nature in
transforming the abundant growth into a fertile
soil. As soon as the forest was destroyed the
roots began to decay, the soil washed down
through the bed of loose porous rock, and in five
years nothing was left but the old original stony
fields. Finally the pineapple crops were no longer.
profitable, failing as the soil departed. Now
comes the experiment of lime trees, planted either
on these bare rocky beds or in the virgin forest
cut to receive them. Thus the hammocks on the
keys are being rapidly destroyed and will soon be
a thing of the past.

On other parts of these islands there is only a
dense, tropical scrub, much like that of the Ba-
hamas. The floor is of the sharpest, most irregu-
lar limestone with almost no soil. Gumbo limbo

50 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

(Bursera); wild tamarind (Lysiloma); Trema flort
dana; cat’s claw (Pithecolobium) ; poison tree (Me-
topium), and a few other low trees constitute the
main scrub. On the Upper Keys there are acres
of stunted century plants, often growing so densely
that it is impossible to get through; with them
are several kinds of Opuntias or prickly pears and
the terrible Cereus pentagonus which sprawls over
all. In lower ground a Bumelia (B. angustifolia),
usually a dense shrub, has narrow leaves and vicious
thorns. A half vine (Amerimnon) almost fills
solid the spaces in which it grows. One could no
more force his way through a haystack than
through a patch of this shrub. And everywhere
the whole is literally bound together by the pull-
and-haul-back (Pisonia), the vilest thorny shrub
in Florida.

The breeze is almost entirely shut out of this
dense scrub; usually millions of mosquitoes and
sand flies torture anyone entering it during the
warmer part of the year, and sometimes even in
the winter. I have had a good deal of experience
as a naturalist collector in temperate, subtropical,
and tropical regions and I am ready to go on
record with the statement that the wilds of Lower

Trews ‘yy uyof ‘iq Aq oyo4g
Avy equindsaiyeyl JOMOT WoIJ rFur2ap snasa7y JO SJUR[q INO 3un}0H)

THE FLORIDA KEYS 51

Florida can furnish as much laceration and as
many annoyances to the square inch as any place
I have ever seen. When one has been at work on
the keys or parts of the mainland for a week his
body and limbs are filled with thorns of every
description, and there is scarcely a spot on him
that is not bitten by insects. A man who can
endure all this and never lose his temper is fit to be
a king; he can govern himself and he should be
able to govern others.

On one occasion I undertook a trip alone, going
by rail to Big Pine Key and tramping back from
station to station, the most of these being mere
flag stops. I searched the big island for the nearly
extinct arboreal snail (Liguus solidus) with poor
results, and then tried to get over to No Name
Key, a mile away. I was told that a negro had a
skiff and might carry me over if I hunted him up.
His name is Joseph Sears, a powerful man in the
prime of life. His shirt and trousers were full of
holes but such a magnificent physique was a
goodly sight to behold. When I asked him if he
could take me to No Name he looked doubtfully
at the weather and shook his head. A very
strong wind had been blowing from the north-

52 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

east for several days and the sea was exceed-
ingly rough.

“‘T doan’ know, sah,”’ he said, ‘‘dis mighty bad
win’, an’ dar’ll be a big sea in de channel. I
doubt if I can put yo acrass, sah.”

I told him I was very anxious to go and again
he surveyed the weather. ‘‘If dere’s any mans
in dis islan’ can put yo ’crass it’s Joséf’’—the
accent on the last syllable—‘‘but yo got no idee
how rough it is in dat channel.’ I strongly urged
him to make an attempt, and at last after scratch-
ing his head several times and telling me that
No Name was full of rattlesnakes he said:

“T try it, boss, but I tell yo one t’ing, if I put
yo ’crass yo got to pay me mighty well foh it.”

I had only money enough reasonably to carry
me through the trip, and as I thought that ‘‘ Joséf”
intended to make me pay an exorbitant price I
very reluctantly concluded to give up going.
However, I plucked up sufficient courage to ask
how much.

“‘Hit’ll take de bes’ paht of a day, boss, an’ I
bleedzed to chahge yo dollah an’ a half.”

As soon as I could recover from my astonishment
at his exorbitant figure I told him we would go.

THE FLORIDA KEYS 53

His fine, strong boat, the ‘‘Three Fannys,”’ he
hauled into the water and got me aboard. Before
he could ship the oars she had drifted quite a dis-
tance to the leeward, such was the force of the
wind. It blew across from No Name Key, a full
mile away, and the sea was covered with white
caps. For a long time ‘‘Joséf’’ made scarcely any
headway, gaining a little when the wind lulted
and dropping back when it blew harder. I, en-
couraged him, but he said: ‘‘Dis nottin’; wait till
yo get in de channel, den she shake yo up.”’

Sure enough, we did get shaken up when we got
to the channel. He expended all this splendid
strength in trying to drive the boat ahead as he
continually shouted to the sea and his skiff.
‘‘W’at yo mean comin’ heah dis away?” ‘‘Keep
off fum heah an’ lemme ’lone.”’ ‘‘Stan’ up to her
ole gal an’ doan’ let her knock yo out.’’ Whenever
a big sea struck us he gave vent to a whoop that
could have been heard to No Name.

Little by little he worked across the channel,
but when nearly across a heavy sea struck us and
knocked the port oar and rowlock out. The boat
fell off broadside to the sea and for a minute I was
sure we would capsize. I got the rowlock in place

54 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and climbed up on the weather gunwale, but in a
short time he had the oar in place and brought the
head of the boat into the wind.

‘‘Man, suh,” he said, ‘‘ef dat boat capsize we
drif’ out into de Gu’f Stream an’ de shahks sure
get us!”

Across the channel the water became smoother
and we soon landed at an old wharf. ‘‘Joséf”
took me to a fine hammock and helped me search
for tree snails, but we found only a few dead ones.
He told me he had helped to cut down a lot of the
original forest several years before.

‘‘Man,” said he, ‘I could a-got yo a hatful
ob dem snail den!”

Towards evening of another day I tramped into
the little village of Vaca or ‘‘Conch Town,” a
settlement of Bahama negroes, where I tried in
vain to get a bed and food; no one would let me
sleep indoors but at last I got permission to occupy
a ramshackle outhouse. I hurriedly put up my
mosquito bar and as I had no supper I rolled up in
my blanket and tried to fit my body to the irregu-
lar, rocky floor. Notwithstanding the fact that
the night was cold the mosquitoes were bad. I
soon became completely chilled. The dogs be-

THE FLORIDA KEYS 55

longing to the family having a better title to the
shanty came in to occupy it with me. In order
to get warm they huddled close to me and tore
down my bar, letting in the mosquitoes. I got up
and undertook to walk about in order to warm
myself, but on account of the irregular rocky floor
and the darkness I was in danger of falling, so I
went back to my flea-bitten dogs. Later a train
came rushing along not far away and I made my
way out and walked up and down the track until
after an age, as it seemed to me, I saw the first
streaks of the blessed dawn.

In the morning I got a few cooked black beans
from the proprietor of my hotel and started north
along the track, collecting and studying geology.
That evening I arrived at another flag station
and applied at a fairly decent-looking house for
lodging and supper. It was evident that the
woman who came to the door did not welcome me,
and when I told her I wasn’t a tramp, but a wan-
dering naturalist, she said: ‘‘O, they all ’as some
fine hexcuse; there was one ’ere the other day as
said ’e was a doctor, but ’e was nothing but a
tramp, an’ ’e was better dressed than you.” Then
I went out to the railroad and looked myself over.

56 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

I wore a tolerably whole suit of khaki, not too
clean, however, for I had lately gone through a
freshly burnt district and I was covered with
black marks. My coat and wool hat were torn
by ‘“‘pull-and-haul-back” vines and my strong
leather shoes were literally cut to pieces on the
sharp rocks, so that I had been compelled to tie
them on to my lacerated feet with old pieces of
cloth. If anything else was lacking in my make-
up to prove that I was a genuine knight of the
road, the two-quart water can which I carried
completed the evidence. So I “’unted up a
hempty 'ouse’”’ as the woman had suggested, put
up my bar, made a bed of grass, and as the weather
had moderated, I slept royally. The next after-
noon I flagged the train and arrived home after
dark, having been thirty-eight hours without
food.

The waters of the key region are exceedingly
shallow, the bottom either being composed of
ragged rock or very soft, almost fathomless mud.
Navigation chiefly consists in getting aground
and getting afloat again. One never makes an
extended cruise among the keys without getting
‘piled up” as it is called, often several times a

Tewg “yy uyof ‘1q Aq oyoyg
1798D JO puoyT B YM Ady oquinds}¥yy IoMOT IeoU BUTIE0q “S¥yD 0} suZuC}9g yeog Zurs0jdxq aaqieg O"L

THE FLORIDA KEYS 57

day, and strangely enough this generally seems
to occur when the tide is falling. If the boat
gets on the rock bottom one is fortunate if it is
not seriously injured; if it gets fast in the mud
there is pretty sure to be an amazing amount of
trouble getting afloat. In the former case every-
body must get overboard and try to lift the boat
out of the grip of the ragged rock. If the vessel is
fast in the mud poles will do little good as they
can usually be pushed to full length into the soft
marl. The engine is reversed, all must get out,
sometimes sinking in to the waist, and lift until
they can see stars. Often the boat is delayed for
hours.

The greater part of Big Pine, Little Pine, a
part of No Name, and one or two other keys of
the lower chain are covered with an open forest
of the common Caribbean pine of the lower main-
land, interspersed with one or two Thrinax palms,
but only a few pines are found on the Upper Keys.
The surface of the Lower Keys is largely plate
rock, far less ragged than that of the upper chain
of islands. This and the fact that the former
are almost free from the sharp pointed, dwarf
Agave and entirely so from the dreadfully spiny

58 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

sprawling Cereus make it much easier to get about
them.

Notwithstanding the fact that the forests
of these islands bristle with a great variety of
thorns; in spite of the stifling heat within them;
the uneven rocky floor; the difficult navigation,
and the hosts of tormenting insects, the Florida
Keys possess many charms and allurements to
the lover of nature, or to the observant, intelligent
tourist. There are over 600 species of flowering
plants known to inhabit these islands and a large
variety of interesting birds. The entomologist
finds here a rich field and the reefs swarm with
varied and vividly colored life. Many of the
beaches are composed of gleaming white coral
sand and everywhere there is the intense glow of
the sunlight which is characteristic of the tropics.
There is often a peculiar shimmer of the dazzling
light in which distant islands are lifted up mirage-
like into the atmosphere, even until their connec-
tion with the earth seems severed. The various
tintings of the sea from pale to deep green and
through almost every shade of blue are entrancing.

Finally the Florida Kéys are the only bit of the
real tropics within the limits of the United States.

Teutg “yy uyof iq Aq ovoUg
Qeuokeq ystredg) eyopojye e2an x

CHAPTER III
The Ten Thousand Islands

EN THOUSAND ISLANDS,—the very
name savors of mystery, of the joys of
exploration and discovery.

Beginning just south of Naples on the
southwest coast of Florida this archipelago ex-
tends southeast in an unbroken curve to North-
west Cape Sable its concave side towards the sea.
Those most familiar with the region say the group
of islands has an average width of eight to ten
miles. The entire region consists of a myriad of
low islands, covered with tall, slender, closely set
mangroves having but few buttressed roots, with
here and there, some black mangrove, button-
wood, white mangrove, and a few other swamp-
loving trees. Along the sea front and for some dis-
tance inland the islands are separated by channels
of varying width and often of considerable depth.
Through these the tides sweep strongly, dissolving

60 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and scouring out their rocky bottoms. These pas-
sages are drains for the surplus water of the Ever-
glades and of the low lands back of the archipelago.

As one penetrates the group towards the main-
land these tideways become shallower and nar-
rower; the low-lying land rises very slightly and
occasional saw palmettos and cabbage palms
appear. Ficus aurea, Ilex cassine, and wax myrtle
are soon after met and finally, still farther on, are
low prairies with scattered pine and cypress. So
the Ten Thousand Islands gradually merge into
the mainland like a dissolving film change and it
is difficult to say just where one ends or the other
begins.

I am told by those who know that there is no
natural land in the entire region which rises above
the level of an extremely high tide. I have been
over much of it and my observation confirms the
statement. Just north of Cape Sable for seven
or eight miles fronting the open sea, the dense
lofty mangrove forest stands like a solid green
wall seventy or eighty feet high. The Gulf of.
Mexico bathes the roots of this wonderful growth
and although its great swells roll in against them
over an open reach of a thousand miles they do

Ileuig ‘yy uyof ‘iq Aq ojoug
H ysuresy sjeog Apjuejsu0g pue ysolog sty} jo PleAjsaM OY} 0} Sol] Sol. puesnoyy B I0J
SuIqIeNg vag uedo ‘aiqeg adep jo yon Jsnf oorxey Jo IND oy} Fupeg ye eaosueL JUIN

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 61

but little harm. But few dead or fallen trees are
ever seen, though in westerly storms the sea must
assault them with terrific fury. This lofty, sullen
forest, opposing in gloomy grandeur the open ocean
and ever defying its force, is one of the most awe-
inspiring sights in Florida.

North of this forest wall is a deep bay or in-
dentation of the shore nearly three miles across
and extending about two miles inland; there begin
the numerous islands of the Shark River Archi-
pelago,—really a part of the Ten Thousand
Islands. It, too, is a maze of islands, channels,
lagoons, mud flats, and low, wet prairies and
forests, the latter of mangrove and other littoral
vegetation. The water varies from salt to brack-
ish, though in places it is actually fresh, the salin-
ity depending on the season and rains. A vast
amount of Everglades drainage passes through
the Shark River Archipelago. This island laby-
rinth extends to the east and southeast for twenty
miles, even penetrating the region back of the
slightly elevated prairie east of Cape Sable. In
fact it nearly reaches the south coast, where it is
generally known as White Water Bay. There
are several open bodies of water within this area

62 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

which have received names,—such as Coot Bay,
Bear Lake, and Mud Hole Lake, the last name
being especially appropriate and equally applicable
toall. The whole region is incorrectly represented
on our maps. Obviously it is an amazingly diffi-
cult and complicated territory to survey, but the
need of it is not very pressing.

The Coast and Geodetic Survey have merely
outlined the edges of the islands which face the
Gulf of Mexico. Natives of the region no doubt
have extensively explored the archipelago but it
is probable that many of the islands have never
been visited by white man. The Seminole In-
dians pass through in their dugouts to and from
their camps on the mainland but I do not think
that any of them actually live in the region.
They have occasional camps in the low pine
woods which alternate with cypress swamps,
(‘‘strands” as they are called) on the borderland.

Several of the outlying isles facing the sea have
sandy beaches as is the case along most of the
Florida west coast. In some places, notably out-
side of Lostmans Key or island, there is a wide
area of sand washed up by the surf. The name,
' by the way, of this island is in dispute, some

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 63

setting forth the claims of one Mr. Lossman and
others preferring the legend of a man lost upon
it. There is a hammock somewhere on Lostmans
reported to harbor a colony of the large tree snails.
I landed once for the purpose of stalking them.
There were five in our party and evening being
near, we separated and struck out for the interior,
agreeing that the first to reach the hammock
should shout for the others. From a sandy prairie
I entered a dense, lofty forest of mangroves and
Avicennias, not paying much attention to direc-
tion in my eagerness to find the hammock. Oc-
casionally the floor of the swamp was somewhat
open, probably because the forest was so dense
that nothing could grow under it. In other spots
the trees did not stand quiteso close and young man-
groves and other littoral vegetation grew thickly.
It was a very dry time and the ground muck was
fairly firm, making walking less difficult; though in
places I sank at every step to my ankles. On ac-
count of the occasional thick undergrowth I could
not maintain a straight course, but hurried on
rapidly as possible toward what I supposed was
the center of the island. Having tramped and
floundered along for half a mile or more I noticed

64 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

that the sunlight no longer came from the west
but from the northeast instead. I realized that I
was lost in this gloomy forest with night just at
hand.

My sense of orientation is so poor that the bow
of a boat continues to point always in the same
direction as when I got aboard. For some time I
labored about without any idea of direction and
finally resigned myself to the unhappy thought of
anight in theswamp. Though the mosquitoes were
not at their worst they were abundant enough to
make sleep impossible, and moreover, they were
increasing as the light faded. I tried to figure out
where the shore should be but it was no use.

Losing oneself in a forest where the consequences
are likely to be serious is most disquieting. The
feeling that one’s wits have deserted him, and the
sense of lonely helplessness are most depressing.
I searched my pockets for matches, and found in-
stead asmall forgotten compass. I knew the shore
must lie to the southwest so violating my confused
ideas of direction I followed the course the needle
indicated. I pressed ahead excitedly and as fast
as possible, now and then turning aside where the
young growth was too dense to push through.

UBL W10}styaIg Aq
YT STISUS 1eGIO pues Jo}SAQ Jo pasoduroD sI pues, oy ‘SspuL[S[ puesnoyy vey ‘puvjsy vayYsojoyoyD

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 65

Before long the forest was a little more open in
front and a short distance farther I emerged at the
very spot where I had crawled through into the
swamp an hour before. The sun had set and as I
hastened across the rolling sandy plain I saw our
launch at anchor and the skiff on the beach.
Some of our party were just coming out of the
swamp, but none of them had found the hammock.
I concluded that the name ‘‘Lostmans Key” was
entirely appropriate.

Here and there among the Ten Thousand
Islands are shell mounds, some of them of con-
siderable size; indeed that on Chokoloskee Island
is said to cover two hundred acres. I may remark
in passing that like the geography of this region
the spelling of allits namesis very confusing. The
name of this particular island is variously written;
on some of the maps the island is spelled one way
and the village another. There is a ‘‘Harney”’
or ‘‘Hurney” River; the same stream is called
‘““Chokaliskee,” ‘‘Chokaluskee,” ‘‘Chokoloskee’’
and ‘‘Turners’’ River. On some maps a great
arm of the sea, twenty miles wide and over thirty
long, enters this region just north of Cape Sable

and is called ‘‘Ponce de Leon Bay” and again
5 j

66 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

‘“‘White Water Bay.” The entrance into this bay
is in reality a narrow, brackish stream, or rather
the two delta mouths, of Jos River and Big Sable
Creek which open to the Gulf of Mexico through
the great wall of mangrove forest. There is also
a water connection to the north with the Shark
River -Archipelago. Chokoloskee Bay is some-
times represented as a large triangular sound and
again as a mere constricted channel. On some
maps it is not indicated at all.

The village of Chokoloskee is built on a great
island shell mound in one place thirty-five feet
high. At another spot on the top of a mound a
space forty feet square is leveled off as if intended
for a lookout or possibly for the site of a building.
In places the shells are disposed in long parallel
ricks, as though the Indians who placed them had
begun the process at the shore and gradually
moved inland. The shells forming these mounds
are all of species now living in the Gulf of Mexico
near by and are mostly the common oyster (Ostrea
virginica); Fulgur perversus, a large, reversed shell;
F. pyrum, Fasciolaria gigantea, the largest gastro-
pod mollusk of the new world, F. tulipa, F. distans,
Melongena corona, and Murex pomum. There are

Tews “yt uyof ‘iq Aq oxy
PUL]s] BeYSojoyoyD wo ssnoyY yey oyewmyeg jeodsT Y ,,;ewoOH JeMG ‘ourOH,,

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 67

also great numbers of the big clam, Venus mor-
toni, several species of the Macrocallistas, Telli-
nas, Lucinas, Dosinias, and other bivalve mol-
lusk genera. Without doubt the flesh of all these
were used for food by the aborigines formerly
living here.

Who built these mounds; what kind of people
were they; whence came they; how long did they
remain; what has become of them? Were they
of the same race that built the fresh-water shell
mounds along the St. John’s River in northern
and central Florida and elsewhere north to New
England? Did they drive out some still older
race when they occupied this territory and has
some later tribe conquered and exterminated
them? What of their lives, their habits, and
customs? The archeologist has examined their
shell heaps and found where they made their fires,
he has unéarthed broken human bones,—were
they cannibals? He has found entire human
bones, sometimes laid out as if for burial. He
has gathered many fragments of coarse pottery,
sometimes plain, sometimes decorated, and he
has compared them with pottery from distant
mounds. He has taken from the shell heaps what

68 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

seem to be bone implements, some of them made
for purposes that he cannot even guess.

There are other low mounds in this region made
of earth with a slight admixture of shells. There
are also long, straight canals cut through what
are now mangrove forests, some of which contain
water and are more or less navigable for canoes.
Sometimes a layer of shells alternates with one of
soil, as though the mound had been inhabited and
built up for a certain time and then abandoned.
Whether the same tribe returned after long ab-
sence or another came we do not know. In some
of the mounds the pottery of the upper layers is
of a finer quality and more artistically finished
than that from below; this conveys the idea that
the growth of the mound was of long duration;
possibly that it had been inhabited by different
tribes.

Jeffreys Wyman and Clarence B. Moore have
made extensive investigations among the freshwater
shell mounds of Florida and the latter has studied
these same marine shell mounds, but only a begin-
ning has really been made and results are meager.
Even in Europe, where the remains of prehistoric
man have been exhaustively studied, archzologists

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 69

differ fundamentally on many vital points, such
as the duration of certain tribes, the time of their
appearance and disappearance, and on many
details concerning their lives.

Let us suppose that by some terrible catastrophe
the entire population of the United States should
be destroyed and the whole country left unin-
habited for ages. Then, say, ten thousand years
after this devastation some wandering arche-
ologist should visit what was formerly Dade
County, Florida. There would not be even the
proverbial “‘ two streaks of rust and a right of way”
left of any railroad. In a hundred years all the
ties, bridges, and wood of any kind would be
crumbled into dust, and in a few centuries at most
all the metal would be rusted out and scattered
by the elements; the low cuts and embankments
would be quite obliterated by rain and wind
action. Down on the Key extension some remains
of the concrete arches might be left. and they
would probably be taken for the ruins of an old
aqueduct which had supplied water to some long
lost city. Of Miami, the ‘‘concrete city,” there
would probably remain a few fragments of walls
which hdd not yet been overthrown by time and

70 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the hurricanes. Here and there would be found
low, shapeless mounds overgrown with thick,
tropical scrub. Should this scientific explorer
proceed to excavate he might unearth a lower jaw
of a white man and the skull of a low-type negro.
He and other learned scientists would probably
write profound papers on this wonderful find,
putting the two together and wondering that a
man with a low, retreating forehead should have
such a high type of jaw. If the archzologist
should dig down and find broken glass and iron-
stone chinaware, he would conclude that the
Miamians had some knowledge of art, but should
he happen to make his excavation in the back
yard of a restaurant and unearth a quantity of
oyster and clam shells he might be convinced
that they were of a low type that subsisted on
shellfish.

One bit of evidence furnishes a clue to the
amount of time elapsed since these mound builders
vanished, and it indicates that their depart-
ure took place a long time ago. As I have al-
ready said there is little or no natural land in
the Ten Thousand Islands region that rises above
an extreme high tide. This would indicate that

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 71

no real hammock developed before the advent of
the mound builders. It is doubtful if any existed
there even while they occupied the country. The
people who lived there certainly created the shell
mounds, the only possible places on which dry-
land hammock could grow, and as they must have
lived on these mounds after they built them it is
more than likely the hammock growth only sprang
up and covered the surface after their departure.
It takes a long time for shells on the surface to
disintegrate and form a soil, on which herbaceous
vegetation can subsist. The gumbo limbo tree
was, no doubt, a precursor of the hammock, as it
will grow in very arid situations. After a little
soil was formed, seeds of the hammock trees were
borne in by the sea or brought by birds, and grew.
I counted on Chokoloskee Island over thirty
species of tropical trees and large shrubs, besides
several warm temperate forms.

After the hammocks were established three
species of arboreal snails appeared and became a
part of their fauna. One, of these is a Liguus
(ZL. fasciatus) which is represented in the Ten
Thousand Islands by two quite distinct sub-
species; there is also the ‘“‘black snail,” a variant

72 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

of Liguus crenatus and then a large Oxystyla. All
these grow only on the trees in the high hammocks
and are found living to-day on the Upper Keys,
having possibly originated on them and crossed
over to the Cape Sable region by way of the old
land bridge which I have elsewhere mentioned.
From Cape Sable they appear to have reached
the Ten Thousand Islands. I do not believe it
was possible for these hammock-living arboreal
snails to have inhabited these islands previous to
the coming of these prehistoric peoples, nor, in all
probability until after they vanished. It is quite
probable that the Upper Keys were finished into
essentially their present condition at the time of
the second Pleistocene uplift and that these tree
snails were developed, migrated to the mainland,
and from there to the archipelago at about this
time. If I am right in these surmises it seems
quite probable that these aborigines are as old
as the completed upper chain of keys and that
they passed away while the present hammock
fauna was migrating to the archipelago.

In his most readable book, Florida Trails, Win-
throp Packard states that the royal palm is not
a native of Florida, This is a mistake as it may

Native Royal Palm Growing at Rogers River, Ten Thousand Islands
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

THE TEN THOUSAND ISLANDS 73

be found growing wild in several localities in
our State. When I came to Dade County seven-
teen fine specimens grew in a swamp just north of
my home. At Paradise Key, in the lower Ever-
glades, now a State park, over 2000 specimens,
large and small, survive. It is said that a very
tall royal grew in the vicinity of Cape Sable a
useful landmark for seamen, but that it was cut
down during the Civil War. This palm exists at
several places on the south and southwest coasts
of the State and also here in the Ten Thousand
Islands southeast of Cape Romano. At the time
I first visited this hammock in 1885 there were said
to be 500 large trees and in addition there were
great numbers of smaller ones.

The coconut has been called ‘‘A marvel of
Titanic grace’ and with equal propriety the
“royal” as it is generally called here, might be
styled a marvel of Titanic majesty. It attains a
height of a hundred and twenty feet and some-
times even more, towering up, far above the
tallest forest, where it spreads to the sun its regal
crown of intensely deep green, glossy leaves. No
other tree can be so appropriately called a king
and as one gazes at it he may well appreciate

74 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Kingsley’s words: ‘‘It is a joy forever and a sight
never to be forgotten.” It is probably the most
magnificent vegetable production in the world,
and one of which all Floridians should be proud.

The Ten Thousand Islands is a region of mys-
tery and loneliness; gloomy, monotonous, weird,
and strange, yet possessing a decided fascination.
To the casual stranger each and every part of the
region looks exactly like all the rest; each islet
and water passage seems but the counterpart of
hundreds of others. Even those who long have
lived within this region and are familiar with its
tortuous channels often get lost. The chief native
topic is of parties lost and wandering hopeless
for days among its labyrinthine ways.

leurs “yy uyof “iq 4q oj04g
sou) sjoUlMIag ‘SpUv[S] puesnoyy uey ,,‘sseiddy Aummoy,, ut JOATY VaysojoyoyD jo prey

CHAPTER IV
Cape Sable

HE name Cape Sable,—cape of sand—is

a somewhat improper designation for it
includes three quite distinct capes, some
distance apart, though the whole forms

a decided projection of land into the sea. North-
west Cape is the northernmost point, then fol-
low Middle Cape and finally East Cape, the latter
the most prominent of the three; there are slight,
open bays between them. The trio may be said
to separate the Gulf of Mexico from the Strait of
Florida. It is about ten miles from Northwest
Cape to East Cape, and the latter has the distinc-
tion of being the southernmost point of the main-
land of the United States. It extends about a
half mile farther south than a slight projection
just east of it and it is nearly fifty statute miles
nearer the Equator than is the southern most tip

of Texas.
75

76 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

From Northwest Cape to East Cape there is a
continuous stretch of silicious sand which extends
back from the beach a considerable distance. It
stops abruptly at the edge of a great mangrove
swamp. Farther inland is a series of brackish
lakes and these lie more or less parallel with the
sandy shore,—one of these is White Water Lake.
Still farther inland and beyond both swamp and
lakes lie rich prairies which, for the extreme end
of Florida, are quite high.

In the lower Florida region making a landing
is often a difficult matter. In some cases, espe-
cially along the keys, the beach consists of terribly
ragged rock, often extending beyond the low tide
mark. One is liable to get aground and injure
his boat and once on the land walking is well nigh
impossible. Usually near the shore the sea is
very shallow and the bottom of soft, sticky mud.
The explorer at times cannot get within many
rods of such a beach, even with a light skiff, and
he must get overboard and wade. Too often the
shore is fringed with an almost impenetrable
barrier of mangroves which may be a quarter of a
mile wide. One must work in somehow to the
edge of these, dragging his boat and making it

ysle[Q ysesiog Aq o,oy4g
S97BIG Pau oy} Jo puvjuley! ay} Jo JUIog ApJaqINog so! oY} ‘o1qQeg edeD sea

Sab De ates

CAPE SABLE 77

fast to the arching roots, then climb like an awk-
ward monkey over and through the dreadful
tangle to dry land. If a naturalist he likely has
to carry bags for specimens, grub hoc, spade, ax,
and camera, besides various other collecting out-
fit, some in his hands and more slung about him.
The least slip means a fall into the water or
among the sharp oysters attached to the roots.
Often the growth is so dense and tall that the
harassed explorer can only see a short distance in
any direction and he can rarely find the sun owing
to the dense foliage. So it is too easy to go wrong
and even to describe a laborious circle back to the
shore. If he does reach terra firma and complete
his collections he can only guess on the way back
where his skiff may be. He will likely crawl a
long distance out to find the water,—but not the
boat. It is better to blaze the trees going in and
hope to be able to see the marks going out. At
last he too often finds the tide fallen and he must
wade again and drag the unwilling skiff,—seem-
ingly miles.

But all is different at Sable. This beach is a
paradise indeed for him who is fed up on the other
sorts. Comparatively deep water comes in right

78 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

to the shore. One may anchor a boat drawing
five feet hard upon the beach, and run his skiff
directly on the sandy shore and step off dry shod.
Dr. John K. Small, my companion on many col-
lecting trips, has suggested that this deep water
is caused by the strong currents which sweep by
this headland, and I am sure he is right. Strangely
enough there is a five-foot tide here though a
short distance to the north (on the Gulf shore) it
is hardly over a foot; it is even less in Florida Bay,
to the eastward. Everywhere along this ex-
tended, uninterrupted beach the sand is firm and
there are no mangroves. The country, for the
most part, is covered with herbaceous growth or
at most a low scrub for a considerable distance
back from the shore, and it is exceedingly rich in
interesting plants, nearly all derived from the
American tropics. One has a glorious sense of
freedom and comfort here which he experiences. in
but few localities in Lower Florida. Just to the
southeast of East Cape there is safe anchorage
against any ordinary storm.

This great sand bank is probably built over an
old mangrove swamp for such a formation lies
immediately behind and to the east of it. The

CAPE SABLE 79

giant wall of mangroves which I have elsewhere
described adjoins the northern part of Northwest
Cape and the water along the entire sandy shore
is so filled with sediment that it is unpleasant to
bathe init. This sediment, which is more or less
mixed with coarser materials, seems to be chiefly
the soil, peat, and half decayed wood from man-
grove swamps.

This beach is a noted place for sea shells.
During the time of storms when the wind blows
landward, quantities of Murex, Fulgur, the Fas-
ciolarias, handsome Olivas with their wonderfully
zigzagged and tentlike color patterns, graceful
cones, Cancellarias and Bullas among gastropods;
Venus, Cardiums, Macrocallistas with delicately
painted, polished shells, large Dosinias, as round
as dollars, beautifully tinted Tellinas, among
which the brilliant crimson T. braziliana is espe-
cially abundant; a large representation of the
Lucinide and millions of Donax or ‘‘wedge”
shells together with many other forms are strewn
upon the littoral. The beach seems to be a sort
of headquarters for the great ‘‘angel’s wings”
(Pholas costatus). This mollusk burrows to a
depth of a couple of feet in the sand or mud and,

80 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

for this reason, is rarely found alive. But here
the strong currents, no doubt, destroy the burrows
and wash out the mollusk. Its beautiful detached
valves, sometimes eight inches long, often lie on
the beach in ricks. They are thin, peculiarly cor-
rugated, and shaped somewhat like the wings of
the angels in old pictures; this and their pure
white color have suggested the name.

The Pholads, of which this species is fairly
typical, are a large and diversified family, all of
which are borers. Some of them, like the present
species, dig only in sand or mud; others excavate
their tunnels in wood or soft rock, and some bore
out their nests in hard granite. For along time
the manner of their working was a mystery and by
some it was believed that the boring was done by
the edges of the rough, corrugated shells, but it is
now known that this is not true. There is a set of
strong muscles attached to winglike processes out-
side and at the back of the shell. These muscles
can be powerfully contracted by the animal so that
the two valves or shells are drawn wide open and
their rough surfaces held very firmly against the
walls of the burrow. With the shell thus held fast
the animal turns and twists its large foot, which

CAPE SABLE 81

is covered with sharp, siliceous spicules, first one
way and then the other, and so laboriously drills
out the material in which it lives. It is here I
found a couple of specimens of the exceedingly rare
Cancellaria tenera, the shell having flat, tabulated
shoulders like a miniature stairway, but it is not
especially beautiful.

Although nearly all the vegetation and most
of the dry-land animal life of this region are
tropical, derived in all probability, as I have else-
where shown, from the Upper Keys over an old
but now destroyed landway, the marine forms, on
the contrary, are largely warm temperate or at
most subtropical. This may at first seem strange
but the explanation is simple. The tropical
marine life of the keys has been brought to them
by the Gulf Stream. But these very same keys
and the plateau on which they rest, act as a barrier
to the farther passage of this life to the Florida
west coast. The water on the west coast of
Florida is shallow for miles out from the shore and
the Gulf Stream flows far to the westward. This
wide belt of shallow sea often becomes quite cold
in winter, especially in time of severe northers,

and is therefore decidedly unfavorable for strictly
6

82 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

tropical marine life. For this reason only the
hardier West Indian species are found here.
Finally, as I shall show in another chapter, the
marine life of the Gulf of Mexico was partly
derived from the cooler part of the Atlantic, hav-
ing migrated around the southern end of the
Florida peninsula when it did not extend nearly
so far south as it does at present, probably before
the keys were formed.

I have said that this splendid beach is a paradise
for the naturalist and collector. He may wander
along it in perfect comfort, provided mosquitoes
and sand flies are not too troublesome. Some
distance back from the beach there is prairie
with scattered scrub. As soon as one reaches this
his troubles really begin. Over most of it a
variety of low thorny bushes and creepers makes
any progress most difficult, or even impossible.
One is continually forced to turn back and seek
another passage. In places the ‘‘poor man’s
plaster’ (Mentzilia floridana) completely covers
the ground and sprawls over the scrub. It has
rather attractive yellow flowers but the stems
and under sides of the lobed, deltoid leaves are
thickly covered with barbed, glandular hairs.

CAPE SABLE 83

Any animal or person coming among these plants
soon becomes covered not only with the leaves
but with their brittle stems. Sometimes the entire
plant will catch hold in the most diabolical man-
ner and break off. Other stems attach them-
seives to those which are already being borne
away by the intruder, and if one is compelled to
be among them for some time the result may
easily be imagined. In such plight one is re-
minded of that delightful rascal, ‘‘Brer Rabbit,”
who spilled ‘‘Brer Bar’s” bucket of honey over
himself and was obliged to roll among ‘‘de leafs
and trash” in vain effort to clean himself. The
stems may be pulled off but it is utterly im-
possible to scrape the leaves from one’s clothing.
They cling to the victim’s garments as dirty,
greenish patches until they finally wear off.
When well covered with the miserable things one
is certainly, as Uncle Remus remarked about
'“Brer Rabbit,” ‘De mos’ owdashus-lookin’
creetur w’at you ever sot eyes on,” and one cer-
tainly looks like ‘‘de gran’daddy er all de boog-
gers.”

For a long time I could not understand why the
leaves and stems of this plant attach themselves

84. IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

so tenaciously to any object with which they come
in contact. Some of the members of the same
family to which the Mentzilia belongs are pro-
vided with stinging hairs which serve to keep the
plants from being molested, but the hairs of this
species do not sting. They are intended merely
to catch and hold on to whatever touches them.
Fortunately a plant of this species came up in my
yard one spring and grew with great vigor during
the entire season, finally covering a space twenty
feet square, scrambling over other vegetation and
up the lattice of my piazza. In the fall it bloomed
and seeded profusely, thus giving me an excellent
opportunity to observe and study it. I thought
it possible that the branches when dropped might
throw out roots and form new plants as do those
of certain Cacti. I tore off a number and scat-
tered them in all kinds of situations, even putting
a few in my slat-covered plant house, but. all
withered and died.

The club-shaped seed vessels are covered with
barbed prickles and filled with pulp containing
a half dozen rather large, singular-looking seeds.
These are black and rough, somewhat elongated
and flattened, with two encircling ridges having

Weug “yp wyof sq 4q 0,04g
a198S odeQ ‘sued MeN S,epLIo[g jo ouQ ‘euepuepuem xeurnyy

CAPE SABLE 85

a groove between. They suggest in shape an
Indian stone ax. The berrylike fruit does not
open but remains attached to the plant long after it
is ripe; finally decaying and allowing the seeds to
fall. It is evident that the barbed hairs of the
plant have two functions; they cling to the vege-
tation over which the Mentzilia sprawls, aiding it
in climbing and holding on; when in fruit they
attach the leaves and stems so firmly to the
passer-by that much of the plant along with its
load of seed vessels is torn off and thus carried to a
distance. It is its method of dispersal. The
long period during which the ripe seed is con-
tained in the pericarp increases the chances of a
carrier. The large seeds have sufficient vitality
to sprout and grow vigorously among the dense
vegetation of the locality in which the Mentzilia
is sure to live. All in all, it is one of the most
remarkable plants of our flora.

Formerly there were extensive hammocks at
the capes, now mostly cut off and the sandy ground
has been planted to coconuts. The beautiful
silver palm (Coccothrinax jucunda) and another
(Thrinax floridana) were once abundant, though it
is probable that they no longer exist on the main-

86 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

land. Thrinax wendlandiana, another fine palm,
supposed until recently to belong only to Cuba,
grows in the cape region, along the south shore
of the State, and also on the keys. Wild cinnamon
(Canella winteriana), saffron plum (Bumelia angus-
tifolia), wild dilly (Mimusops emarginata), and a
number of other trees and plants belonging to the
keys are found here, immigrants over the old
mainland route to Metacumbe.

What remains of the cape hammock is not lofty
but it is exceedingly dense and filled as full of
thorny growth as is any other hammock in the State.
Of this thorny growth the chief plant is a sprawling
Cereus which I have abused elsewhere but it is
sufficiently villainous to call for more condem-
nation. It is Cereus pentagonus. I cannot con-
ceive how it would be possible to devise a more
devilish plant. It starts in life by growing erect,
but tiring of that it falls over and rests on other
vegetation, or perhaps slides off and fastens itself
to the ground from which it may spring up a
second time. Not infrequently it almost fills all
the vacant space in the forest, thrusting its long,
lithe stems through the thickest growth and
appearing in the most unexpected places. Its

Cereus pentagonus Filling All the Spaces in the Hammock
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

CAPE SABLE 87

stems may be three, four, or five angled (the young
ones sometimes have even more) and each angle
is lined with terrific spines an inch or more in
length. They are so sharp and strong that they
easily pierce the heaviest leather boot. The ex-
plorer may be ever so alert but he is certain to run
into it dozens of times in such a forest. He is
equally sure to carry away a fine collection of its
thorns, which have a vicious way of breaking off
in his body. As though this were not enough
there is another Cereus which is just about as
villainous (C. eriophorus). It has about ten ribs
and nearly round stems. Fortunately it has one
merit that the other does not possess and that is
it is rather scarce. In much of the cape territory
a dwarfed form of Agave (common on the keys)
covers the ground, and it frequently grows in
company with a very spiny Opuntia. A more or
less ever-present pest among thorns is our familiar
pull-and-haul-back vine. The only relief from the
grasp of its curved spines, after the preliminary
resort to profanity, is carefully to cut away the
entwining vines with an always handy and sharp
knife. During the process one must not move an
inch in any direction. Everywhere is a network

88 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

of vines—‘‘invisible wires” as Kingsley calls
them—to trip and occasionally throw one head-
long among the merciless thorns. These ‘‘wires”’
belong to a number of species of Smilax, all of
which are more or less thorny; a Mikania, related
to the sunflower family; a Philbertella or Metas-
telma, which are really milkweeds; one species of
grape and a common morning-glory (Ipomea
cathartica), which latter is always abundant in the
thickets. The Ipomza has no spines but its soft
stems hang in festoons, or lying along the ground
are drawn across the paths as taut as bowlines to
catch the unwary. It flaunts its gay blue and
purple flowers-everywhere and seems to take a
fiendish delight in tripping and throwing all who
defy it by venturing into the scrub.

Formerly the hammocks at the capes were
full of beautiful tree snails,—the large Oxystyla
and two species of Liguus, but to-day very few are
left. Among this remnant, however, there are
some anomalies of distribution difficult to under-
stand. Liguus fasciatus, represented by several:
varieties, is found at Middle and East capes but
not at Northwest Cape, but five miles distant.
At the latter locality it is replaced by Liguus

Cereus eriophorus, a Villainous Cactus of Lower Florida
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

CAPE SABLE 89

crenatus, so nearly like the Cuban form of the
species that an expert could not separate them.
The latter species is also found at Flamingo and
again near Coot Bay and its adjacent hammocks,
but from some of these the shells have a different
marking. The peculiar ‘‘black snail’? occurs on
Key Vaca, at Middle Cape and Chokoloskee but
has not, so far as I know, been obtained in any
other localities. Usually only a single species or
subspecies of Liguus is found in any of these
hammocks, but why all other forms but one are
excluded we do not know.

I had been warned repeatedly that anyone who
explored the Cape Sable or south shore regions
hazarded his life by reason of many rattlesnakes.
My warning included many of the keys which were
supposedly infested with them. In many years
of cruising and tramping over the lower part of
the State I had never met a living rattler or even a
water moccasin, and I had concluded that the
snake stories were largely myths. In the late
autumn of 1916, in company with Dr. Small and
my neighbors Victor Soar and Paul Matthaus, I
visited the Cape Sable region, tramping from
Flamingo to the cape across the interior prairie.

90 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

We had turned from the trail to enter a little
hammock in our search for plants and snails. I
was leading with Soar following when I heard a
slight disturbance behind; turning around I saw
him in the act of cutting off the head of a good
sized diamond rattlesnake with his machete. He
said I had stepped with my left foot close to its
head and neck, then directly over its body, first
with the right and then with the left foot. He had
had the rare presence of mind not to cry out, for
had he done so it is probable that I would have
confusedly stopped and been bitten. Within ten
feet he encountered another rattlesnake which was
much larger, and killed it.
Returning from the cape soon after, we visited
a small hammock near the scene of our morning’s
adventure. Our dog began barking furiously near
by and then a snake rattled clear and strong. I
called the two other men and began a search, for
the reptile, but the dog, on which we relied for
help, became frightened and departed yelping.
The hammock just there had lately been burned
off and had grown up very thickly with rank
weeds. After beating about for awhile without
success we concluded further search in a dense

ews “yy uyof ‘iq Aq ojoudg
a1qes edeg Jo yoVg Yoowuvy, Ul pally seyeusal}ey puowvqg omy

CAPE SABLE gI

thicket too risky and reluctantly gave it up.
The next day the Doctor found a very large,
freshly-shed rattler skin at the cape. Some
people we met there told us never had rattlers
been so abundant; they were killing them every
day.

In his delightful book, The Naturalist in La
Plata, Hudson tells of a ‘‘wave of life’ and
says: ‘“Turning back to 1872-3, I find in my
note book for that season a history of one of those
waves of life—for I can think of no better name
for the phenomenon in question—that are of such
frequent occurrence in thinly settled regions. . . .
An exceptionally bounteous season, the accidental
mitigation of a check, or other favorable circum-
stance, often causes an increase so sudden and
inordinate of small, prolific species, that when we
actually witness it we are no longer surprised at
the notion prevalent amongst the common people,
that mice, frogs, crickets, etc., are occasionally
rained down from the clouds.” He proceeds to
tell how, that same year, owing to favorable con-
ditions, the country was overrun with a variety
of the smaller wild animals, bumblebees, mice,
storks, owls, and other things; that later when the

92 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

environment became unfavorable this super-
abundance of life melted away and the old order
was restored. I believe that a wave of rattle-
snake life must have occurred in the vicinity of
Cape Sable.

It seems a strange thing that so few are bitten
by rattlesnakes and I can only conclude that they
rarely if ever strike unless actually provoked. I
have known of a number of cases of snakes almost
stepped on that refrained from attacking. Noth-
ing in nature can be more hideous and terrifying
in appearance than a large diamond rattlesnake,
or more perfectly fitted to demoralize a courageous
foe.

We had planned to visit several places after
leaving Sable, but at the next stop with the
anchor over no one seemed to manifest any dis-
position to go ashore. It was agreed that the
tide was too low to land, so we up anchor and pro-
ceeded on to Jo Kemp’s Key. We did land there
and talked with some fishermen, who confirmed
the snake stories we had recently heard. They
admitted they hardly dared step outside the paths.
The Doctor, who wore heavy, high leggins, took a
brief turn along the edge of the hammock but

CAPE SABLE 93

didn’t venture into it. He soon came back to
the boat and remarked that there wasn’t any-
thing of interest on the island anyhow. Then
we went to a point on the mainland northeast of
Jo Kemp’s Key and pottered about the open
ground near shore, but all seemed nervous and
nobody ventured into the scrub. After a brief
consultation we decided to start for home. Small
claimed he had gotten about all the plants he had
expected to find. Of Course it was ridiculous to
suppose that any of us were afraid of snakes or
that there were not the most urgent of reasons for
going home. The urgency of the reasons is well
expressed in a popular song of a few years ago
entitled: ‘‘’Tain’t no disgrace to run when yo’ are
skeered.”

At the time of my last visit to the capes we saws
upon nearing the shore, a solitary man sitting on a
log. I talked with him while the rest of our party
were busy botanizing. He was powerfully built,
of middle age, and decidedly intelligent. He
informed me he was the keeper of the big coconut
plantation along the shore. I was curious to
know why he had chosen to live in this lonely place
and questioned him accordingly. He said his

94 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

home was in Ohio and that for many years he had
suffered greatly from rheumatism, becoming finally,
so disabled that he could scarcely get about.
Then he determined to come to Florida and seek
relief in a gentler climate. He had to be carried
aboard the train and to rely upon the kindness of
chance acquaintances to help him on and off when
he had to change cars. He stopped for awhile at
St. Petersburg and, feeling better, accepted a posi-
tion as keeper of this coconut grove. Asked if he
didn’t find it very lonely,—for his nearest neigh-
bors at Flamingo were fully ten miles away,—
he said, ‘‘ Yes, it is lonesome, and I have a hard
time getting along without anything to read, but
I had rather be in this wilderness alone and well
than at home with all my friends and sick.” And
he stood erect and walked about very firmly and
proudly to show how completely he was cured.
Verily there is no richer possession than health!
Cape Sable is indeed a wild, lonely place. From
north around by west to the south is the unin-
terrupted ocean horizon; to the southeast a few
little islets break the monotony of an open sea,
mere dots that they are in a wide expanse of water.
Back of the gleaming beach is a somber forest and

CAPE SABLE 95

a dreary swamp. Formerly there were two or
three houses on the cape but the last hurricane
destroyed them. During such storms when the
wind is westerly the beach is fully exposed and the
sea with a thousand miles’ sweep sometimes rolls
clear over the capes and inundates the entire area.

CHAPTER V

The South Shore of the Mainland

CONSIDERABLE part of the main-

land south shore of Florida and of the

region for some distance back from it

into the interior is almost a terra incog-
nita. There are a few houses at the little settle-
ment of Flamingo on the shore seven or eight
miles from East Cape Sable; the balance of the
area is an uninhabited wilderness. Along most
of the shore line there is a fringe of tall mangroves,
and in the vicinity of Cuthbert Lake this growth
extends for several miles inland. A series of
rather low hammocks borders the sea for some
distance and back of these are buttonwood
swamps. There are two or three abandoned
shacks on this hammock land and occasionally one
sees a schooner loading buttonwood for fuel for
the Key West market,—these being the only signs
of human life one ever meets in this lonely region.

One of Florida’s New Palms, Acoelorraphe wrightii, Hammock at Cuth-
bert Lake, Dade Co., Florida. Stems over Thirty Feet High
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 97

At the time of this writing one could cross the
State from Northwest Cape Sable to Chis Cut on
lower Biscayne Bay, a distance of fifty-five miles,
without seeing a house.

The entire territory is very flat and probably no
part of it rises more than four feet above high tide.
From Cape Sable to Card Sound the whole region
is overflowed during hurricanes from the west or
southwest, and driftwood is then washed up among
the trees to a height of four or five feet above
ground.

The shore line is exceedingly irregular, although
not so hopelessly complicated as in the White-
water Bay region. A number of rather large bays
enter from the south, some with narrow necks,
while long, bootlike projections of land reach far
otit into the sea.

The vegetation of the hammocks is almost
entirely tropical, being nearly identical with that
of the Cape Sable country. Mahogany, Joe-
wood, wild dilly, mastic, and wild cinnamon are
characteristic, the latter being a beautiful tree
with rich, dark green, shining leaves which have
a decidedly peppery taste. One is constantly

being led into chewing them for their flavor of
7

98 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

cinnamon and getting his mouth well burnt.
In a few places the stately royal palm is found
growing luxuriantly, and in some of the more
inaccessible swamps there are quantities of .a
Cuban palm, Ace@lorraphe wrightti, confined in the
United States to this restricted south shore region.
It has fan-shaped leaves and slender stems which
reach a height of thirty feet, the whole growing in
dense masses possibly fifty feet across. It is as
light and graceful as a bamboo and is one of the
finest ornamentals of Florida. The common
cabbage palmetto (Sabal palmetio) is abundant,
probably the only tree in the region that is not
tropical. The sheathing bases of its leaves en-
close the young growing trunk, and when the
latter attains full size the sheathings are split open.
The blades of the old leaves fall, leaving the re-
mainder attached to the tree, sometimes twenty
feet high. These old leaf bases are commonly
called ‘‘boots,” and while they remain they add
greatly to the picturesqueness of the tree. One is
sure to find a small botanical garden among these
boots, for they provide shelter and an ideal place
for the attachment of epiphytes. Around the
leaf bases is a thick and strong network of fiber

Cabbage Palmettos near Punta Gorda, Florida

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 99

which binds and supports the young leaves, and
when this begins to decay it makes an admirable
bed for the roots of many plants and also a very
comfortable home for many kinds of insects. A
dozen species of ferns and an equal number of air
pines may take lodgment on these young palmettos.
The serpent fern (Phlebodium) and two species of
sword fern (Nephrolepis) commonly attach them-
selves among the dead bases of the palm leaves—
just under the crown of living ones, and the fronds
of one of them often hang down a couple of yards.
The seeds of the strangling fig often lodge and grow
among the boots, eventually destroying their
kindly host. Several orchids also flourish in this
little air garden, especially the pretty Epidendrum
tampense.

If the young palmetto is a botanical garden it
may with equal propriety be called a zodlogical
park. The shelter afforded, the decaying vegeta-
tion, and the wealth of plant life about the boots
combine to make the tree an ideal spot for a
menagerie of small life. Tear off a boot and a
swarm of great brown ants is sure to rush out and
attack the despoiler, biting severely; they may be
accompanied by a minute black species whose bite

100 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

is even more painful. In such station one will
find many beetles and an occasional myriopod.
If not watchful one is likely to be stung by a
scorpion. There is almost certain to be a speci-
men or two of the hideous vinagerone or whip
scorpion (Thelyphonus giganteus);—‘‘scruncher”
as it is called by the natives. It is two and a half
inches long, of a lurid, dark brown color, with two
immense palpi or nippers, a long rounded abdomen,
ending in an extended lashlike telson. No regular
scorpion presents so dreadful an appearance and it
is little wonder it is so feared. Many insist that
its sting is fatal. An old darkey of the Uncle
Remus type whom I knew lived in constant ter-
ror of them. ‘‘Man, suh,’’ he once said, ‘‘dat’s
de mos’ owdashus beas’ in de whole worl’, an’ ef
ever he hit yo a lick wid dat tail o’ his’n yo shuah
‘nuff a goner.’”’ Notwithstanding the fact that
Blatchley and other naturalists declare that this
Arachnid is absolutely harmless I prefer to let
someone else examine it. A great wingless cock-
roach with a very strong odor (Eurycotes ingens?)
is generally abundant, and a curious Arachnid ofa
dark brown color, resembling a small crab, is
occasionally seen. The red-headed lizard (Eu-

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 101

meces fasciatus) darts rapidly about in search of
insects. When young his tail is blue; when old
this color fades and his head becomes red. Another
reptilian member of this miniature zoo is a hand-
some green ‘‘chameleon” (Anolis carolinensts)
which leaps and scurries about among the boots.
Several spiders spin their webs in the palmetto,
attracted by the harvest of insects. One of the
wood rats, probably Rattus alexandrinus (an
importation from North Africa), sometimes makes
its nest in the great leafy crown or among the asso-
ciated vines and rubbish. A very slender and
beautiful green snake (Leptophys?) glides swiftly
and securely among the tangled mass of greenery
and a much larger brownish one sometimes stares
at one from his home in the tree top.

When the palmetto blooms there assembles
about it a convention of flying, honey-loving
insects, butterflies, moths, wasps, hornets, and
bees, all eager to share in the crop of luscious
honey or in some cases to prey upon each other.
This insect gathering brings many birds to feed
upon them. Among the honey seekers there may
be one or two species of a slender-winged insect
of a deep, steely blue with white spots and with a

102 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

rather swollen abdomen. I long took them for
wasps and no doubt the birds are so deceived.
On closer examination they prove to be diurnal
moths, belonging, perhaps, to the family A¢ger-
ide. They are among the most attractive insects
of Lower Florida. We certainly have no other
tree that is the home and resort of such a wealth
of life as is the cabbage palmetto.

At some distance south of the mainland is the
chain of Florida keys which gradually approaches
as it bends to the northward and between the two
lies the Bay of Florida. The bay is studded with
low, mangrove-covered islets, and over many
square miles the tide scarcely ebbs and flows.
When an easterly wind blows strongly much of
the bottom may be uncovered even for days at a
time. Everywhere along the mainland shore and
for some distance out the bottom is of an impal-
pable white marl resting on a foundation of lime-
stone a few feet below. It is certainly the softest
and stickiest stuff in the whole world. It varies
in its consistency from milk to a thick paste.

In times of storm this white mud is stirred up
from the bottom and mixes with the water until
the whole is a sort of dirty greenish white, often

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 103

retaining this color for days. Drew has found in
tropical waters denitrifying bacteria that in their
life economy transform certain soluble calcium
salts to the insoluble calcium carbonates, precipi-
tating the latter in the form of minute granules.
These bacteria are especially abundant in the
Bahaman and South Floridian waters. This is
partially the cause of much of the milkiness of the
water of this region and accounts for the origin of
the soft oolitic mud found throughout Hawk Chan-
nel and all our shallow bays. Year in and year out
these bacteria are changing a part of the liquid sea
water into a solid which is being added to the land:
All the hammocks along the south shore have this
marl for a foundation; their upper soil being only a
thin layer of mold. It is refreshing to find a new
bacteria that does good instead of evil.

Several years ago I visited Flamingo in No-
vember for the purpose of making natural history
collections. The edge of a hurricane had passed
over the region shortly before and, with the excep-
tion of the higher hammocks, the country was
covered with water,—in places to the depth of
two feet. We had several partly cloudy, showery
days and the mosquitoes swarmed everywhere to

104 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

an extent that I have never seen before or since.
In company with a Mr. Roberts, long a resident
of the south shore, and two other men staying at
Flamingo, our party started afoot for Coot Bay,
an arm of White Water Bay, about six miles in-
land. We passed through low inundated prairies
and hammocks with here and there a higher spot
cleared and planted in sugar cane. The soil is
wonderfully rich and where the cane had not
been killed by the overflow it was rank and fine.
In one of the hammocks we found the papaw
(Carica papaya) growing abundantly as an under-
growth in the tall forest. I have never seen it so
fine and vigorous, even in the tropics. The plants
have perfectly straight trunks, smooth in the lower
part, often as large as a man’s body and fully
twenty feet high. For a space of several feet the
upper part of the stem is clothed with leaves,
these having straight petioles three or four feet
long which, after shedding, leave peculiar orna-
mental scars on the trunk. The great palmate
blades are more than three feet across, forming a
beautiful crown extending well down the tree. At
the bases of the petioles were the yellow flowers
The tree is dicecious in most cases and the male

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 105

blossoms are borne on slender, branching stems
while the larger female flowers are nearly sessile.
The latter develop into roundish fruits a couple
of inches in diameter which are crowded on the
stem for several feet. The outer part of the trunk
has considerable fiber but within this is merely
hardened pulp. The stem is ordinarily un-
branched, but if the growing bud is injured it
sothnetimes divides into two or more limbs. Ina
wild state the fruit is small and insipid but when
cultivated and carefully selected it becomes at
times as large as a muskmelon and of delicious
flavor. Sometimes male trees produce peculiar,
slender fruits the seeds of which are fertile. Wild
or cultivated the tree is one of the most beautiful
and striking objects of the tropics. It grows in
Florida from the Indian River on the east and
Tampa Bay on the west to the extreme lower part
of the State. Bartram tells of his joy and aston-
ishment at seeing this tree growing wild on the
banks of the St. John’s River just south of Lake
George, but it probably does not now grow so
far north. In this connection Sir Charles Lyell
gives an account of immense orange trees ninety
years old on the lower Altamaha River and others

106 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

one hundred and fifty years old at St. Augustine!
These ancient trees were killed in 1835 by perhaps
the severest cold ever recorded in Florida. Since
then there have been such repeated cold spells
and at such short intervals that many of the more
tender plants have never recovered.

At the point where we visited Coot Bay the
shore was covered with a dense growth of button-
wood. In this low, swampy thicket Mr. Roberts
showed me the ruins of a shack built and occupied
by the late J. E. Layne, a young man of much
ability, who devoted his life to collecting the plants
of the southwestern part of the State. The
wretched little hovel could not have been more
than ten feet square; it was made of poles and only
a couple of feet above the mud and water. Here,
alone, in this desolate place, tormented with in-
sects, he did excellent work as a collector and
botanist. Why did he abandon: civilization and
become a hermit; was it trouble or desire for dis-
covery? He died from exposure and the want of
proper care,—a martyr to the cause of science.

In a low hammock we found an abundance of
the superb epiphytal orchid Oncidium luridum,
with heavy, broad, folded leaves, often three feet

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 107

long. Its branching flower spikes occasionally
reach a length of ten feet. The hundreds of
rather large flowers in the clusters are greenish
yellow barred with brown-red. With it grew
another interesting orchid, Epidendrum anceps,
which we had never found elsewhere.

My face was badly swollen from too many
mosquito bites. The insects covered the exposed
parts of my body until the skin could not be seen,
and when I wiped them off the blood dripped on
the ground. With puffed cheeks and eyelids I
could scarcely see and, thoroughly poisoned, I felt
stupid with desire to lie down anywhere and
sleep. One of my companions, Mr. John Soar,
began to be ill from the same cause though his face
did not swell. His exposed skin turned fiery red
and he seemed to be in a serious condition. About
that time Mr. Roberts found some wild limes, the
juice of which he applied to the afflicted parts,
relieving them almost instantly. There are well-
authenticated instances in Florida and elsewhere
of death occurring from the attacks of mosquitoes.
The victim becomes semi-torpid from the poison
and lies down to sleep—his last sleep.

On another occasion in company with Mr. Soar

108 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

I visited Madeira Bay, one of the small gulfs on
the south coast about twenty miles east of Fla-
mingo. On account of shallow water we anchored
our launch outside the narrow neck and attempted
an entrance with a skiff, but we were soon aground
and had to get overboard and push,—as usual.
At every step we sank deep in the soft mud but
after about a mile of it we found deeper water and
pulled to the opposite shore, where we found the
‘Cuban palm (Acelorraphe wrightit) in considerable
numbers. We then poled up a creek near the
east end of the gulf and entered a large lagoon,
and beyond that a second smaller one. Turning
back towards evening we started for the launch.
Soar thought that by hugging the shore we would
find deeper water, but soon it shoaled to an inch.
We had been all day without food or water and
were so thoroughly exhausted that after pushing
the boat but two or three rads we had to rest on
the gunwale,—‘‘all in.”” Finally in the night we
reached the launch, threw ourselves upon the
bottom, and supperless slept until the sun was
well up in the sky.

On still another occasion I went with a party
to obtain specimens of the Cuban palm for plant-

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 109

ing. At Flamingo we hired one John Douthett
to act as guide and to furnish a shallow draft
gasolene launch. On account of shoal water we
anchored near Jo Kemp’s Key, making the bal-
ance of the trip in our skiffs. From the key we
had a nine mile run in water nowhere more than
two feet deep and most of the way we dragged the
bottom. Here we saw no end of birds, particularly
white and brown pelicans and Florida cormorants.
The first of these swim along and scoop up fish
while the second fly in circles and swoop down on
their prey.

In about two hours we entered the mouth of a
creek near the head of an unnamed bay. A half
mile up the stream we entered a considerable la-
goon which we passed through and then passed
into the same or another channel, for in this region
there is an interminable maze of brackish lakes
and passages. The latter are crooked and difficult
to navigate but we pushed on first northeast, then
north, northwest, southwest, then abruptly to the
northward to Cuthbert Lake, some nine miles
from where we first entered the creek.

The whole trip was novel and exciting. No less
than six lakes, each concealed from the rest by

110 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

dense growth of littoral forest, were crossed before
we reached our destination, and several times
Douthett got into the wrong channel. I cannot
understand how anyone first could have found his
way through this labyrinth or, once accomplished,
ever follow it again.

Over the channels great mangroves arch, dim-
ming the sun’s glare to soft twilight beneath.
Air roots everywhere descend into the channels
so completely obstructing the passage that we
had frequently to chop our way through. Im-
mense orchids (Cyrtopodium punctatum) were in
bloom among the trees, and a world of air pines
and Catopsis cling to the branches. On the
ground are gigantic ferns (Acrostichum), forming
the densest thickets, and a monster vine (Ecasto-
phyllum) sprawls over everything. Here and
there a great courida (Avicennia) towers above
the mangroves; the ground beneath being thickly
covered with erect quills or. pneumatophores, the
curious growth from the roots of this tree.

One of the anomalies of this general region is
the cacti. We usually associate such plants with
desert or semi-arid places but along this southern
shore one or more Opuntias and two species of

ty-one Flower Stems over Four

Cyrtopodium punctatum in bloom at Snake Hammock near

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SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 11

Cereus grow profusely in damp or even muddy
situations where an unusually high tide may cover
their roots. In fact it seems that these desert-
loving plants are attempting to become aquatics.
Along our strange course where the ground be-
comes too swampy they grow as epiphytes, attach-
ing their roots well up on the trunks of living or
dead trees.

Douthett’s propeller had only one blade and it
revolved at a terrific rate. How it survived the
trip we could not understand, for it struck the
rocky bottom every revolution for long distances,
and we navigated through a tangle of sunken logs,
branches, and chopped-off mangrove roots. As
we proceeded the channel became narrower and
more clogged and often we were obliged to get out
and lift the boats over sunken timber, or depress
the bows to get them under a log, then all get in the
stern and shove. For considerable distances we
were compelled to lie in the bottom of the boats to
avoid the low branches and air roots which hung
about everywhere. At one in the afternoon we
entered: Cuthbert Lake, a nearly circular body of
brackish water a mile across. We found patches
of the palm we sought and at once set to work

112 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

grubbing up and loading them on the boats. Im-
mense numbers of a large white bird in the lake
continually uttered a harsh croaking call,—prob-
ably the white ibis (Gaura alba).

This locality is one of the last resorts of some of
our most beautiful and interesting wading birds.
Here in days gone by resorted vast numbers of
gorgeous flamingos, scarlet ibises, roseate spoon-
bills, and roseate terns. This was one of the chief
breeding places of the ethereally beautiful egret
(Herodias egretta) and the even more perfect
snowy heron (£gretta candidissima). Owing to
woman's vanity and man’s greed they are now
well-nigh exterminated. ‘The men who raid these
heronries are toughs and outlaws, and there is not
one of them to-day who does not gloat with sat-
isfaction over the foul murder of the faithful
game warden, Warren Bradley, who was shot
down by their gang while trying to preserve these
birds.

This entire region (which is of little value for
anything else) should be set apart by the federal
government as a great bird reservation, but even
then it would be difficult enough to protect the
birds within it, for the same men who killed

Newg y uyof iq Aq 004d
Bpliojg ‘Avg vIIepey ye MYysuMm aydersojzooy ‘Wied MON INO Buje

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 113

Bradley would not hesitate to do the same by any
other warden.

Towards evening we finished with our palms and
started on our homeward trip, which, by reason
of the load, was more difficult than the up journey.
It was after sundown when we reached the bay
and then engine trouble beset us. We cranked
and talked to it in vain and at last giving up we
settled down to spend a miserable night in the
crowded little launch and its tow. A cold wind
arose from the northwest and the sky was overcast
with ominous clouds. We were exhausted, wet,
and hungry, as we had had no food since morning.
No doubt by reason of the fact that I was much
the oldest of the party I suffered greatly with the
cold. Iasked Douthett how far he thought it was
to our larger launch and he said it was probably a
couple of miles. Then I asked if he had any idea
which way it was and after standing up and look-
ing around for some time he pointed and said: “‘I
think it is off there.”

I tried to get the men to pole but they doubted
if we could find our boat and were disinclined to
make the effort. At last to warm my chilled
body I commenced poling. Later Douthett joined

114 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

me and in an hour we distinguished a blur on the
water ahead which proved to be a launch and the
boys set up a cheer. When we came to it we
found to our disgust it wasn’t ours. We aroused
the inmates, who were naturally a little peevish
at being disturbed in their sleep by so unpre-
possessing an outfit. So we began the search all
over ‘again and at last—joyful sight!—our own
boat. Never before was sleep so sweet or better
earned.

Why should an old man, past the age when
most persons seek adventure, leave a comfortable
home and plunge into the wilderness to endure
such hardships? What rewards can he receive
for it? I never return utterly worn out from such
a trip but that I vow it is the last. But in time
the hardships are forgotten and recollections of
the pleasant features only remain and I am ready
to start again. There is in all this a sort of fas-
cination not easy to explain—the relief that comes
from being away from all the restraints and arti-
ficialities of communal life—and then, the “‘ call of
the wild.’”” There is a wonderful inspiration in the
great out of doors. Everyone feels it,—some more,
some less. Personally I cannot resist the call and

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 115

must respond when I hear it and understand its
meaning.

There is upon these outings the cherished
comradeship of one’s fellow-naturalists. One
never really knows a man until he has gone out
with him on a cruise or a long tramp. If there is
any little meanness or petty selfishness in his
make-up it will then crop out. If he is a clean
man the fact will be proven by hardships of the
road. I have been especially fortunate in my
companions on many such rough trips and how
often have I been surprised by their kindness and
self-denial. My memories of these trips, of the
dear companionship, of stories told around camp
fires and on deck are easily my most cherished
possession.

It was in the wilds that Humboldt, Darwin,
Wallace, Bates, Spruce, and the splendid company
of the earlier and greater naturalists studied and
worshiped Nature. They wereinterested in every
phase and detail of it; their contact with it made
them broad and big and able to see the great truths.
There are many specialists who study intensively
some small group of animals or plants until they
know more about it than anyone else, but they

116 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

have too little general scientific knowledge, and
they care too little for the great scheme of nature.
In fact they are too little. They may slave on
the anatomy or heredity of a few things but they
neglect the larger questions of environment and
distribution. They are closet students,—scien-
tists, not naturalists; their whole occupation is
business, they find neither beauty nor charm in it.
They dig in a tunnel and see nature through a
pinhole.

One of these scientists, a man well known as a
distinguished expert in his specialty, once aston-
ished me by saying: ‘‘All this talk about the beauty
and harmony of nature is nothing but pure bosh!
I do my work and make investigations as a lawyer
would on a case; it is simply business. I do it to
win my suit, to succeed, to make a reputation.”

I do not want to investigate nature as though I
were solving a problem in mathematics. I want
none of the element of business to enter into any of
my relations with it. I am not and cannot be a
scientific attorney. In my attempts to unravel its
mysteries I have a sense of reverence and devotion,
I feel as if I were on enchanted ground. And
whenever any of its mysteries are revealed to me

SOUTH SHORE OF THE MAINLAND 117

I have a feeling of elation—I was about to say
exaltation, just as though the birds or the trees
had told me their secrets and I had understood
their language—and Nature herself had made me
a confidant.

CHAPTER VI
The Everglades

T is quite probable that the creation of the
Everglades was one of the last acts in the
completion of the land now forming the State
of Florida; in fact the process of construction

appears still to be actively going on. It is esti-
mated that the region contains about 5000 square
miles, but the latest investigations slightly reduce
this figure. It about equals the area of Connec-
ticut though its borders are so vague and uncertain
that no survey could precisely determine its limits.
Samuel Sanford, who has carefully studied the
geology of South Florida, says: ‘‘A difference of
two feet in water level means the difference be-
tween shallow lake and dry land for hundreds of
square miles.”

The popular idea of the ‘‘The Glades”’ (so the
Floridians generally call them) as a great basin is

erroneous. At the south shore of Lake Okeecho-
118

THE EVERGLADES 119

bee, which for a distance is the northern limit of
the Everglades, the land is elevated twenty feet
above sea level. From the lake it gradually
slopes southwesterly to the Gulf of Mexico, also
southerly to the Bay of Florida, and finally south-
easterly to the FloridasStrait. Muck, peat, and sand
form most of the normal surface of the great swamp
and these rest on a foundation of soft limestone.
For ages the rains have been dissolving this rock,
forming pools which afterwards became ponds
and lakes. A rank growth of herbaceous vegeta-
tion has occupied these basins and in decaying
has slowly filled them with muck and peat. The
region about Okeechobee was elevated long before
that farther south, hence the lake or pond basins
of that area with a longer time for the process were
dissolved out to greater depths, and became more
or less filled with vegetable deposits. Lakes Flirt
and Hicpochee are nearly silted to the water level
and were once, most likely, a part of the great lake.

The southern part of the Glades was recently
elevated and there has not been sufficient time as
yet to dissolve out any considerable basins, or to
form any great depth of vegetable deposits. In
fact the rock appears on the surface over extensive

120 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

areas in the newer part of the great swamp. In
this connection the settlers make a distinction
founded on the depth of muck, and speak of the
‘‘Upper Glades’? and ‘‘Lower Glades.” In the
upper (northern) part of the swamp the saw grass
is much more dense than elsewhere and it is said
that the Seminoles never attempt to cross that
section.

Whenever Okeechobee becomes filled to over-
flowing the surplus water pours out and over the
Glades. The dense growth of saw grass and other
herbaceous vegetation prevents it from running
rapidly to the sea although there is a gradual fall
all the way. For this reason most of the region
becomes covered with water which moves slowly
seaward. When the water of Okeechobee is con-
fined within the lake the water slowly drains off
and the glades may become dry. The decaying
vegetation around the border of the lakes has
slowly built up the land. The outflowing water
has deposited a considerable amount of silt at the
rim, still further assisting in the land building. It
‘may seem strange that two such causes should
actually raise the level of these large bodies of
water, but before drainage operations were begun,

Upper View. Edge of Everglades along Tamiami Trail

Lower View. Everglades near Paradise Key
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE EVERGLADES 121

their surfaces were several feet higher than when
first formed.

It has been asserted that the large lake and the
Everglades are partly supplied with water by sub-
terranean streams coming from the Appalachian
region. The fact that powerful springs often
gush forth from ditches in the Glades lends color
to the assertion, but I do not believe it true.
During 1915 and 1916 there was a considerable
shortage of rainfall in the Everglade region and
this loss, further increased by water taken from
the lake by three canals, so lowered the level that
perhaps a hundred square miles of its western and
southern part were laid bare and no water at all
could be found over the general surface of the
great swamp. Had there been a subterranean
flow the results of a local drought would have been
less pronounced.

The flora of the Everglades includes a number of
gigantic herbaceous plants, and of first importance
among these is the ‘‘saw grass” (Cladium effusum),
which is perhaps the most characteristic growth of
the region. It is not really a grass at all but a
member of the sedge or bullrush family and only
distantly related to the true grasses. It has long,

122 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

grasslike, folded leaves which spring in a great
tuft from the root and the slender leaves are armed
on their edges with sharp teeth like those of a rip
saw. Anda veritable rip saw it is, as anyone who
once comes in contact with it will agree. These
leaves attain a length of seven feet, and in late
spring or early summer the plant sends up a nearly
round flower stem to a height of ten feet or more.
This stem is protected with a bodyguard of these
savage leaves gathered about it. It has many
panicles of brownish flowers and when viewed
from a distance a stretch of it is an attractive
sight, but it is just as well to see it only from a
distance. Willoughby and others who have
crossed the Glades give graphic pictures of their
bloody battles with this merciless sedge.

One of the most striking and interesting of
these large plants is the ‘‘gama grass” (Tripsacum
dactyloides) which is sometimes cultivated for
ornament. It has broad, fine leaves and reaches
a height of twelve feet or more—the long flower-
ing stems have the seeds hidden in excavations
along their sides. There is a giant foxtail (Setaria
magna), a brother of the cultivated millet, which
seems to be rapidly spreading through the drier

THE EVERGLADES 123

parts of the Everglades. The common name of
this plant is from the striking resemblance of its
long, hairy flower heads to the tail of a fox. This
species attains a height of quite fifteen feet and
its immense heads are often two inches in diame-
ter and as many feet long. I have elsewhere
mentioned the Phragmites or common reed, hol-
low stems of which are used for plant stakes and
a variety of other purposes. It is abundant in
places. Often associated with it is a boneset
which grows ten feet high and also the elegant
Thalia with its attractive purple flowers held
aloft. In suitable stations there is an exaggerated
bullrush (Scirpus validus) fully fifteen feet high,
with stems a generous inch in diameter.

An immense weed belonging to the Amaranth
family seems to be spreading over the recently
drained parts of the swamp. It is the water hemp
(Acnida australis) and it frequently attains a stem
diameter of more than a foot and a height of
twenty feet; yet this gigantic plant is an annual
and makes its astonishing growth in a single
summer. In places it densely covers large tracts,
and at a little distance may easily be mistaken
for real forest. Its great trunk, however, is little

124 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

more than water andsome fiber. At Okeechobee I
saw a man throw a sharpened lath at the stem of
one of the largest of these plants and drive it clear
through so that the point projected on the other
side. One can hardly understand why so flimsy a
stem is not broken and overthrown by the wind,
especially since it chooses the most exposed station.

Wonderful as is the growth of the water hemp it
is completely outdone by that of another native
plant, Agave neglecta, which lives in the pinelands
along the border of the Everglades. It requires
five or six years for this agave to complete its huge
rosette of basal leaves,—the whole often being
over fourteen feet across. Then up shoots a
pole or flowering stem which, just after the start,
grows at the rate of two feet a day. I measured
one of these stems,—thirteen inches in diameter
at the base and forty-two feet eight inches high!
This astounding stem was produced in about a
month!

Generally there are few attractive plants in
swamps, but in the Glades there are many. Canna
flaccida (a cousin of the cultivated species) has
exceedingly pretty yellow blossoms. The pick-
erel weed (Pontederia) with heads of blue flowers

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THE EVERGLADES 125

is everywhere abundant and the handsome water
hyacinth, such a nuisance in the fresh waters
farther north, is gaining entrance by the canals.
Crinum americanum, a bulbous plant, has lovely,
pure white, fragrant blooms and two species of
Hymenocallis or spider lilies display their offerings
in large blossoms, the long white segments of which
suggest the ribs of an umbrella,—the whole being
surmounted by a lovely crown. ‘There is a hand-
some blue Nama and two charming pond lilies,
one a Nymphza with yellow and the other a
Castalia with white flowers. The latter is one of
the common pond lilies of the north. The leaves
of the yellow lily are strong and erect and the plant
usually bears the name of ‘‘bonnets.”

‘Great masses of a cattail (Typha angustifolia)
are often met and occasionally the arrowheads
(Sagittaria), with lance-shaped leaves. In the
canals the curious water lettuce (Pistia stratioides)
floats down from the lakes, where there is a great
variety of interesting aquatic vegetation. The
boneset, Thalia, Nama, maiden cane, and some
others are from the north while the saw grass,
Crinum, gama grass, spider lilies, the foxtail,
water hemp, giant bullrush and water lettuce are

126 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

purely tropical and are derived from Middle
America. The pickerel weed and common reed
are widely distributed. The cattail extends north
to Canada and south throughout the West
Indies; it also lives in both Europe and Asia
and now in New Zealand. It is probable that a
majority of the plants of the Upper Glades are of
northern derivation and that the greater part of
the flora of the southern end is Antillean.

Although only the preliminary work of drainage
has been done yet it has had a marked effect on
the vegetation. Along the banks of the canals
and on all slightly elevated spots a variety of
trees and shrubs are springing up, so that where
formerly the eye swept over a monotonous even
expanse of saw grass, the view now presents
patches of incipient forests. This new element
in the flora is especially noticeable around the
eastern border which is somewhat drier than the
main body of the swamp. Here groves of young
timber are claiming titles on every hand.

One of the results of partial drainage is that
along this same east border numerous low, tim-
bered ‘‘islands,’’ which were formerly quite wet,
have now been changed to dry land. A con-

THE EVERGLADES 127

siderable part of the foundation of these groves is
peat and in dry times it is very liable to fire, and
once begun it is well-nigh impossible to extinguish
it. These groves, despoiled of their only defense
against fire, are often wholly destroyed. So it
happens that while the draining of the Everglades
makes it possible for forests to spring up and flour-
ish in some places it is the cause of their destruc-
tion in others.

The animal life of the Glades is most interest-
ing and especially so as regards the avifauna, or
rather, as regarded it. This was the home of the
flamingo, the terns and gulls, the scarlet ibis, and
the roseate spoonbill. Here too were myriad
egrets in dainty, snowy robes, the capricious brides
of the feathery kingdom. All gave life and color
to the great swamp. Still lingering here are the
strange limpkins—Aramus vociferus—that wail out
their ‘‘whee-ee-eu’’; also the equally strange
snake bird Anhinga anhinga which swims with the
body submerged and only the serpentlike head
and neck visible. There are herons, bitterns,
coots, ducks, the cormorant, the Everglade kite,
and many others, but the heydey of bird life has
passed and is passing. The wildcat makes its

128 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

home on the ‘“‘islands’’ and along the borders of
the Glades preying upon its smaller mammals;
deer are still found occasionally; raccoons and
otters are fairly abundant.

The waters are well stocked with fish of several
species. Black bass is common, but the most
notable of fish is a gar pike belonging to the genus
Lepisosteus which differs in many essential points
from all other groups of the present day. There
are supposedly three species of this genus in the
waters of the United States, one of which also
extends its range into Cuba. A fourth species is
Central American and a fifth Chinese. These
ganoids (as the order of the gar pikes is called)
date their origin in the Lower Silurian period—
many many million years ago. Together with
the sharks which also inhabited these primordial
seas and still exist in our waters, these were the
first known fishes of our planet. The ganoids
swarmed in the ancient oceans of pregeological
epochs, but few species remain to-day. The
Everglade pike is one.

The entire ganoid structure is ‘‘old-fashioned”’
to a remarkable degree. In the earlier forms
the skeleton was cartilaginous but in the recent

THE EVERGLADES 129

species it is more or less ossified. The vertebre
have ball and socket joints, like those of the ser-
pents, and wholly unlike those of all other fishes
(inverted cone). The head moves on the neck
independently of the body. The scales of the gar
pikes are so hard that fire may be struck from
them with a piece of steel, and they are arranged
in diagonal rows running from the back down-
ward and backward. They are very curiously
fitted together, in some cases being fastened to
each other by a system of hooks; they do not lap
over as in regular fishes but form instead a coat
of armor. A remarkable fish indeed!

I never look at one of these strange creatures so
abundant in the Glades, but I am reminded of the
serpents and feel more and more sure that they
developed from these ancient fishes. The sight of
some survivor from the early dawn of life always
fills me with awe and reverence. A few Brachy-
opods or lamp shells still inhabit our seas though
they developed and lived in myriads in the old
Cambrian ocean, among the very earliest forms
of life known to inhabit our world. Two of their
genera, Lingula and Discina, which are among

the oldest genera known survive to-day and living
9

130 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

species of these groups can scarcely be separated
from the ancient fossil ones. A remnant of
Crinoids or ‘‘stone lilies” still survives and this
order too goes back to the first days of life.

What a wonderful amount of generic vitality
such creatures must have; what powers of adapta-
tion to diversified environment; what ability to
hold on tenaciously to their structure and family
characters throughout the countless ages! We
boast of our old families that date back some
generations but here are creatures whose an-
cestors have kept ‘their vigor and likeness a
thousand times longer than the human race! I
feel like taking off my hat and bowing to
them.

Shortly after coming to Dade County I made
a trip to Paradise Key, a large island in the Lower
Everglades and covered with magnificent ham-
mock. I went in company with my neighbor,
John Soar, and A. A. Eaton, a man in the prime of
life and an excellent botanist. He had a fine
physique, was full of life and humor, was most
companionable and altogether one of the best
woodsmen I ever knew. We were always pleas-
antly bantering each other. We drove over pre-

THE EVERGLADES 131

posterous roads to Camp Jackson, a sort of depot
of surveyors for the Florida East Coast Railway,
and lying on the edge of the Glades. Thence
with camp outfit we proceeded afoot for the island,
three or four miles away.

The surface was irregular rock, which, as we
proceeded, became covered with water and so
slippery that we were constantly sliding into pot
holes. In fact the walking consisted mostly in
slipping down and getting up again. At length
we reached the headwaters of Taylor River and
Soar suggested that we keep close together when
crossing. Eaton asked why and was told that
there might be alligators or crocodiles. He con-
temptuously offered to eat the entire saurian sup-
ply that might be found in Dade County, and
boldly waded in. In midstream, the water to his
armpits, there suddenly began a tremendous com-
motion and for a minute the surface of the stream
was all arms, legs, blankets, and camp equipage,
along with the tail and body of a monster alligator.
Eaton finally crawled out looking very pale and
explained that he had stepped on what he thought
was a log. When we finally waded across Soar
took the lead and Eaton stuck very close to me.

132 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

After that I frequently reminded him of his
promise to eat the alligator crop.

We tramped through the magnificent forest of
Paradise Key, leaving our equipage beside a very
tall royal palm where we entered. Soar skinned a
rattlesnake which Eaton shot and I collected a
large bag of rare orchids; then we started back to
our outfit but, after searching an hour, we were
unable to locate it. At last Eaton climbed a tree
and saw it just to the right, we having passed close
to it a number of times. We had intended to
camp on the key but for some reason Soar and
Eaton thought it better to return to Camp Jack-
son, so we started about sundown. On the way
Soar became dreadfully ill, probably from the
offensive odor of the snake, so Eaton hurried on to
a clump of scrub ahead, hung up his load, and
returning took that of Soar, He said he would
push on to an incipient hammock we had passed
coming in and we would make camp there.

As he disappeared in the darkness I took his
bearings by a star and slowly followed. The sack
containing my orchids weighed about forty pounds
at starting, but gradually increased to the size and
weight of a freight car. I constantly fell into pot

THE EVERGLADES 133

holes, and once I lost my pack in the saw grass.
At last I made out the little scrubby growth, and
on entering I stumbled over Eaton’s pack, but
though I called I got no reply.

From a dead limb I shaved off some kindling
and soon had a fire started. Poor Soar, now very
weak, saw the light from a long way off and
headed slowly for it, and soon Eaton arrived with
a lightwood log that he had obtained from the
forest beyond. He said that the building of that
fire was the only sensible thing he ever knew me to
do. Soar finally arrived in dreadful condition
and he vomited most of the night. We were
camped on a small ragged rock which nowhere rose
more than a foot above the water and was full of
potholes. Here we turned in for the night on the
most wretched bed I ever saw. Towards morning
we all slept but at dawn I got up to stretch my
cold, aching limbs. Within twenty feet of us was
a fine dry island a rod across, almost perfectly
level, covered with nice soft grass,—an ideal
place fora camp. Eaton suggested that we each
take turns kicking the others and he basely
attempted to lay the responsibility of the camp
selection on me.

134 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

On our way back to Miami we camped near the
shack of a couple of tall, solemn-looking Georgians
who lived on the edge of the Glades. They came
out to inspect us when they were through supper.
Eaton was in excellent spirits and constantly
rallied me, and I retorted as best I could. When
bedtime came I went with the Georgians to get a
pail of water from their well when one of them
said to me: ‘‘That feller’s mighty aggrivatin’.”
I agreed that he was and the man said ‘‘Do ye
know what ’ud happen in my country if one feller
abused another the way he done you-all? Thar’ud
a bin some shootin’ a-goin’ on, mighty quick; you
kin bet yer life on that.’’ Poor Eaton! He went
north, married the woman of his choice, and wrote
me how supremely happy he was,—and then I
heard of his sudden death. Had he lived he would
have become famous as a botanist.

Shortly after the opening of the North New
River Canal I made a trip from Ft. Myers up the
Caloosahatchee River, through the Disston Canal
and Lake Okeechobee to the little settlement of Rita,
thence down to Ft. Lauderdale. I had made many
visits into the edgeof the great prairie before but this
trip gave me my first true idea of its vastness and

THE EVERGLADES 135

sublimity. A heavy belt of pond-apple’ forest
(Annona) skirts the south shore of Okeechobee
but soon it faded from view as we moved down
the canal. Then for hours we passed a reach of
saw grass, apparently as level as the lake itself and
extending in solemn grandeur without interruption
to the horizon,—only grass and sky.

This is in the ‘‘Upper Glades,” its limestone
foundation deeply buried under a bed of muck.
Although the surface appeared to be absolutely
level the strong current in the canal told another
story. Some thirty miles from the lake the rock
appears on the surface, and as usual is full of pot
holes which, in turn, are filled with muck; then
comes a belt of soil, said to be deep; farther on
the rock again reappears.

I remained on the upper deck of the boat during
most of the passage, fascinated by the wonderful
scene. It differs from the prairies of the Upper
Mississippi Valley in being flat and partly covered
with water, whereas they are rolling and dry.
There is a suggestion of the sea in this vast stretch
of swamp. Smoke arose far away to the southwest,
no doubt from a fire in the Lower Glades, as though
from some steamer hull down below the horizon.

136 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Since the opening of the canal I again crossed
the Glades but on account of low water the boat
from Fort Myers only carried me to La Belle on
the Caloosahatchee. I induced a man going up
stream in a skiff launch to take me to Rita on the
lake. Just as we were starting he was hailed by
three men in a rowboat who immediately came
aboard, fastening their craft behind ours. They
were all fishermen who plied their trade in the big
lake, and in all my wanderings I have never seen a
rougher crowd in dress, appearance, or manners.
The man who carried me said he was forty-five but
he looked twenty years older with a face dread-
fully marked by a rough life and dissipation. He
was addressed as ‘‘Th’ ole man” by the others
who were much younger. I was decently dressed,
had some money and _a watch, and I confess to a
little fear of my companions who might so easily
knock me on the head and throw me overboard.’

We ran up the palmetto-bordered Caloosahat-
chee, which I consider more beautiful than the
famed St. Johns, but towards night our engine
began to give trouble and seriously to delay us.
It was midnight when we stopped at a shanty
along the canal; the men made a fire and cooked

THE EVERGLADES 137

some supper and we made a try for the forty
winks. At daylight we resumed our journey with
a still balky engine and only reached Lake Hic-
pochee after nightfall. We had no food all that
day but at night I had to force the men to share a
few cakes I had with me.

The boatman attempted to cross the lake to a
camp where the canal entered and where we all
hoped to get food. Before long I saw by the stars
that we were wandering aimlessly about and
finally the men had to admit being lost. They
then hauled the tow alongside, laid a piece’ of
board, some poles, and the oars lengthwise over
the thwarts, spread out some blankets and told
me that was my bed. I remonstrated against
their self-denial but the old man impatiently said:
“‘Oh, d—n it, don’t set thar chawin’ about it; we
got a-plenty o’ beddin’,” so I crawled in, or rather,
on, for a fair night’s sleep. In the gray dawn I
awoke and Jooked at my companions in the
launch. There was a heavy fog and the air was
raw; not one of them had a shred of cover. One
was perched in the bow of the boat, one sat on a
box, while the other two were just managing to
lie on the thwarts, for there was water in the bot-

138 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

tom of the skiff; all were fast asleep. These
toughs and outlaws had given their blankets to
make a bed for me—a stranger—in full expectation
of themselves spending a wretched night. Heart-
ily ashamed of myself for having suspected them
I conceived a feeling of genuine fellowship for the
whole lot! After many more vicissitudes I
arrived at Rita and eventually home.

No sketch of the Everglades would be complete
without some account of that strange, pathetic
remnant of Indian life—the Seminoles. According
to a recent estimate there are only about four
hundred of them left, and though once a coura-
geous and fierce tribe they are now reduced to the
conventional level of very well-behaved and harm-
less people. They live, a few families together, in
widely scattered camps, located on the pine land
amid the cypress strands or on islands in the
Glades. Their camps are built without any ordet
or accepted plan of arrangement. The dwellings
are the merest shelters; they cannot even be
called huts. A platform seven or eight feet
square is elevated a couple of feet on crotches or
posts and the small logs of this are either flattened
off into puncheons or left natural. A low span

ews “y uyof iq Aq 0}04d
JOANY aaysojoyoyy jo pwazy Jo yowg ‘ssemd&y Aurmoy, ur spuvjeulg “dwey ejounmes Juouvutied

THE EVERGLADES 139

roof, usually of palmetto thatch, shelters the plat-
form and it is open to wind and weather on all
sides. In such a mansion the family resides. Their
houses must be rather uncomfortable during severe
northers although the tenants may improvise some
kind of curtains in periods of storm.

The Seminoles raise some garden vegetables—
especially a very fine small sweet pumpkin. The
men hunt deer and other animals and trap otters
for their skins. The women make baskets, bead
work, and various trinkets to sell. The latter
wear long gowns and acape bordered with a high-
ly colored fringe; a short jacket beneath does not
always reach to the skirt. Many strings of blue
or red glass beads are strung about the neck and
shoulders, the whole sometimes weighing twenty
pounds. Around the bottom of the skirt are one
or more belts of striking colors which look as
though the woman had appropriated a section of
the rainbow. ‘The men wear a shirt that reaches
to the knees and is belted around the waist. This
shirt is usually decorated with what remains of the
rainbow. In some cases they wear a highly col-
ored turban and also trousers but the majority
go bare as to head, legs, and feet.

140 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

They are quiet and dignified in manner, are
absolutely truthful and fully aware of their su-
periority in this respect over the white man. One
of the paleface vices they cherish to an extra-
ordinary degree,—the love of firewater or ‘‘why-
ome”’ as they call it. They generally indulge a
bit freely when in town, but they are not given
to noise or viciousness when intoxicated. A tipsy
Seminole can get just a little more wabbly on his
legs without actually falling than can any other
human being.

Their words are composed of a great number of
syllables. Willoughby has given a vocabulary of
them in his book Across the Everglades and in
this only two words have a single syllable while
many run up into eight or more. For instance
heron is ‘‘wak-ko-lot-ko-o-hi-lot-tee”’; instep is ‘‘e-
lit-ta-pix-tee-e-fa-cho-to-kee-not-ee,”” and wrist
“‘in - tee - ti- pix - tee-e-toke-kee-kee-tay-gaw.” I
should think it would take a half hour for a Sem-
inole to ask the time of day, but fortunately he
has plenty of time.

There is something very distressing in the grad-
ual passing of the wilds, the destruction of the
forests, the draining of the swamps and lowlands,

lleug “yy uyof ‘iq Aq ojoyg

‘0D oped
‘repuey jo som ‘HOowUB_Y ssoidhp ur dureg ojounnes ye ‘Awunf AuU0y “Iq jo Ajrurey jo ye

THE EVERGLADES 141

the transforming of the prairies with their won-
derful wealth of bloom and beauty, and in its
place the coming of civilized man with all his un-
sightly constructions,—his struggles for power,
his vulgarity and pretensions. Soon this vast,
lonely, beautiful waste will be reclaimed and
tamed; soon it will be furrowed by canals and
highways and spanned by steel rails. A busy,
toiling people will occupy the places that sheltered
a wealth of wild life. Gaily dressed picnicers or
church-goers will replace the flaming and scarlet
ibis, the ethereal egret and the white flowers of the
crinums and arrowheads, the rainbow bedecked
garments of the Seminoles. In place of the cries
of wild birds there will be heard the whistle of the
locomotive and the honk of the automobile.

We constantly boast of our marvelous national
growth. We shall proudly point some day to the
Everglade country and say: ‘‘Only a few years
ago this was a worthless swamp; to-day it is an
empire.’ But I sometimes wonder quite seriously
if the world is any better off because we have de-
stroyed the wilds and filled the land with countless
human beings. Is the percentage of happiness
greater in a state of five million inhabitants than

142 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

in one of half a million, or in a huge city with all
its slums and poverty than in a village? In short
I question the. success of our civilization from the
point of view of general happiness gained for all or
for the real joy of life for any.

CHAPTER VII
The Planting of Our Flora

OWER Florida, including the Everglades, has
a mixed flora, consisting, for the most
part, of the warm temperate and the
tropical forms; the latter somewhat pre-
dominate. There are also quite a number of
species which are immigrants from north of
latitude 40°. Then, too, as almost everywhere,
there is an element, always increasing, of species
naturalized from the Old World. These are
the floral tramps which follow the migration of
man and make themselves at home wherever the
climate is suitable. A few forms were developed
right here from species which originally migrated
from the American tropics, and these may prop-
erly be called semi-tropical.

During the glacial period of early pleistocene
time a great ice cap covered the northern part of
America even to the Ohio and Lower Missouri

143

144 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

rivers. The slowly advancing wall of ice and the
cold temperature drove the flora southward.
We have in Lower Florida at least seventy-five
species of plants which also range north to or
beyond the fortieth parallel, some of which reach
even into Canada. These probably had fled before
the oncoming glaciers in the north but finding here
conditions favorable for their growth, they re-
mained and became a permanent part of our flora.
Some of these have continued their range into the
West Indies and a very few, such as the common
reed and cattail, have a still wider distribution,
even including the Old World. It is therefore
impossible to be sure in every case whether a
species originated in the north, the American
tropics, or in the Orient.

It is probable that before the glacial period, a
warm temperate or semi-tropical flora inhabited
the region of our present Southern States and a
more strictly tropical one the lower part of Florida.
The cold of the ice age exterminated the tenderer
plants, for although there was no actual ice cap in
the Southern States, the many years of continu-
ous winter materially lowered the temperature
throughout the south. Some Florida remnants

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA 145

are recognizable of this old warm temperate and
subtropical flora. The porcupine palm (Rhapido-
phyllum hystrix), the blue stem (Sabal adansoni)
(both of the upper part of the State), the saw pal-
metto (Serenoa serrulata), the cabbage palmetto
(Sabal palmetto), and two species of comptie
(Zamia pumila and Z. floridana), together with a
few other plants appear to be survivors of pre-
glacial days.

A number of large mammals such as the ele-
phant, rhinoceros, mastodon, the saber-toothed
tiger, a glyptodon (one of those strange forms
which seems to have been intended for a gigantic
tortoise but which through some misdeal in crea-
tion became a mammal), and many others, then
inhabited Florida. They endured here the cold of
glacial times and survived to enjoy the genial period
which succeeded,—then, for some unaccountable
reason, they became extinct. Possibly their vital-
ity was lowered by the long, severe winter.

There are in the neighborhood of 1200 species
of native and naturalized flowering plants growing
on the lower mainland of Florida and about 50
ferns and their allies. To these add 250 species
on the Florida Keys not known to inhabit the

146 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

mainland, and we get some 1500 total in an area
of 3000 square miles. I confess at first to sur-
prise at the small number of species in a region
of the size and lying, too, at the very door of the
tropics. On reflection, however, the reason is
easily understood. The area considered is very
new; it was elevated above the sea only yesterday
(geologically speaking) and is scarcely dried off
yet. Hence there has been insufficient time to
accumulate an extensive flora. The sandy soil is
poor, and over much of the area the rocky ground
has no covering whatever. Lime is poison to many
species of plants and such will not grow in most of
our territory. There is but slight variation in the
contour of the entire region and this would pre-
clude the mountain species and those affecting
elevated or broken land.

I have already stated that the Florida Keys are
being worn away and that they formerly occupied
a larger area than at present. Dr. Small, who
has made a careful study of the flora of Lower
Florida, believes that some species of plants which
formerly existed on the keys are found there no
longer, having inhabited land now destroyed;
this view is doubtless correct,

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA 147

The Everglades stretch almost across the
northern part of Lower Florida like a line of forti-
fications forbidding entrance to dry-land plants of
the warm temperate region. According to the
map of the Everglades Drainage District the great
swamp comes out to the Gulf of Mexico in the
neighborhood of Chatham River and extends
south along the Ten Thousand Islands to Cape
Sable, but there is at least one considerable body
of hammock land along Rodgers River. At any
rate the immigration of the more northern dry-
land plants is prevented on the west and they can
only enter the lower part of the State along the
sandy, rocky ridge near the east coast. The seeds
of a few like the thistles and other Composite may
have been wind-borne from the northward.

All the tropical part of our flora has migrated
in some way across the sea; even the seeds of
Cuban plants must have crossed a strait at least
ninety miles wide. The question of how they
reached our shores and became established is a
very interesting one.

It has been claimed that a land passage con-
nected Cuba and the lower end of Florida within
the lifetime of our existing plants and animals, but

148 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

in another chapter I give my reasons for believing
this an error. Many tropical trees and shrubs
produce berries and drupes, the seeds of which are
indigestible but the surrounding pulp is relished
and eagerly devoured by birds. The seeds may
be carried long distances before being ejected, and
as they retain their vitality they may germinate
and grow in distant regions. Guppy has written
his observations in the Pacific, and the burden of
it seems to be to prove that birds do almost all
the carrying of seeds across oceans. He believes
they have transported many plant species from
the American tropics to the Hawaiian Islands, a
distance of three thousand miles. It seems to me
more probable that most of the American plants
now found in the Pacific were transported as float-
ing seeds or on timber at the time when an Atlantic
current passed westward through what is now the
Isthmus of Panama.

There are hundreds of trees and shrubs in Cuba
which bear edible drupes and berries, but very
few of them have become established on our shores.
For example, there are more than seventy species
of Eugenias and their allies in that near-by island
which have fruits adapted to bird transport, yet

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA _ 149

we have only ten of them in Florida and two of
those are possibly endemic. I cannot believe
that any substantial part of our tropical flora has
been planted in this way. Most of the drupes
and berries in Cuba ripen in the summer and
autumn. Our migrating birds go to that island
in the fall and remain through the winter (or pass
‘farther south), returning to Florida in the spring
when very few such fruits are on the trees.

We have here many tropical herbaceous plants
the seeds of which are freely eaten by birds but
which are as freely digested. Such seeds, then,
could not under ordinary circumstances have
been bird-transported to our territory. It is
possible in very rare cases that birds having eaten
such seeds in Cuba might at once fly across to
Florida and be killed immediately on arriving.
But even so it is questionable whether such seeds
would germinate after having been acted upon by
gastric juices. .

But there exists another fatal objection against
the birds having planted any great portion of our
tropical flora. I have shown in another chapter
that there are three distinct areas of dry-land life
in Lower Florida and that they exist because they

150 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

have never been connected since the present life
migrated to their shores. I am convinced that
this life was largely current-borne and was brought
to the different land areas at different times. Jf
the greater part of our tropical plants had been intro-
duced by birds the seeds would have been scattered
promiscuously over our entire territory, and the
more tropical part of the State would be inhabited
by only a single flora!

Some of the minute or winged seeds might be,
and probably were, carried across during hurri-
canes, especially those of the air pines, the orchids,
Jamaica dogwood, mahogany, and the spores of
ferns, but I believe that a majority of our tropical
plants were introduced by the Gulf Stream. A
number of the drupes, berries, and other seeds
float and retain their vitality in salt water for a
considerable time. In little bays along the coast
of Utilla Island, Honduras, I have seen acres of
seeds of every conceivable description densely
crowded together and floating,—held, as one might
say, in these great warehouses awaiting shipment
to Mexico, Jamaica, Cuba, or to Lower Florida.
Some wayward current or strong wind might drive
them out into the open sea and into the Gulf

Hammock Scene at ‘‘The Sentinels,” Home of the Author. Tree Loaded
with Vines, Long Moss, and Various Epiphytes
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA _ 151

Stream, thus putting them aboard the great trans-
port which carried them to their final destinations.

On the floor of any tropical forest there are
always decaying limbs and tree trunks, and often
in considerable numbers. The exposed surfaces
of such fallen timber usually decay first and on
them soon forms a thin bed of loose soil. Seeds
fall on this and find it an excellent place to germi-
nate. On one of these decaying logs in my little
hammock I once counted no less than ninety
seedlings of trees and shrubs which grew near
by,—seven species in all. These little plants
came from several different crops of fruit, some of
them being three or four years old. Digging into
the decaying wood I. found many other fresh and
sprouting seeds. Here was a garden richly planted
and all needed to establish it elsewhere would be
transportation of the log itself.

Suppose that such a tree lay in a stream valley,
say in North Cuba, and that in time of some great
downpour of rain (during a hurricane for example)
it was washed into the Florida Strait. The cur-
rent of the Gulf Stream moves eastward and north
at the rate of about three miles an hour and this
would rapidly bear driftwood toward Florida,

152 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

especially if it was aided by a strong wind. There
is a westward and southerly return current or
‘back wash”’ along the mainland and the Florida
Keys and throughout the entire region prevailing
winds are southeast; hence all the conditions
favor the landing of such seed-bearing timber on
our lower coasts.

Along many tropical shores the waves indus-
triously undermine the forests carrying seed-
bearing trees to sea and if these are drifted into
this great ocean current they may be brought to
our shores. Beebe tells in a recent number of the
Atlantic Monthly of the great quantities of timber
and grass which the rivers of Guiana annually
bring down, and all such debris may bear seeds
of trees, shrubs, and herbaceous plants. Even
considerable islands of matted roots and living
vegetation float down these tropical rivers and
drift far out to sea.

Some of these water-borne seeds retain their
vitality perfectly after a long voyage. Those of
at least three species of mucuna or ox-eye sea
beans; Entada scandens, the great brown sea bean;
the magnificent calaba tree (Calophyllum calaba);
two nicker beans (Guilandina); Canavalias and

Weg “yy uyof ‘iq Aq oud
Bplio,y ‘Aay asipeivg ‘ejeyexa sidajosydayy ‘UO U0}SOg IO PIOMg

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA _ 153

others often germinate after being cast up on our
beaches; even the fleshy bulbs of Crinum and
Hymenocallis are not the least injured by an
ocean voyage. Why, then, it may reasonably be
asked, do they not spring up and form colonies
along our shores? The reason is that local con-
ditions are not congenial for most of them. The
material forming the shores of the open sea is
impregnated with salt; at times the sea may roll
over it, and even if this were not the case a beach
situation is too much exposed for most inland
plants.

However, the seeds of certain of these species
do come up and flourish when thus cast on the
outer shores. Leaving out all the naturally lit-
toral forms, such as mangroves and other strand
species, we do find in many such places the two
Pithecolobiums (P. guadelupensis and P. unguts-
cati); Reynosia latifolia or darling plum; two species
of Chrysobalanus or coco plum; Eugenia buxtfolia
or Spanish stopper (all small trees), and also sev-
eral shrubs and herbaceous plants which seem to
do nearly as well along the shore as at a distance
from it.

During the time of hurricanes tidal waves

154 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

sometimes sweep across the keys and to some
extent portions of the mainland of Lower Florida,
and it is at such times that most of the tropical
seeds are distributed over the land. Some years
ago, while one of these storms raged, the sea was
driven over the southeast coast of the State until
it covered all or the greater part of Elliott’s and
Largo keys: This wave passed inland until a
considerable area of the Homestead country was
under water. Two men in boats were driven far
in the mainland; one immediately pushed out on
the retreating tide, the other delayed until after
the water subsided, his launch grounded, and he
never could float it again.

In his West Indian Hurricanes Garriott gives
an account of a storm accompanied by a tidal
wave that is in point. He says (page 49): “In
the month of September of the year 1759 a heavy
gale of wind from the northeast so greatly impeded
the current of the Gulf Stream that the water
forced, at the same time, in the Gulf of Mexico
by the trade winds, rose to such a height that not
only the Tortugas and other islands disappeared,
but the highest trees were covered on the Peninsula
of Larga, and at this time (so says Wm. Gerard de

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA | 155

Brahm, Esq.) the Litbury, John Lorrain, master,
being caught in the gale, came to anchor, as the
master supposed, in Hawke Channel, but to his
great surprise found his vessel the next day high
and dry on Elliott’s Island and his anchor sus-
pended in the boughs of a tree.”’ This sounds a
good deal like a ‘‘fish story”’ but I give it for what
it may be worth. It will be noticed that Key
Largo is called a ‘‘peninsula,” and at the time of
this storm it no doubt was. Such tidal waves as
this could easily carry floating material far out
upon the land and the storms which cause them
almost always occur in the late summer or fall,
the very time when the greater part of the Cuban
and Bahaman seeds ripen.

It is probable that there may be at intervals, a
series of years when conditions are especially
favorable for the transportation of tropical seeds
to our shores and for the planting and establishing
of them in suitable stations. During such time
there would be little frost or drought and hurri-
canes would visit Cuba or the Bahamas and sweep
over to our shores. Then on the other hand come
years when we may be visited by a severe frost or
drought; the forest fires may sweep over wide

156 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

areas and exterminate well-established species.
In time of very cold weather the mangroves and
other littoral trees are sometimes entirely de-
stroyed along extensive reaches of our coasts. I
have seen nearly every young plant of the paradise
tree in a dense hammock killed by freezing. The
same is equally true of certain other kinds of very
tender trees. There are records of plants col-
lected by the older botanists in Lower Florida not
found here now, and it is all but certain they were
not exterminated by man.

In the northern part of Lower Florida the
tropical vegetation is almost entirely confined to
the seashore and its immediate vicinity. This is
caused by the fact that the temperature along the
ocean is several degrees warmer than it is a short
distance inland. Birds carry tropical seeds from
the shore and drop them in the interior but owing
to the winter cold they either do not grow or the
plants die when very young. In the southern
parts of Monroe and Dade counties the inland
climate is warmer and at Paradise Key in the
Everglades (thirteen miles in from the nearest
shore) over fifty species of tropical trees are found.
A nearly equal number grow in a hammock close

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA 157

to the sea at Fort Lauderdale, fully fifty miles
north of Paradise Key, but almost no tropical
flora is found a couple of miles back from the
shore. At Chokoloskee, on the west coast, a large
number of tropical forms are met, but five miles
away from the gulf the vegetation is warm tem-
perate. A few of the hardier West Indian plants
extend their range for a distance up the coasts
and some even into the interior of the peninsula.

Along the west bluff of Indian River, just south
of Fort Pierce, in latitude 27°30’, I found thirty
species of tropical trees and shrubs. Ten rods
inland there began to be a few species of warm
temperate trees and at twenty rods back scarcely
any tropical species were to be found. Just to
the west of this fringe of hammock is a series of
nearly parallel, lofty sand dunes which deflect up-
ward the cold north-west winds, carrying them over
the top of the forest and at the same time inviting
an eddy of warm air from the river to draw in and
protect the vegetation of the beach. No doubt
the cold air settles immediately in the lee of the
ridge, thus. preventing the tropical growth from
extending to it.

Quite a number of species of our native tropical

158 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

trees, near the northern part of their range, do not
bear fruit with any regularity. In fact they may
be entirely barren for a series of years, or at most
produce but sparingly. Simarouba glauca, one
of the quassia trees, grows to a large size in the
northern part of our area, but I have never seen
it bloom or seed. That it does sometimes do so,
even as far north as Fort Lauderdale, is certain, for
in the hammocks young trees are abundant,
Pisonia obtusata seldom fruits, while Pithecolobium
guadelupense and the fiddlewood (Citharexylum)
often fail for one or more seasons. After a shorter
or longer period of barrenness there may come
such an abundant crop of seeds that the ground
under the trees is fairly covered with them. The
reason for this variability of production is easily
explained. The winter climate of the northern
part of our area is so cool that some of these ten-
derer trees seldom develop flowers or fruit. A
hard frost may occur during the blooming or set-
ting period but the tree itself may not be greatly
injured; hence its barrenness except when the sea-
son is favorable. Insects or drought sometimes des-
troy acrop. Again it is possible that some years
these trees overbear and thus so exhaust the soil it

Fronds Eight Feet

Sword Fern on Palmetto.

trata,

Nephrolepis bise

Cutler Hammock

Photo by Wilson Popenoe

Long.

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA 159

requires some time to recover. This irregularity
may be due in part to the poverty of the soil, for
even our cultivated fruit trees with all the diligent
care we give them usually produce more abundant-
ly on alternate years.

If all the seeds from a ‘‘bumper crop” germi-
nated there would not be room for the little plants
to stand and nearly all would die of overcrowding.
So the trees seem to resort to an expedient, as do
many animals. They apparently use devices
which if employed by humans would be attributed
to reason. They-cannot voluntarily regulate
their bearing but they seem able to control their
seeds for a time after they have fallen; in other
words, they adopt a sort of balance wheel principle
in the germination of the fruits to counterbalance
the irregularity with which they produce them.
So it often comes about that only a few seeds may
come up at once and those of a single crop may
continue to germinate for a long series of ‘years.
This gives them a far better chance, for if all
grew at once (granting plenty of room), a hard
freeze, a fire, a drought, floods, insects, or disease
might destroy them all. They do not put all
their eggs in one basket. ;

160 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Twelve years ago I introduced Leucena glauca,
a handsome naturalized tree, into my grounds, but
finding that it spread by means of its seeds until
it became an unmitigated nuisance I dug it out
‘entirely. Ever since its seeds have been coming
up by thousands and there is a prospect that they
will continue to do so for many years to come.
Elsewhere I have mentioned the fact that seeds
sometimes fall before they are mature and that
they no doubt ripen afterwards while lying in the
ground. This is probably the case with Leucena;
a few only are ripe when they fall and they at
once come up, while the rest slowly mature and
grow through a long series of years.

I have noticed a curious thing in connection
with the germination of the seeds of our wild
papaw. When I first occupied my home it did not
grow in my hammock but in a year or two an
immense number of seedlings sprang up which in
two or three years became small trees and bore
abundant fruit. As it is short lived the plants
quickly matured and began to die, so in a few years
not one could be found. The seeds which pro-
duced this crop of trees were undoubtedly in the
ground when I came, and had sprung from a

Weg “Yt uyof ‘iq Aq oyo4g
‘OD OpEd JaMOT ‘puvjould Ul a1Ielg S,Jaj9q Iwan, “soyoorg erSAzeyay ‘qniys eaney [NJWnveg

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA 161

former set of plants. Either the conditions had
been unfavorable for their germination or the
seeds may have been immature. It is probable
that in the near future there will be another crop.
The same thing is true of Trema floridana, another
of our small, short-lived trees, and perhaps of some
others. Our common swamp magnolia (supposed
to be Magnolia glauca) grows to be a large tree and
produces seed abundantly, but while the parent
lives one rarely sees a young plant under or about
it. As soon as it dies a host of seedlings come up,
closely filling the space where it stood, and for a
series of years a battle royal takes place between
the young trees. The stronger gradually choke
out the weaker ones and eventually two or three
overcome all the rest, or it may be that only a
single victor will survive, to occupy the site of the
former tree.

There are a number of plants found in the
Homestead country in Dade County not known
from any other part of the United States. Among
these is the beautiful Tetrazygia bicolor, a shrub of
the fire-swept pine woods but becoming a small
tree in the protected hammocks. It belongs to

the Melastomacez, a family which has its metropo-
It

162 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

lis in the American tropics but is feebly repre-
sented with us. When covered with its great
heads of white blossoms it is one of our finest
ornamentals. Besides this there is the myrtle-
of-the-river (Calyptranthes zuzygium), Alvaradoa
amorphoides, a few other trees, and a variety of
herbaceous plants, including a number of ferns. A
lovely Cuban vine (Ipomea fuchsioides) with large
crimson flowers scrambles over the rocks and
sometimes the low trees and shrubs. The seeds
of all these may have drifted in and gained a foot-
hold on the rocky ridge at a time when the great
brackish swamp lying to the southeast of Home-
stead was wholly under water and before the final
elevation of the Upper Keys.

It is possible that our streams, short and narrow
as they are, sometimes act as barriers to north or
south migration of certain of our plants. Cera-
tiola ertcoides and Bejaria racemosa, two large
shrubs common in the northern part of the State,
extend to Little River but do not occur south of
it; nor does the laurel oak which has a somewhat
similar distribution. An appreciable number of
tropical plants do not pass north of the Miami
River, such as Lysiloma bahamensis, Drypetes

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA _ 163

keyensis, Exostema caribeum, the Jamaica dog-
wood, and several others. As these streams all
rise in the Everglades and empty into the sea the
plants cannot migrate around them. The water
alone does not prevent their passing, but the low
hammock and swamp on each side of it may do
so.

To this it may be objected that as the birds eat
the drupes and berries of many of our hammock
trees and shrubs, ejecting the seeds undigested,
the watercourses could form no barrier to their
flight. But I have found that in almost every case
where the streams seem to limit the distribution of
plants their seeds are not such as would be carried
by birds. Those of the dogwood are winged; of
the crabwood, Bejaria, Ceratiola, and some others
are contained in capsules and the Lysiloma bears
beanlike seeds in pods. Probably nearly all of
these are eaten by birds but the seeds are of the
digestible sort.

Of course climate acts as a check to the northern
or southern distribution of many forms, there
being a limit of heat or cold which they cannot
endure, and these climatic boundaries seem to be
sometimes coincident with the watercourses.

164 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Finally, there are the adventive plants, the
wanderers, of which we have, as yet, comparatively
few species; but later, when the country is older
and more generally cultivated, there will surely
be an army of them. The railroad beds are regular
propagation gardens for foreign plants, but not
always of a helpful kind, for trains bring in seeds
which, for the most part, belong to injurious or
objectional species. Others come on clothing, in
automobiles or steamers, the latter bringing most
of our exotic plant tramps. Some of these are the
vilest weeds; a few have no decided characters for
good or evil and one or two are beneficial. The
sand burs (Cenchrus), beggar’s ticks (Bidens), and
the Boerhaavia, with oval crimped leaves and airy
panicles of minute purple flowers, are not only
undesirable weeds but they all bear the meanest
kind of burs. Our northern fleabane (Erigeron
canadensis) is beginning to creep in, so are the
ragweed (Ambrosia), the common purslane (Por-
tulacca), and a couple of Chenopodiums. The
pepper grass (Lepidium virginicum) is getting to be
common along the roadsides and it is a not un-
welcome immigrant with its pleasant, peppery-
tasting pods. The rapidity with which some of

THE PLANTING OF OUR FLORA _ 165

these introduced plants spread is amazing. Leta
new road be opened through the virgin forest and
sand burs, beggar’s ticks, Sidas, and Sporobalus—
the latter a useless grass from India—will form a
border along it in a single season. I elsewhere
mention the beautiful Natal grass (Tricholzna),
which is coming in rapidly and promises to be a
valuable forage plant. .

Not far from my home is an extensive rock pit
which has been abandoned over a year. It is
located in the pine woods at some distance from
any habitation or road, save the one over which
rock was hauled away. Within it I counted more
than sixty well-established species of plants, over
one third of which were adventive. The seeds
had been wind-borne; rains may have washed in a
few; wild animals and birds had carried some more,
and doubtless some had been brought by the teams
and wagons that did the hauling.

In the parable of the sower some seeds fell by
the wayside and the fowls devoured them; some
were cast on stony places to wither and die.
Other seeds were sown among thorns and were
choked, but still others fell in good ground and
brought forth thirty, sixty, even an hundred fold.

166 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

So it is with nature’s planting. Millions of seeds
of dry-land plants are washed into swamps and
other millions of those of marsh plants are trans-
ported to dry ground. Others are thrown on rocks
or upon salty sand dunes only to die, while count-
less others perish from cold, insects, and number-
less causes. But those of the noble pines, the saw
palmettos, and of the trees in the glorious ham-
mocks have certainly fallen into good ground and
have brought forth thirty, sixty, and even an hun-
dred fold.

CHAPTER VII
The Lure of the Piney Woods

O most people our pine forests are mono-
tonous to the point of dreariness, for
there is an endless repetition of a single
form of tree until the eye wearies of it.

Along our eastern border the ground is covered
with two species of low-growing palmettos, three
or four of small oaks, and quite a variety of shrubs
and herbaceous plants. A thorny, woody smilax
creeps over much of it, often binding the vegeta-
tion together until it is impossible to ‘penetrate
the dense growth, and it sometimes climbs well
up the pines. In the same part of our region a
small palmetto is also found on the rocky ridges
in considerable abundance. This is known as
the silver palm. (Coccothrinax garberi), a lovely
species with rich, glossy, deep green leaves having
a wonderful satinlike under surface. Here and

there are lofty, gaunt dead trees with crooked,
167

168 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

ragged limbs, decidedly striking and picturesque,
but not at all beautiful. These dead pines are the
favorite resorts for mocking birds, from which lofty
perches they pour forth their clear, strong music.

It might indeed seem that there could be neither
interest nor beauty in so desolate a region, but to
him who has eyes and ears trained to see and hear
and whose senses are responsive to Nature’s less
clamorous appeals the pine forest teaches some
fascinating lessons. Here, since the land was
elevated above the ocean, a constant battle has
raged for place and for the chance to live and
reproduce.

It is probable that shortly after the first eleva-
tion of our area in Pleistocene time the seeds of
our common pine (Pinus caribea) were deposited
on the higher land and the forest established. The
seeds are winged and are carried to considerable
distances by strong winds. It is commonly sup-
posed that ours is the same as the Georgia pine,
but though closely related and resembling it, it is
really different. This tree is the Caribbean or
slash pine. It inhabits the Bahamas, several of
the West India islands, Central America, and, in
the United States, the southern end of Florida and

Upper View. Pine Woods near Home of the Author
Photo by Prof. F. G. Smith

Lower View. Different Stages of Growth of Dwarfed Cabbage Palmetto (Sabal
palmetto), Plant on Left Just Beginning to Bend Over; Second Plant
Having Formed a Loop; Third Plant Beginning to Show Character
Leaves; Fourth Plant Fully Developed
Photo by T. E. Clements

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 169

the coasts to Louisiana and South Carolina.
Whether our stock came originally from the tropics
or developed from the long-leaved Georgia pine I
cannot say.

As soon as the pine forests were established in
our region, seeds of palmettos and of many species
of shrubs and herbaceous plants found their
way in and germinated, until the ground was
densely covered with undergrowth. As old trees
died conditions became perfect for a conflagration.
During a dry time some dead tree was struck by
lightning and set afire. In dead pines the sap-
wood becomes very light and corky and burns
slowly like punk, retaining fire a long time. The
bark burns more readily and with the decaying
sapwood easily falls off. The heartwood under-
neath is a mass of pitch, ready to flame up in an
instant and once started it burns for a long time
with intense heat. On the ground under the tree
there is usually a lot of highly inflammable dead
bark and rubbish and the palmettos everywhere
about burn like oil. Once started an all-con-
suming relentless fire is certain to rage through
the forest, progressing by leaps and bounds if
there is a strong wind.

170 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

No doubt the first conflagration that raged
through the lower Florida pine woods weought
terrible havoc and many species of plants were
completely destroyed. Of some perhaps a few
specimens in places less exposed to the heat sur-
vived. Since the pines have lived in fire-swept
areas from the very first, many young ones must
necessarily have escaped fatal injury, and the
_ same must be equally true regarding other plants
living in such situations.

Undoubtedly lightning fired the forest long
before human beings inhabited the region. Then
came prehistoric man, later the Indian, and at last
the Caucasian. At all events it is almost certain
that from the very beginning of the forest, fires
have swept through it at intervals of a few years.
I have seen such fires during a drought period
rush through the pines before a furious wind with
the speed of ahorse. The fire leaps to the tops of
the tallest trees and with a hissing burst of red
flame consumes their leaves. Young pines fully
eight inches in diameter may be killed outright.
All herbaceous and shrubby vegetation is in-
stantly devoured, including the oily leaves of the
palmettos; only their charred stems are left. Large

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 171

trees, apparently sound and healthy, but having
some dead or weak spot in their trunks, are toppled
over and destroyed.

It must be evident that no plant of any kind
can live through such an ordeal without extra-
ordinary luck or some special means of protection.
The bark of the pines is very thick and is likely
an excellent non-conductor. The leaves are long
and clustered around the buds; although they
contain resin they do not burn readily, and often
under the heat of an ordinary fire they are scarcely
singed. I have seen young trees not a foot high,
over which a fire had recently passed, the outer
leaves of which looked exactly as though they
had been scalded, while the plant itself was
wholly uninjured.

In what is called the Homestead country the
pine forest consists of tall, slender, straight trees,
of rather small size and set closely together. They
look so different from the trees of the Miami region
that they are quite commonly supposed to be a
different species. The reason for this difference
in appearance is because in Lower Dade com-
paratively little undergrowth exists on the very
rocky forest floor, hence the fires are much more

172 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

moderate and but few young pines are destroyed,
As a consequence they are slender and straight
and grow closer together. In the Miami area, on
the contrary the ground is covered with dense
undergrowth and most of the young pines are
killed. The few that do survive form an open
forest and with room to grow they become large,
rugged, and gnarled.

Anyone inspecting a pine woods after a severe
fire would be certain that every vestige of vege-
tation was utterly destroyed. Nothing is left
but a few burnt stems; blackness and desolation
are seen on every hand. With the exception of
some larger pines everything seems to be dead.
But visit the forest a fortnight later and young
tender growth is springing up everywhere. Grass
is peeping through the ashes and charred debris
and little green leaves are smiling amid the ruins.
Look carefully at the bases of small oaks and
other shrubs and see the young shoots beginning
to grow just at the ground or a little below the
surface. Now the vital part of all these plants is
safely hidden below the surface of the earth. This
is the lesson which has been forced upon the
dwellers of the inflammable pine belt,—a lesson that

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 173

cost many thousands of lives in the learning.
The plants of the pine woods must bury all that
is essential to their existence down where the heat
cannot injure it, or if it is above ground it must be
fire-proof !

Some of these plants have thick underground
stems, such as the comptie (Zamia floridana),
with its large parsniplike roots. It isa dicecious
plant, blooming in winter and spring, just when
the forests are most subject to fires. It probably
cannot change its period of blossoming to a less
dangerous season but it has developed an efficient
device for protecting its flowers and fruit from the
fire. These are contained in a large reddish brown
cone, the outside of which is padded with thick,
velvety, peltate plates with the edges set closely
together; each is supported by a stout stem spring-
ing from the central one. The flowers are at-
tached to the inside of these plates and when they
develop the latter spread a little apart to enable
the necessary exchange of pollen. At the time of.
blooming, if a fire sweeps the forest these thick
plates close tightly together. They are doubtless
excellent non-conductors and as the cones are close
to the ground it is rarely they suffer fatal injury.

174 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

When the large, oval, indigestible seeds ripen
and fall to the ground they are covered with a
lovely orange or scarlet pulp enclosed in a glossy
sac. This bright color attracts gophers and
various small wood animals and possibly certain
birds that relish the pulp. Thus a means of dis-
tribution is also provided.

This plant is a very old-fashioned one. It is in
fact a member of an order (Cycadaceze) which
belongs to the distant past. The group first
appeared in the Devonian and reached the apex of
its development in the Mesozoic, when these
plants were so abundant that the period is some-
times called the ‘‘Age of Cycads.” From then
on, the order decreased until now only about a
hundred species exist, all inhabiting the warmer
partsoftheearth. The leaves are pinnate, usually
rolled up when young and uncoiling as they
develop, after the manner of fern fronds. The
stamens and pistils are nude, there being no other
parts to the primitive flowers, and finally the seeds
are destitute of envelopes. Two species of the
order inhabit Lower Florida, Zamia pumila and Z.
floridana, and both have the seeds attached to the
inside of shieldlike plates as just described.

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 175

In order to protect itself from the fires the saw
palmetto grows in an almost absolutely prostrate
position, often with the lower half of its stems buried
in the ground. The upper or exposed parts of
these stems are so thickly covered with ‘‘boots”
(the bases of the old leaf stalks) that fire cannot
harm them. Only the growing point turns up-
ward and it is protected by the bases of the living
leaves and an almost fireproof netting. In the
pine land along the borders of swamps these pal-
mettos reach a great size and length, their growing
ends always pointing in the direction of the low
land. As they push on along the ground they
often fork and crawl over or under each other.
This can best be observed after a severe fire, for
then all the other vegetation is burned away. I
never look at them at such a time without fancying
that they are a lot of sleeping alligators, their scaly
backs completing the illusion, and I half expect to
see them wake with the slightest noise and rush
into the swamp. In the lowland, where there is
practically no danger of fire, this palm usually
grows half erect, and in wet ground it becomes
actually treelike, attaining a height of fifteen

feet.

176 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

The silver palm has the growing bud closely
covered not only with the bases of the leaves but
also with a strong netting of clothlike fiber for
the purpose of supporting the young foliage. This
fiber is almost as fire-resistant as asbestos. The
trunk—for it sometimes becomes a small tree—
is covered with a hard, corky thick bark, which
also furnishes an excellent protection against
heat.

One of the most interesting plants of the pine
woods is a stemless palm with stout leaf stalks and
heavy, fan-shaped leaves having midribs strongly
recurved (Sabal megacarpa). It begins life like
any ordinary palm by sending up a few slender,
entire leaves. Then the base of about the third
leaf bends back into the ground and then suddenly
turns upward, forming a blade above the ground.
The lower part of the next leaf in like manner
turns, going still deeper into the soil and then
ascends. About this time the little stem abruptly
changes its direction and grows almost vertically
back into the earth, leaving a blunt stub at the
point where it turned. As the plant grows the
stem goes deeper and deeper and the leaves come
up from the buried point, the stem always re-

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 177

maining well below the surface. It sends up
flower stems which under favorable circumstances
reach a height of four or five feet.

In other words, this strange plant begins life as
an ordinary palm, just as though it were going to
become a tree, but at an early stage of growth the
elongating trunk turns and grows the wrong way;
it actually backs down into the earth until it some-
times reaches a depth of sixteen inches, and only
sending up its leaves and flower stems above the
ground. Ordinarily the growing point is eight
inches to a foot below the surface. In grubbing
new land this big stem, filled with starchy matter,
is not reached at all with the grub hoe. The
leaves are cut but new ones constantly spring up,
and in order to kill the persistent plant an iron rod
must be thrust down into the growing bud and a
little kerosene poured in. If fire is kept out of
the pine woods for several years these same palms,
with confidence inspired, begin to grow into trees.
This is especially true where they are left standing
in cultivated ground. In such cases they soon
form a strong, erect trunk and develop into the
ordinary cabbage palmeittos !

This strange habit of growth is but a device to

178 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

protect the plant from destruction by fire. Of
course, the very young seedlings are in some dan-
ger before they can burrow into the earth but they
usually come up during the rainy season, when
that risk is very slight. Asa baseball friend put
it, ‘‘they beat it to first”’ before dry weather comes
on. This palm has been made a species separate
from the ordinary cabbage palmetto partly on
account of this peculiar manner of growth. It is
only a depauperate form. of that tree with an
abnormal growth habit wholly the result of un-
favorable environment.

As further evidence of this special adaptation to
fire, one may find in the edges of the hammocks,
where the danger from fire is greatly lessened,
plants with flattened, prostrate stems, and a little
farther in, the same plants rise at various angles.
Still deeper in the hammocks I cannot separate
them from the ordinary cabbage palmettos. This
strange reversed growth is seen in a number of our
cultivated Sabals and in a few other palms, show-
ing that they also have had to defend themselves
from fire in their native prairies or savannahs.
The dwarf Sabal has larger seeds than the cabbage
palmetto, a fact also used asa character in separat-

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 179

ing it specifically from the tree form. It is well
known however that the seeds of many depau-
perate plants are larger than those of well-nourished
specimens. For example, Ximenia americana
grows in our pineland and hammocks; in the for-
mer as a low, stunted shrub where it is burnt off
in every fire, but in the latter as a slender tree
where it is protected. It has a yellow drupe, larger
on the stunted half-burnt bushes than on the well-
developed trees. However loath I am to reduce
our list of Florida palms it seems necessary to
strike this one from it.

A forest fire at night is a most impressive and
terrible sight, especially if it is fanned to fury by a
high wind. Great masses of detached flame leap to
the very tree tops. There is an incessant crackle
and popping as the palmetto leaves catch, with
now and then.a report like the firing of a gun.
The blaze rushes up the trunks of the trees, often
into their crowns. An occasional pine once
injured, though apparently healthy, may have
from a scar an ooze of pitch clear down to the base
of the stem. This the fire attacks with incon-
ceivablefury. Within the scar the wood is usually
decayed, and soon the doomed tree falls with its

180 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

green head to the blackened earth, ‘‘dying with
its boots on,” as one might say.

The fire sweeps on, now over one of the low,
rocky ridges, and is rushing through the lovely
silver palms. Their leaves are crackling like the
roll of drums but their stems withstand the on-
slaught. Although sadly disfigured they really
come through the ordeal as safely as did Shadrach
and his friends from the fiery furnace of old.

The tall dead trees are ablaze the instant the
flame touches them, and if the weather is dry they
may continue to burn for weeks, in which case they
stand as pillars of fire by night and of cloud by
day. These fires destroy nearly all the vegetable
humus on the forest floor and about all that is
left of it is some ash. The soil is thus kept very
poor and thin and to some extent this prevents the
hammock vegetation from getting a foothold.
Roland Harper and E. F. Andrews have shown
that were it not for the forest fires the long-leaved
pine (Pinus palustris) would be driven out by
other growths, and I am sure this is also true of
our Caribbean pine.

Some of the small oaks which inhabit the pine
forest would become arboreal but for the fact that

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 181

they are usually burnt off about the time they
begin to assume treehood. One of these is only a
shrub at best, as it rarely attains a height of a
couple of feet. Yet it bears fine, dark-colored
acorns sometimes three quarters of an inch in
diameter, and the crop is occasionally so heavy
that the little stem bends under the load. It is
the Quercus minima, most aptly named, and having
spiny leaves like those of holly. This species is
one of the smallest of the genus while the live oak,
common throughout our territory, becomes under
favorable circumstances our largest tree. Speci-
mens sometimes have a trunk diameter of five feet,
and one of them in the Paradise Key hammock
has a crown that measures two hundred and eight
feet across.

Among the herbaceous plants found in the pine
woods is a slender, unarmed vine so abundant in
places that it completely covers the low scrub. It
looks much like one of the dodders common through-
out the temperate parts of the United States.
Its leaves are but minute scales, its whitish flowers
are in small clusters; it grows in dense mats; it is
a parasite. The dodders have all these characters
but are unrelated to our creeper. Ours is a bo-

182 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

tanical celebrity and a veritable globe trotter. It
grows all over the warmer parts of America, Poly-
nesia, Asia, Africa, and Australia. Formerly
placed by botanists in the Laurel family, now,
perhaps on account of its notoriety, it is made the
representative of a separate group, the Cassy-
thaceze, and ours is the Cassytha filiformis. The
fruit is a sort of drupe eagerly devoured by birds,
and the hard, indigestible seeds are thus dispersed.
The whole fruit is also very buoyant, keeping its
vitality a long time in salt water, so it has two
very efficient means of distribution. Its seeds
usually fall to the earth and germinate after the
manner of ordinary seeds, and the vine itself
sometimes lives out its life as ordinary normal
vegetation does. But if any weeds or shrubs grow
near it the little Cassytha vine creeps towards
them along the ground until it can lay hold of
one of their stems and begin to twine up it. As it
does so it emits little rootlets which penetrate the
host and draw the already elaborated sap from
it; thus it changes into a true parasite, and the
main stem which connects it with the ground, now
useless, decays. The growth of the dodders takes
place in precisely the same manner.

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 183

In the higher, drier parts of the forest one
occasionally sees low, sandy mounds from one to
two feet high and ten to fifteen feet across. Fora
long time I was uncertain as to what these were,
though I felt sure they were artificial. I had seen
gopher mounds up the State which somewhat
resembled these but I was unaware that this
animal came so far south. I was also puzzled to
account for animal burrows in almost solid rock.
One day I found that I could thrust a sharpened
iron rod down four feet anywhere in one of the
mounds and, indeed, for some distance around it.
Another time I found a large dead gopher in the
pine woods near my home. This is not the animal
which bears that familiar name in our western
states but is a large land tortoise (Xerobates poly-
phemus) which has very strong forelimbs to
enable it to excavate its immense burrows.

The mystery was solved; the gopher is a resi-
dent of Dade County. Since then-I have seen its
mounds in other places in the neighborhood of
Miami and also at Cape Sable. As a rule the
limestone in this region comes to the surface and
the only sand to be found is that which fills the
pot holes. At long intervals solution has been so

184 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

great that depressions have been formed which
filled with sand at the time of the filling of the
many pot holes. It is in these ‘‘sand seeps,”’ as
they are called, that the gopher makes its home in
our rocky pinelands. But how can the creature
find these sand seeps, for to all appearances the
forest floor, covered with dense scrub, is every-
where alike? It must have the guidance of some
special sense which distinguishes between rock
and sand hidden beneath the surface.

Bartram writing of this tortoise in 1791 said:
‘When arrived at its greatest magnitude the upper
shell is near eighteen inches in length and ten or
twelve in breadth.” Mr. H. C. Hubbard has
excavated several of their burrows near Crescent
City, Florida, and finds the galleries eighteen to
twenty feet long in the sandy ridges remote from
water. They descend in a straight course at an
angle of 35°, terminating abruptly at a depth.of
eight or nine feet below the surface. He states
that after excavating several feet he found the
walls fairly alive with a wingless cricket of the genus
Ceuthophilus. Farther on he found immense
numbers of larve and imagoes of a small beetle,
and in all he obtained no less than thirteen species

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 185

of insects living with the gophers, of which seven
proved new to science. All of these are strictly
subterranean in habit; with them is sometimes
found a toad. How little do we know of the lives
of most of the wild creatures! They all have
interesting life histories, but alas! many of them
are already extinct and others soon will be.

The rocky floor of the woods is exceedingly
rough and irregular, in fact it appears in places
as though it had been dynamited in every direction.
The surface consists of loose masses of rock of all
sizes up to pieces weighing several hundred
pounds. This is mixed with a small quantity of
soil, sand, decaying wood, and other vegetable
debris; the whole, perhaps, thinly overgrown with
grass and low plants. In such a foundation the
roots of the pines can obtain at best but an inse-
cure hold, even though they begin their existence
in the depressions or pot holes. While it is not
possible to drive a tap root into the solid rock, yet
they can push their powerful laterals sidewise
through crevices in the more or less disrupted
strata. These slowly heave the rock loose, espe-
cially when aided by the high winds and hurri-
canes which sway the trees. The more the rock

186 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

is loosened the further the roots penetrate. So in.
time the tree becomes elevated on a sort of rocky
mound and as it grows old its foothold becomes
more and more insecure. The prevailing winds
in this region are from the southeast and as a con-
sequence a majority of the trees, especially near
the sea, lean more or less in a northwesterly direc-
tion and the greater part of them fall in thesame
way. In time of hurricanes they may of course
fall towards any point of the compass.

Whenever a tree falls its roots pry up a quan-
tity of rock and some soil, setting the mass on
edge.. Sometimes the bole is lifted as much as ten
feet or more and a hole is left where the roots grew.
By and by the tree decays or is consumed by fire
and nothing remains but an irregular mound and
a corresponding depression beside it. Other trees
grow up to repeat at last the mound building and
excavating process. Thus in time the floor be-
comes indescribably rough and uneven.

The trees and the storms are thus acting as a
great. plow to break up the rock and turn it over
in these rough and irregular furrows; the rains dis-
solve it, and year by year a small amount of de-:
cayed wood and humus collects in the depressions. _

Upper View. Uprooted Pine Showing Conical Mass of Roots Raised above Level
of Rocky Floor

Lower View. Uprooted Pine Showing Mass of Rock Torn up by its Roots
Both from Lower Dade Co. and Photographed by Dr. John K. Small

THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 187

Could only fire be kept from it the floor of the
piney woods would soon be covered with a thin
but rich soil and the hammock growth. would
creep in.

In some parts of the forest there are parallel
rows of young pines, the two being some five or
six feet apart and one naturally wonders how they
came to be planted in this regular fashion. In
such places a wood road formerly existed of which
no trace remains. In the middle of it the pal-
mettos and other low vegetation were probably
not entirely killed but along the wheel tracks they
were completely destroyed. The old tracks when
abandoned then became admirable seed beds for
the pines. I have seen such trees a foot in di-
ameter, still showing the row formation.

So the battle of the forest goes on year in and
year out through the long centuries, a strife
between the different types of vegetation for a
place to live and a chance to multiply. On the
other hand the fire, like a well-equipped and com-
pletely disciplined army, is the inveterate enemy,
and it is always ready to take the field at a mo-
ment’s notice.

Such are the piney forests of Lower Florida,

188 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and to him who is in harmony with nature there
is nothing more alluring in all the land. No more
attractive place for the botanist can be found, for
its floor is the meeting ground for hundreds of
small tropical plants and for many others of more
northern habit. Here are always beautiful, odd,
and interesting things in blossom and they present
a succession of rich color throughout the year.
There are many beetles, diptera, and orthopters,
while butterflies abound, especially along the
sunny borders between pineland and hammock.
During times of abundant rain immense numbers
of small land snails of several species may be found
on or under the loose rocks, or even venturing for
a short distance up the trunks of trees.

Here the forces of nature are always active;
here is life of the most virile type; here birth,
growth, death, and extermination are in constant
operation side by side. Here are some of nature’s
most wonderful devices for protection against the
constant menace of the destroyer—fire; here are
some of the clearest examples of the survival of
the fittest.

The scientific wonders of the pinelands are not
their only lure. Notwithstanding the monotony

“THE LURE OF THE PINEY WOODS 189

of the forests they possess an indefinable charm
and beauty, and over all is a wonderful and wholly
indescribable atmospheric effect—a soft, evan-
escent half haze, half glow, peculiar to Florida,
seen only at its best in the piney woods. Here the
partial shade of the pines and the brilliant glare of
the sub-tropical sun are merged and mellowed
into a softly glowing light. In every direction are
the straight, brown trunks of the trees, sharply
defined in the foreground but fading in the dis-
tance until they blend in the haze and become a
mighty brown curtain. This wonderful atmos-
pheric effect is not that of the northern smoky
Indian Summer. It is more dreamy and ethereal.
The very essence of Florida's soft and gentle cli-
mate seems to have descended upon and en-
chanted the forest scene.

CHAPTER IX

The Origin of the Hammocks

end the friend of the piney woods of Florida,

it is uncompromisingly the enemy of the

hammocks. If there were no forest fires
the dry pinelands would soon be captured and
occupied by hammock growth. I believe that no
hammock originates (in Lower Florida at least)
where there is not some real protection from forest
fires.

The word ‘‘hammock”’ is generally applied in
Florida to the forests of broad-leaved trees as dis-
tinguished from pine woods. There are several
kinds of hammock in the State; in our part we have
“high” and ‘‘low” hammocks and each may be
rocky or not. We also have ‘‘heavy”’ hammock,
consisting of tall, straight trees closely huddled
together, and ‘‘scrub,” in which the dense growth

is low and tangled. On the keys and along the
190

| F fire that sometimes destroys them is in the

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS | 191

southern edge of the mainland the vegetation of
these hammocks is mostly tropical; over the
balance of our area it is a mixture of tropical and
warm temperate growths, or almost wholly tem-
perate and warm temperate. The vegetation of
the swamps and lowlands is less tropical than that
of the corresponding uplands, probably’ because
the soil in the two former is colder.

The majority of the fruits of our hammock trees
and shrubs are either berries or drupes (plum-like).
Generally these are attractive in color and are
greatly relished by birds. In fact they constitute
for many of them their chief food, and a hammock,
in any region, always attracts great numbers of
birds. In eating the fruit they swallow the seeds
as well, which are passed out undigested and with
their vitality unimpaired. Thus they are scat-
tered broadcast in every direction—in the pine
woods, the swamps—everywhere. So, then, the
birds become horticulturists and are responsible
for the dispersal of many of our plants. Nature
has drawn. up a contract between these little
farmers and the trees. The latter must have
their seeds distributed and planted elsewhere to
maintain and spread their species and to form new

192 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

colonies, but they have no means of their own of
sending forth their seeds. So they resort to this
clever device; they cover their indigestible seeds—
which the birds would never touch—with a
coating of succulent, nutritious pulp and they
paint the dainty morsel a bright, attractive color
and then say to the birds: ‘‘If you will plant our
seeds for us off at a distance we will pay by giving
you some delicious fruit.” The offer is accepted
and the contract is faithfully carried out on both
sides.

Although the soil in the pine woods is poor and
the ground is generally covered with low vegeta-
tion, a number of hammock plants would grow in
it and become trees if they had half a chance.
Near my home, where there has been no fire for
several years, the following species of broad-leaf
trees have appeared among the pines and some of
them have reached a height of ten or twelve feet:
Ficus aurea and brevifolia, the wild figs; Trema
floridana, a short-lived tree and one of the pre-
cursors of the hammocks; Quercus virginiana, the
live oak; Dipholis salicifolia, bustic; the poison
wood, Metopium metopium; Pisonia obtusata or
blolly; Psthecolobium guadelupensis; gumbo limbo

Upper View. Very Young Hammock in Pine Woods near Residence of Author
Photo by Prof. F. G. Smith

Lower View. Young Hammock at Water Hole on Long Key, Everglades
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 193

(Bursera gummifera); marlberry (Icacorea pani-
culata); prickly ash (Zanthoxylum clava-herculis);
sweet bay (Persea borbonia); Forstiera porulosa;
Lantana involucrata, a large shrub, usually con-
fined to the hammocks, and Rapanea guianensis
or myrsine. To my surprise Ilex cassine and
Baccharis halimifolia, two shrubs or small trees
which ordinarily grow only in low ground, were
also found here. The bayberry (Myrica cerifera) is
common in low land, where it often becomes quite
atree. A form of it grows in the pine woods and
here it had reached a height of five feet. Ximenia
americana, sometimes called hog plum, grows in
both pine and hammock land; in the latter as a
small tree, in the former as a low shrub. Here it
was six feet high.

The new hammock growth here is so dense that
one entering it is at once concealed and lost to
view. This demonstrates well enough that the
poor thin soil of the pine woods is able to support
hammock trees and also that there is no lack of
planting. Usually the more abundant and vigor-
ous hammock growth is on the rocky ridges and
not on thelevelland. The ridges are freer of other

growth and offer more room, and fires are less
8

194 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

severe upon them. Everywhere the Pithecolo-
bium is by far the most abundant shrub in the
incipient hammock, and the live oak is perhaps a
close second. A thorny shrub belonging to the
coffee family, Randia aculeata, having small,
glossy leaves and pretty white flowers, is very
abundant on the rocky ridges where young ham-
mock is forming and in the old-established forest
south of Miami it becomes a genuine tree. I have
seen a number of other examples where hammocks
began to develop in pine woods less subject to fire.

On islands, where the fire risk reaches the
minimum, hammock growth usually takes undis-
puted possession. This is equally the case on
peninsulas. Throughout much of the territory
from Miami southward the floor of the pine woods
is of that exceedingly irregular, ragged limestone
already described and upon it the hammock growth
is forever seeking lodgment but the fire is sure to
come sooner or later. These incipient hammocks
in such exposed, thin-soiled regions never progress
beyond the stage of dwarfed shrubs.

Near the extreme lower end of the mainland the
rocky surface is elevated only two or three feet
above ordinary high tide. Everywhere are count-

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 195

less water holes and shallow pits that either con-
tain water or are always moist. Over much of
this area hammock vegetation’ has taken a firm
hold and though not exempt from occasional fire
toll, yet by reason of the moisture and the partial
protection of the surrounding rocks it is never
wholly destroyed. Here is a list of the more
abundant trees and shrubs found in this low,
rocky pineland.

Annona glabra, pond apple.

Chrysobalanus, coco plum, two species.
*Trema floridana.

Diospyros, sp. persimmon.

*Quercus virginiana, live oak.
*Metopium metopium, poison tree.

Bursera gummifera, gumbo limbo.

Ficus aurea, wild fig, strangler.

Cephalanthus occidentalis, button bush.
*Callicarpa americana, French mulberry.
*Icacorea paniculata, marlberry.
*Myrsine rapanea, myrsine.

Persea palustris, sweet bay.

Ilex cassine, yaupon.

Ilex krugiana, holly.

196 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Guettardia elliptica, velvet seed.
*Guetiardia scabra, rough velvet seed.
*Myrica cerifera, bayberry, wax myrtle.
*Byrsonoma lucida, locust berry.
*Tetrazygia bicolor.

Those marked with an asterisk are the pioneers
or precursors of the hammocks and indicate the
trees and shrubs which originally start the forest,
and also that live on their outskirts and accept the
brunt of battles with the fire.

A good many hammocks originate on the bay
shores, along the open sea, by streams, ponds, and
swamps. Most of the others develop beside the
deeper limestone sinks in the pine forest.

I have already described the sandy and rocky
ridge lying near the southeast coast of the State,
and how near Florida City it turns to the west-
ward and is broken into a long chain of ‘‘islands.”
In the lower part of this ridge are numerous sinks,
or ‘‘banana holes”’ as they are locally called, that
vary in size from an ordinary pot hole to a quarter
of an acre in extent; they may be partly filled with
standing water. In the pineland these sinks are
surrounded by rank, coarse herbage and it is

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS | 197

among these moist depressions that young ham-
mocks are developed. They range from a few
lonely struggling trees and shrubs to very
respectable forests of several hundred acres. It is
the best place for studying hammock development,
for here may be clearly seen every step of its
growth from the very start to the completed and
finished forest.

The banks of the ‘‘banana” holes or sinks may
be steep, or sloping and on these damp walls
herbaceous vegetation grows lushly and by its
decay gradually forms a little soil. This prepares
the way and thereon the hammock usually begins
its career; the first to grow and become a real tree
is generally a live oak.

This tree is the Achilles of the hammocks. It is
found always in the very front of the firing line, a
determined and courageous fighter. Its small
acorns must be carried by forest animals and in
the beaks of birds, for they are perfectly digest-
ible. One of these reaching the sloping bank of a
sink and finding some soil at once germinates.
The steep wall of the water hole partly shields it
from the fiery implacable enemy. One of the
most rapid growers among our native trees, if

198 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

spared a few years from fire it reaches a height of
several feet and displays a goodly spread of
branches. At this stage of its growth a fire will
scorch or may destroy its top, but it is not likely to
kill it outright. Although crippled and handi-
capped it continues to grow and in time its foliage
begins to shade the ground. This shade is the
first blow against the pines the hammock seeks to
supplant. It is as deadly to the pines as the Upas
tree to the forests of Java. Now these oaks have
low, rounded heads and the limbs reach close to
the ground. A tree in the pineland near me about
thirteen years old has a trunk twenty inches in
diameter and a low, dense crown fifty feet across.
Such trees cast a deep shade and prevent the light-
loving young pines from getting a start; they also
rob the soil of its substance, making it difficult for
any other vegetation to grow beside them.

This oak must be a veritable salamander, for it
emerges almost unscathed from fires which would
destroy any ordinary tree. Even its leaves are
nearly fireproof. When they fall they lie flat on
the ground and the strongest heat will scarcely
singe them.

In the meantime another oak or two has likely

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 199

made a good start which with some lesser vege-
tation aids in the fight for the conquest of the pine
forest. Trema floridana, descendant of a closely
related West Indian species, soon appears on the
scene. It is asmall, soft-wooded tree with orange-
colored berries, which are relished by birds, is of no
account whatever and appears to be just the thing
to burn, which it often does. It has, however, its
part to play, for growing thickly and rapidly it
overcomes and kills the palmetto scrub and other
low vegetation opposing the hammock extension,
Then comes the poison tree (Metopium) and a
right good fire fighter it is. Myrsine and marlberry
arrive and become abundant in the expanding
young forest. They grow close together and
shade the ground.

Given now a few years with no bad fire to
cripple it our fledgling hammock will have pushed
rapidly out into the pine forest. The pines do
not flourish in the hammock; they retire before it
as does the Indian before the white man. When
I came to my home sixteen years ago a solitary
slender pine grew in my hammock. It is still
alive, but although I have cleared away around
it, it does not grow and it is not healthy. Occa:

200 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

sionally one does see fine pines within a hammock
but it may be taken as an indication that the
hammock is spreading rapidly. Once it is estab-
lished it relentlessly chokes out the young pines,
even if their seeds do germinate in it, for of all
trees they must have abundant room and direct
sunlight in order to flourish.

After the pioneers are well fixed and strong and
the ground has become more shaded and a thin
soil of leaf mold is forming, then new types of
hammock trees enter. The gumbo limbo (Bur-
sera) is one of these second migrants and so are
some of the Eugenias or ‘‘stopper’’ trees and a
number of others. The saw palmetto in the way
of advance is soon killed and the curious dwarf
Sabal already described as so common in the pine
woods, now captured and surrounded by the ad-
vancing hammock, develops into the true cabbage
palm and in its congenial station reaches a height
of forty or fifty feet. It is a royal good fire fighter
too and a valuable ally—although a traitor. Here
is a case of a soldier who fought bravely with the
enemy but who, now a prisoner, turns about and
fights as valiantly against his former comrades.
Ferns and Bormeliads next establish themselves

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 201

on the trees and the young forest begins to take
on the appearance of a fullfledged hammock.

I believe that under favorable conditions the
hammocks develop very rapidly. Partly sur-
rounding a sink on Long Key, in the Lower Ever-
glades, is a young hammock of about an acre in
extent, consisting mostly of live oaks. On the
bank of the central water hole a dozen pine trees
formerly stood—trees which had probably com-
pleted their growth before the hammock started,
and which were doubtless killed by the incoming
live oaks. They had finally fallen with their
heads dipping into the water. At the time of my
first visit to this place the bark and sapwood of
these pines were completely decayed, but the
heartwood was sound. The fact gives a clew—
or even the positive evidence of the age of this
hammock. It could not have been over fifty
years, probably less than half that.

At the time of my first visit to this young ham-
mock, my neighbor, John Soar, Wilson Popenoe,
of the Department of Agriculture, and I took a
two days’ tramp over Long Key to botanize and
explore. We left our impedimenta on the bank of
the pool where we intended to camp. When night

202 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

fell, we gathered some dead pine wood,—“‘light-
wood” or ‘‘lightered”’ as it is called—and built a
fine fire. After a cold supper and some yarns we
tried to rest. The mosquitoes were bad; the sharp
uneven rock like Banquo’s ghost murdered sleep.
The sky was overcast, the wind southwest, and we
realized a norther was coming.

With a good deal of badinage about adjusting
ourselves to our rocky beds and regarding the
friendliness of the insects, we finally rolled into
our blankets but not tosleep. The wind suddenly
whipped into the northwest and a cold, steady
rain began to fall. Soaked through, but with our
blankets wrapped about us, we sat around our
weakening fire and ‘‘made a night of it.” Soar,
who is an old settler, told delightful stories of early
days in Lower Florida and of many trips such as
we were now taking. Popenoe, though only a
boy, is a globe trotter and regaled us with remin-
iscences of adventures in Brazil, in India, and in
Guatemala, and the old man attempted to con-
tribute his quota to the general fund. Congenial
men can draw very near to each other under such
circumstances, and although we were cold, wet,
and half devoured by mosquitoes, though our

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 203

environment was the dreariest imaginable, the
memory of that night at the little hammock is
one of my very pleasantest.

As soon as the trees and shrubs in the embryo
hammock begin to bear seed, its growth is greatly
accelerated. The open spaces fill. The borders
advance. Ordinarily the fires in the pine woods
expire at the edge of the hammock, or only burn a
little way into the scrubby, more open parts of it.
The wood and leaves contain very little resin or
other highly inflammable material. But some
day during a long, severe drought and when
driven by a high wind, the ravening enemy comes
rushing through the pine woods resistless. The
natural moisture of the hammock is dried out, the
leaves are wilted and gasping for water, the dead
timber, standing and fallen, is like tinder. The
flames rush into the forest almost unchecked,
snapping and roaring their battle cry. Noble
trees clad in garments of glorious foliage are
stripped in a moment and left mere blackened
and ruined trunks; all the wonderful decoration of
orchids, ferns, bromeliads, and scrambling vines is
devoured in the twinkling of an eye. No words
can describe the awful wreck; there is in all the

204 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

world no more sudden and terrible change from
beauty ‘to hideousness than is this. If the leaf
mold which forms the forest floor becomes ignited
and burns to the rock below, then indeed the
rout is complete and all is killed. If not, then the
paralyzed, prostrate victims may recover.

Enter this ruined forest two months later and
green, fresh leaves and young growth will be peep-
ing out in many places. Even some apparently
dead trunks will be thrusting forth new foliage
and branches. In one season the hammock
begins to regain some of its lost beauty, although
the cruel fire marks are still there. New Brome-
liads and other epiphytes will be found on the
dead trees; vines will scramble over the charred
trunks, in places well nigh screening their ugliness
from sight. In ten years the ground will be fully
covered with growth and the uninitiated would
not suspect that fire had ever ravaged the spot.
So the struggle goes on year after year and age
after age between the vegetative forces and the
fire, but I am inclined to believe that before the
advent of the white man the hammocks were getting
the best of it.

In places along the fire-swept edges of the ham-

View on Paradise Key; Royal Palm Hammock
Photo by Harrison’s Studio, Miami

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 205

mock the broad-leaved growth has been entirely
exterminated, and one can only know it for an
ancient hammock site by the presence of half
burned or decayed logs, or by broken fragments
of the tree snails scattered on the surface or
buried in the ground. Rarely a small hammock
may be found on high land which has no sink
or depression as a nucleus, but the few I have
seen were near other larger hammocks and doubt-
less had been cut off from them by fire. The
damp hammock sinks instead of being overgrown
with coarse vegetation, as in the open pine woods,
are made ravishingly beautiful by the ferns and
other shade and moisture loving plants that
occupy them. No words that I can summon
will properly describe the wonderful effect pro-
duced by these fern gardens. The ferns often
scramble up the tree trunks, covering them with a
delicate mat to a height of several feet. Here is
found the only tree fern of the United States,
Dryopteris ampla, with richly cut fronds spread
over a space of a dozen feet and supported on stout
trunks two feet high. The walls of the larger
sinks are often covered with elegant halberd ferns
and from among them spring immense tufts of

206: IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

maidenhair which droop over the pools with won-
derful grace. There are also a fine holly fern;
several strap ferns on the decaying logs, grass and
serpent ferns on the cabbage palmettos and the
resurrection fern that clothes the leaning trunks
and branches of the live oaks. But the real glory
of the hammock is the two species of Nephrolepis,
one being the well-known ‘‘Boston” fern. These
are often found on trees, especially the palmetto,
but they also grow over the floor of the forest form-
ing masses higher than a man’s head and some-
times so dense that one may walk over them.
The fronds of one of these measured over twenty-
seven feet in length!

In many places young hammock grows on ground
so rocky that the trees cannot obtain a secure foot-
hold, hence they are often overthrown by storms.
Some of them seem to be but little inconvenienced
by this. The sound roots continue to act as before
while the prostrate trunk sends up new growth.
Thenext storm may again overturn the whole affair
and the process of growth is again readjusted. I
have seen live oaks that have been overthrown four
times, the trunks being split and twisted half way
around, yet no apparent damage had resulted.

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B WH yng JoyywamM Arq uy dn sjearyg pue UMOIg SUN], UJeq STU] “YeO Jo HUNIL, peaq uo saprorpodAjoo wnypodAjog

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 207

I have called the live oak our stateliest tree, the
Achilles of the hammocks, and like that hero it
has a vulnerable spot. When it has finished its
pioneer work, and the floor of the forest has be-
come a deep bed of leaf mold; when there is no
longer danger that the center of the forest will
be devastated by fire, a final immigration of
strictly tropical trees arrives. These last arrivals
cannot live in the fire zone and can only grow in
rich soil and in the dampness and protection from
cold afforded by the completed forest. Like most
of the tropical emigrants they have lived for count-
less generations in the Torrid Zone; they and
their ancestors have struggled for light, for food,
and for a place to live in denser forests than these
and where the battle for life never ceases a second
in the year. They have become fighters from
necessity; their forbears were warriors of cun-
ning and strength, and they have inherited the
instinct of aggressiveness.

The young trees of these later migrants can
flourish in more crowded situations and where
there is less light than can the natives of the warm
temperate regions. The ground in a tropical
forest is an almost solid mass of roots which are

208 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

fighting desperately for moisture and plant food.
Those of the West Indian trees are better fitted for
obtaining a share in such forests than are the oak
roots, or those of the red bays, the persimmon, or
prickly ash of our Southern States. It is for this
that the latter invariably give way before the
former—the trained soldiers of the tropics. One
will find hundreds of seedlings and young trees
of tropical species in the midst of old and estab-
lished hammocks, but it is rare indeed to en-
counter a young live oak or sweet bay in like
situation, but if he does he may be sure it is
doomed to early death.

But the especial enemy of the live oak is our
common strangler, Ficus aurea, an account of
which is given in the chapter on the survival of the
fittest. In any large hammock a number of these
old patriarchs may be seen enfolded in the stifling
embrace of this terrible Ficus. This, then, is the
arrow that reaches the heel of our hammock
Achilles. Whenever in the dim, crowded forest
one of these monarch oaks dies of old age or stran-
gulation no other comes to take its place. It is
one of the injustices of nature that this noble tree
which has fought the fire with matchless courage

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAMMOCKS 209

and gone forward as a pioneer to establish the
forest should at last be dispossessed by other trees
whose very existence it has made possible.

The finished hammock forest consists almost
entirely of tall, straight, closely set trees of
tropical origin. They stand erect as soldiers on
parade; their dense, leafy tops shut out nearly
all the rays of the sun. For this reason but few
epiphytes grow. This part of the forest is grand
and gloomy; but it is not so picturesque or lively
as is the younger stage.

These are ‘‘The Hammocks, Florida’s one
unique, priceless heritage,” as Prof. W. H. Henry
has beautifully expressed it. They should be
cherished for their beauty and for the rare
vegetation they contain. Once destroyed they
can never be replaced quite as nature has made
them, and Florida would be despoiled for all time

of one of her most important attractions.
14

CHAPTER X

In the Primeval Forest

N another chapter I have traced the develop-
ment of the hammock from a single live oak
beside a sink or swamp to the tall, solidly
grown tropical forest. Prominent among such

Florida forests is, or rather was, the great Miami
hammock. Formerly it stretched for miles along
the shore of Biscayne Bay, occupying most of the
site of what is now the city, and extended half a
mile inland. On account of the encroachment of
this flourishing settlement much of it has been
destroyed and only a remnant of its former beauty
and stateliness remains. .

It occupies what is probably the highest ground
of any part of southeastern Florida and some of it
was probably the first to be lifted above the sea
after the great Pleistocene subsidence. It is quite
certain that when the forest covering this site

began to develop, the outer peninsula ending in
210

Views in Brickell Hammock, Miami, Illustrating Dense Tropical Growth in
Primeval Forest. Lower View along Old Road
Both by Prof. F. G. Smith

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 211

Cape Florida did not exist, and the Upper Keys
were only a low, coral reef; at any rate it was the
shore line open to the sea over which seeds of
tropical trees and plants were drifted to it. I
have no doubt this is the oldest hammock in the
lower part of the State, and long before the white
man began his work of destruction it contained
over a hundred species of trees and large shrubs.
Here were, at least, two species of fine tropical
trees which have never been found elsewhere
within the limits of the United States, one a mem-
ber of the laurel family (Misantica triandra) and
one of the soap berries (Talesia pedicillaris).

Long ago a part of the hammock in the vicinity
of the ‘‘Punch Bowl”’ (a curious depression in the
rock near the shore) was cleared, planted, and after-
wards abandoned. This cleared portion grew up
with second growth which attained considerable
size. Only a part of the original forest still stands
and it is probable that most of that will soon be
destroyed. Let us enter it now before it is too
late to observe, study, and wonder; to be filled with
reverence at sight of so magnificent a growth; for
like an old Greek or Roman temple it is stately
and beautiful, even as a ruin.

212 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

The border of the forest is almost everywhere a
dense scrub, consisting of low-grown live oaks,
red bay, cabbage palmetto, the common sumac
(Rhus obtusifolia), prickly ash (Zanthoxylum),
Trema, French mulberry (Callicarpa americana),
wild coral tree (Erythrina arborea) and one or two
species of lantanas. There are several vines in
the border thicket, some unpleasantly thorny, and
among them are species of smilax and of the
unpleasant Pisonia, so it is very difficult to pene-
trate the inhospitable tangle.

The floor at the border of the forest is rocky and
uneven, there being but little sand and leaf mold
in the depressions. In this the trees get but a
poor hold and when overturned by a storm they
tear up the limestone much as do the trees in the
pineland. As we go farther into the wood we find
an increasing number of tropical trees and a
decreasing proportion of the warm temperate
forms; the growth becomes taller, straighter, and
closer.

In the newer and more open part of the forest
epiphytes are most abundant; with most favorable
conditions they burden the trees almost to the
breaking point. In South Florida there are

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 213

known to be about twenty-two species of native,
epiphytal orchids, but most of them have little
claim to beauty; a few only are really ornamental.
One of these (Cyrtopodium punctatum) is so re-
markable that it deserves especial notice. It
grows on trees in the littoral, or in the high ham-
mock, though it favors the former. The roots of
most epiphytal orchids cling to the bark of the
tree on which they grow, often following along
the crevices in the bark and probably finding a
little plant food in them. Those of the Cyrto-
podium attach themselves to the bark and then
suddenly turn upward and outward after the
manner of the ex-Kaiser’s mustache. Thus they
form a sort of basket to catch every leaf, dead
twig, insect, and whatever else may happen along.
When these decay they fertilize the plant. Some
of these orchids become very large, having dozens
of stout, fusiform stems or pseudo bulbs, bearing
broad, attractive leaves, and the ‘‘basket”” may
hold a bushel. The flower stems, bracts, and
rather large blossoms are greenish yellow, blotched,
and irregularly striped with brown. When the
hundreds of blossoms open it is a splendid sight.
Several other species of orchids perch on the trees

214 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

along with a great variety of Tillandsias or air
pines—‘‘poor relations of the pineapple” as
Bradford Torrey aptly called them. The strange
effect of so many air plants is often heightened, by
a drapery of Spanish moss which hangs in long,
weird streamers. With these epiphytes is asso-
ciated a Catopsis and along the horizontal or lean-
ing stems of the live oaks is a lovely Peperomia, a
closely clinging creeper with thick, obovate leaves
and rat-tail spikes of greenish flowers. It is one
of only four members of the pepper family’ grow-
ing in Lower Florida.

This part of the forest is a veritable fern garden.
Along the trunks of the live oaks the exquisite
resurrection fern (Polypodium polypodioides) with
its delicately cut fronds forms solid mats, which
awaken into growth and beauty with the coming
of rain and turn brown and desolate when the
weather is dry. Among the palmetto boots is the
large serpent fern, so called because its knotted
rootstocks resemble the twisted bodies of snakes.
There are long tufts of grass ferns on the palm
which sometimes droop five or six feet and are
then striking objects. Here also is one of the most
attractive plants in the forest (Campyloneurum

Densely Crowded, Straight Trees in Brickell Hammock, Miami.
Note White Smooth Trunks
Photo by Prof. F. G. Smith

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 215

phylliditis) with long, graceful fronds growing on
decaying logs, and on the ground—the lovely sword
ferns. There are many others too numerous for
special mention.

We may enter a road cut long ago through the
forest and follow it until it becomes a veritable
tunnel, the top and sides of which are formed by
the tall, closely set trees. We are now in the
primeval forest and on either side of us is a solid
wall of vegetation towering up sixty or seventy
feet. The sight to me is always an inspiring one
and it fills me with a vague sense of fear. The
trees are not so large as some of northern forests,
but they are tall, straight, and huddled together,
and are interwoven above in an inextricable tangle.
Overhead the sky is almost wholly shut out by the
dense canopy of foliage and though it is midday
outside it is evening within, in places almost night.
The character of this forest is very different from
that of its own borders or from that of most ham-
mocks of Lower Florida. This forest is quite open
below, having but little undergrowth on account
of the darkness, and there are almost no vines
or sprawlers. Within a radius of fifty feet one
may find as many species of trees and large

216 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

shrubs, and all are tropical. In fact there are
as many different kinds of trees within an acre
of this forest as grow wild in any state of the
Union wholly north ‘of the fortieth parallel of
latitude.

As I have said there is only a limited amount of
growth on the floor of the forest. No matter how
perfectly a plant may be adapted to living in the
shade it is necessary that it should have some
light, and over much of this forest floor the sun
never shines. The birds, the insects, the foliage,
and blossoms—all life—are up in the tree tops in
the glorious sunlight. Even butterflies are rarely
seen, however common in more open places. A
few large arboreal snails (Liguus) live on the tree
trunks or shrubs, but even they are far more abun-
dant in the more open sunlit parts of the jungle.
That they are plentiful high up in the tree tops
where they are exposed to the light is proven by
the large number of dead shells, or ‘‘bones” as
collectors call them, scattered over the floor of the
hammock. As Kingsley has said of a similar
forest in the Island of Trinidad: ‘‘You are in the
empty nave of the cathedral and the service is
being celebrated aloft in the blazing roof.”

Cutler Hammock

” Tree (Bursera gummifera) in

bo
Estate)

Immense ‘‘Gumbo Lim

Said to be One of the Trees
f the Druggists and This

It is

Which Produces Gum Ele

ing

(Charles Deer

mi 0

One

ion of the Native
penoe

Name may be a Corrupt:

Photo by Wilson Po

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 217

What are the trees which compose this forest?
You cannot so easily tell because the foliage is far
above your head and it is too dark to distinguish
it. Occasionally a limb hangs down so that one
can observe its leaves but barring this an expert
botanist, familiar with all this growth cannot
positively determine the trees by their trunks
alone. From the road or a cleared spot you will
likely see a very large tree, somewhat crooked
and with smooth trunk of a rich coppery color;
the leaves glossy. This is a gumbo limbo
(Bursera gummifera), the most striking object in
all the hammock. Even the dullest or most indif-
ferent tourist looks at and asks what it is. Its
outer bark peels off in thin paper layers like that
of the birches, hence it is sometimes called ‘‘West
Indian Birch.’ It belongs to a family rich in
balsams and it is said to be one of the trees which
furnishes the gum elemi of the druggists. Another
tree, the satinleaf (Chrysophyllum oliveforme), with
intense, metallic green, glossy leaves, the under
surfaces of which are covered with brownish golden
hairs, is thrust out into the open where we can
readily observe it. These hairs are closely ap-
pressed and when the wind turns the leaves they

218 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

flash like golden satin, and glow with a sort of
radiance or sheen.

There are the mastic and the poison tree, the
latter a cousin of our northern poison ivy, there
are—hog plum, pigeon plum, darling plum, and two
species of coco ‘“‘plums.’’ The lovely paradise
tree will be seen with its long, handsome
pinnate leaves shining as though freshly varnished.
Every part of it is intensely bitter and it is prob-
ably one of the trees that furnishes quassia chips.
Here is the wild lime and its near relative the
“‘toothache”’ tree, with bark and leaves acrid
enough to cause or cure—anything. There is the
locustberry, which may be either a shrub or a tree,
bearing daintily beautiful blossoms, and the soap-
berry, the fruit of which when macerated in water
produces a lather with all the qualities of soap.
There are ironwood, lancewood, fiddlewood, ink-
wood, white-wood, yellow-wood, torchwood, and
the beautifully variegated crabwood, used to make
canes and various ornaments. The torchwood is
so filled with resin that it is used for torches; it
may also be a source of gum elemi, as its specific
name elemifera would indicate. There are also dog-
wood, naked wood and, in the vicinity of the

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 219

shore, buttonwood. There are a half dozen dif-
ferent stopper trees, members of the myrtle family,
and all handsome evergreens. In places the cala-
bash tree is common with fruits as large as a small
coconut but these cannot be used for household
utensils as are the fruits of its West Indian relative.
Occasionally one finds the strongback, so named,
no doubt, on account of its hard durable wood;
and now and then one sees the lovely glossy-
leaved West Indian cherry and the equally hand-
some papaw.

I do not give the scientific names of most of
these since they would add more of confusion
and complication than of valuable information.
Although there are several trees in the northern
states which have the same common names as
some of these, yet none of them is identical or
even botanically related. Almost all of the trees
I have.enumerated have common names in the
Bahamas and West Indies and the natives dis-
tinguish one from another with the skill and
certainty of a trained botanist, and they also
understand something of their medicinal and
other qualities. A northern botanist unfamiliar with
this tropic flora would be completely bewildered

220 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and unable to refer a half dozen of the trees to
their genera or families. What of the medicinal
and useful properties of these many species of
trees, what part do they play in the economy of
the forest? Where and when did each one first
land and become established on our shores—and
whence; what changes have taken place among
them since they first arrived? Science knows but
little of them. The most ignorant Bahama Negro
can tell more about them than can the ablest
botanist. Verily the forest is full of unanswered
questions!

I have said that the older part of this forest is
wholly tropical but I must slightly modify this
statement. Here in the very densest and oldest
part of it is a northern tree, the common red mul-
berry (Morus rubra) which seems to be as much at
home as any of the tropical immigrants. These
Antillean trees, as I have explained, drive out*all
the temperate and warm temperate growth; why,
then, this exception? This was long a puzzle to me
and I am not so sure that I have yet solvedit. The
mulberry is a member of the Moracez, a family
including the breadfruit and belonging mostly to
the tropics; it has only a few outliers in temperate

Dense Tangle of Tropical Vines in Cutler Hammock, Estate of Charles
Deering
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 221

regions. Now this particular tree is well adapted
to living under a great variety of conditions, for
even in this locality it grows in brackish and
fresh-water swamps, in all kinds of hammock,
and out into the borders of the pineland. The
ancestors of this tree probably lived in the
tropics and one of them migrated into colder
regions and became inured to a more rigorous
climate. Our mulberry possibly inherits all the
courage and fighting instincts, if I may so ex-
press it, of its forbears and relatives of the Torrid
Zone.

The distribution of this tree is very extensive
and somewhat peculiar. It occurs from Texas to
Eastern Nebraska, eastward through Michigan,
Ontario, and Western Massachusetts, south to
Cape Romano and Biscayne Bay, occupying al-
most the entire eastern part of the United States.
It is not known from extreme Lower Florida or
the keys. One may reasonably suppose that the
line of its migration is from the highlands of
Mexico through the southwestern states, into the
far north and east and southward into the lower
part of the Florida Peninsula. Is it another
Prodigal Son who, after leaving the parental roof

222 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and wandering far and wide, is seeking to return
to the home of his father?

It will be noticed that most of the leaves of this
forest are rather small, that they are entire (hav-
ing no serrations or lobes), that they are of firm,
thick texture and are usually glossy above. In
all these particulars they differ decidedly from the
leaves of the northern woods. In cooler regions
of the Temperate Zone the trees have what might
be called ‘‘hurry-up leaves.’’ During half the
year the weather is too cold for vegetable growth
and as a consequence there is a complete rest
among plants. The warm spring starts the sap
to moving, but there is only a brief season for
growth and the preparation for another winter.
The proper kind of leaf for such conditions is thin,
with roughened surfaces and irregular edges—
one exposing the greatest possible amount of sur-
face to the air and light. And it is just such
leaves we see in the northern forests. Practically
all the growth of northern deciduous trees is made
in six weeks, and during this brief time the leaves
are rushing the crude sap up from the roots and
exposing it to the sun for the necessary process of
elaboration, so that it may be returned in proper

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 223

condition to form the wood of the tree. There is
no time to waste, for cold weather follows quickly
and the wood must be hardened and the buds
completed before winter.

In the tropics conditions are very different.
The summer is the period of growth, as in the
Temperate Zone, and during the balance of the
year most of the vegetation is more or less dor-
mant, also as in the temperate regions. But
there is no cold weather in the tropics and a large
proportion of the trees retain their leaves through-
out the year; in other words, they have persistent
foliage. The leaves, then, must do duty for sev-
eral years and they must be made to last and
stand hard service. Having to endure long dry
seasons, they are usually rather small, their upper
surfaces are smooth and glossy, their substance is
thick and leathery, their edges are entire. In dry
weather they close their pores, and probably add
a little to the coat of varnish on the upper sur-
faces; then they practically cease all functions.
They do finally grow old and wear out, falling
most abundantly during the seasonal rains. One
reason they are so hard and glossy is to resist the
constant attacks of insects.

224 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

In Lower Florida a few of the temperate and
warm temperate trees shed their leaves in the
fall, and in the late winter or early spring put on
new ones. The willows often leave out and bloom
in January and the mulberry dons its bright green
new garments a little later. The live oaks and
bay trees awake in February, casting off the old,
as they acquire the new leaves. The gumbo
limbo and poison tree may lose their leaves through
the winter, and if the weather is cold the dogwood
does also. However, most of the tropical trees
pay no heed to the increasing heat of spring; they
merely stand and soak in the sunshine and warmth
but make no attempt to grow. In Lower Florida
the rains usually begin the latter part of May or
early in June and at once the tropical forest
awakens to great activity. The leaves of most of
its trees suddenly become dingy and fall—they
seem to be pushed off by the rapidly growing new
ones. Soon the change of clothes is made and the
forest is splendid.in its fresh mantle of rich young
foliage, of many shades of reddish brown or vivid
green. The floor of the hammock is thick with
dead leaves which rustle under foot as in a northern
November. On the ground autumn has taken

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST _ 225

full possession, while aloft in the tree tops spring
has begun her joyous reign. In the late winter
there may be another revival—a sort of secondary
spring and autumn combination, especially if the
weather changes from cold to continued warmth
and rain is abundant.

In the tropics the new foliage is often renewed
with remarkable suddenness. I remember during
a winter spent in Spanish Honduras some fine
large Ficus trees which I greatly admired on
account of their glossy, dark green leaves. One
morning I noticed they were turning yellow, by
the next day brown, and I became alarmed, think-
ing the trees were dying. The third day nearly
all the leaves had fallen while pale new ones were
appearing. A week later the trees were newly
clothed with full-grown foliage. For years I
could not understand the reason for this strange
performance but finally in Rodway’s In the Guiana
Forest I read the explanation of the mystery.

The air in dense tropical forests is always more
or less moist and growth may take place at any
favorable opportunity. In the fearful struggle
for light, space, and food, if an opening be made

by the falling of a tree, the other trees round
15

226 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

about immediately send new branches into it and
in no time the space is filled with fresh growth.
It is evident that if any tree remained bare of
foliage for long its neighbors would steal its hard-
earned place in the blessed light and it would
perish. Although the forest around these particular
Ficus in Honduras had been cut away, and no
necessity existed for a hurry change of clothes,
yet these trees from force of habit did what their
ancestors had done for countless generations.
They took no chances.

The Lower Florida winter climate is colder than
in the tropics and little tree growth is made during
the cool, dry part of the year. Consequently
haste is not so necessary in renewal of leaves.
Thus the mulberry remains leafless from fall
until spring. But the Ficus and some others
retain the instinct of their forefathers and remain
bare but a short time. :

The air roots of Ficus aurea (and sometimes their
branches) become fused together when they long
remain pressed in contact. Cases of natural
inarching, that is, uniting together two branches
in a longitudinal union, are very unusual. In my
own hammock a pigeon plum (Coccolobis floridana)

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 227

has furnished an interesting example and I puzzled
a good deal over it. I could understand how two
limbs growing side by side and becoming chafed
might start to unite their abraided surfaces, but
in a windy region how could they be held together
for the several months necessary to complete the
process? The slightest move of either branch
would break the incipient union. One day there
came to my hammock a man who had spent many
years in the tropics and is a born naturalist.
Examining the queer inarch he said: ‘‘I think I
know. After the bark of these limbs was abraided
a twining vine grew around them, binding the two
parts so firmly together they couldn’t move, and
since the union the vine has died.” Then I
wondered at my own stupidity.

A striking feature of these great forests is the
vines—‘‘lianes,”’ ‘‘sipos,”’ or ‘‘bushropes” as they
are variously called in the tropics. In places they
reach the upper limits of the tree tops and project
down again. Sometimes they are drawn taut and
again they hang in loops or festoons, or they coil
about in dense masses, and crawl over the ground
like endless serpents. Usually the visible parts of
the stems are wholly naked, for they are mere water

228 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

pipes which carry sap to the foliage up out of
sight on the roof of the forest. One wonders how
they have managed to climb to the tree tops, as they
are usually swung entirely clear of any support in
their lower parts. These hanging lianes simply
rest on the limbs fifty or sixty feet above the floor
of the forest. A few of them are sprawlers, as the
pull- and haul-back (Pisonia aculeata), and these
crawl and slide upward as they grow over shrub-
bery and the lower branches of trees. The method
is different with the ordinary climbers which
ascend by attaching themselves to anything by
means of their tendrils. On some of the Florida
Keys and at Paradise Key in the Everglades
a Hippocratea (H. volubilis) is very abundant.
This giant tropical vine sends out a pair of
tendrils at each joint which tightly clasp any other
vine or tree up which it proceeds to climb. Often
the union of the support and supported is so close
that the two stems seem as one and it needs care-
ful inspection to distinguish them apart. Each
tendril bears three leaves at its extremity and after
the vine has reached the top of the tree both ten-
drils and leaves drop off, allowing the stem to
swing free. We have a Cissus and two other

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST 229

grapes which sometimes form bushropes, and also
our common northern woodbine, which climbs
by adventive roots. There are also several others.

When these have reached the light and air of the
forest canopy they are no longer concerned about
their means of ascent. Their upper parts once
secure among the topmost branches, the tendrils,
no longer needed, decay and the unfastened stems
hang in all manner of picturesque and fantastic
attitudes. The young aspiring vines need less
light than most vegetation.

The building of a ship, of a house, or of any other
monument of man is invariably accompanied by
incessant noise. In this busy workshop of the
forest amid the most intense creative activity
there is an oppressive silence and no visible mo-
tion. Nature’s machinery operates so smoothly
the entire forest might as well be dead for all that
one may see or hear of the work going on.

Unless especially gifted in a sense of direction
one is in danger of getting lost in these jungles for
it is very difficult to locate the sun, however
brightly it may be shining without. Notwith-
standing the great variety of vegetation, the
forest is after all very monotonous and, to an

230 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

unpracticed eye, every part looks exactly alike.
Even with a compass I find it necessary to be
watchful whenever I venture alone into the great
forests; one constantly encounters the obstruc-
tions of fallen timber or tangled vines to prevent
a straight course.

How old are the primeval forests of Lower
Florida? It is impossible to guess even within
centuries. At the farthest limit none can possibly
be older than the latter part of the Pleistocene,
and, geologically speaking of course, that epoch
only began yesterday; it marked the falling of the
curtain upon the great drama of the physical
world’s past history. Since the close of the Pleis-
tocene, conditions on the earth have been essen-
tially as they are now and geologists call this brief
period ‘‘the Recent.” It is, then, within this last
flicker of cosmic time these hammocks began to
develop. When we talk of age in terms of the
calendar we speak another language and we must
also employ quite different standards of com-
parison.

The new outer parts of the forest are less than a
century old; some of it is much less. The live
oaks, those patriarchs of the forest, date much

IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST — 231

farther back—some of them doubtless are sev-
eral hundred years old. The exclusively tropical
parts of the forests are very much older. It has
required much time for sufficient leaf mold to
accumulate to prepare the way for these fastidious
warriors. This could only begin after the ham-
mock was dense enough to repel the fires that for
ages crippled them. This mold is sometimes two
or more feet deep. The age, then, of this finished
forest must be reckoned not by centuries but by
milleniums.

But an enemy has arrived, against which the
hammocks have no defense, and this is civilized
man. The farmer tempted by their rich soil has
attacked them with fire and axe in order to build
his home and raise fruit and vegetables. It has
required of nature centuries to perfect a hammock
which man completely destroys in a few weeks.

The human is a greedy creature of abundant
and costly needs and he destroys, often wantonly,
that which nature has so generously provided.
The shells of the fresh-water mussel are now used
for the manufacture of buttons, and he dredges
millions of specimens too small to use and merely
dumps them on the shore to die. He fills the

232 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

streams with the poisonous sewage of his cities;
he drains the earth of its oil and gas and lets the
one run to waste and the other to burn as it
escapes. He exhausts the soil and then abandons
it; he is a destroyer and not a conserver.

CHAPTER XI
Along the Stream

LL the streams of Lower Florida are mere

drains of the Everglades and the rather

narrow region of cypress swamps. I

doubt if any of them are over fifteen

miles long and like everything else in this area
they had their birth only yesterday.

The southwestern shore of the State is less
elevated than the southeastern and the slope of
two thirds of the lower part of Florida is toward
the Gulf of Mexico. When Willoughby crossed
the Everglades he entered them from Harney
River and at his Camp Number 6, about due west
of Miami and twenty miles from the east coast, he
found the water of the Glades still moving to the
southwest. The streams which enter the Gulf of
Mexico within our region have no real valleys and
even on the east coast, where they break through
the great rocky ridge, their depressions are feebly

233

234 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

marked. The upper parts of the streams are ill
defined in the great swamp. Their lowest parts are
mere lagoons, ramifying among the mangroves.

It has been asserted that within the lifetime
of our plants and animals the peninsula of Florida
was elevated until a land connection was estab-
lished with the Island of Cuba and that over this
land way much of our tropical life has migrated.
To form such a passageway it would have been
necessary to elevate the whole area three fourths
of a mile, and had the land remained at this level
long enough for any considerable migration our
streams would have eroded deep valleys in the
soft rock. The surface of the peninsula would
have been worn into a very irregular topography
and the valleys once occupied by the streams would
now be fiordlike inlets of great depth. As a’
matter of fact the beds of our streams are com-
posed of Pleistocene deposits, and none of them
has ever been lowered below their present level. —
An additional proof that Cuba and Florida have
never been connected since the present flora and
fauna have existed lies in the fact that Cuba with
a thousand species of land snails possesses one of
the richest mollusk faunas on earth. Had a land

Upper View. Mouth of Little River

Lower View. Same Stream a Short Distance above Mouth
Photo by Everett A. P. Marguett

ALONG THE STREAM 235

bridge existed it is certain that with the advent
of tropical plants a large number of ‘Cuban snails
would have migrated toourregion. Asitisonecan
almost count on his fingers all such species living
within our territory or which by any possibility
could have been derived from them. This is
exactly the condition we would expect to find
if life from Cuba had been brought to Florida by
ocean currents.

Florida is so lacking in any striking natural
features that the few it possesses receive exagger-
ated names, and so it happens these short water
courses have been called ‘‘rivers.” They are all
divided into two quite distinct parts—first an
upper, fresh-water stretch reduced to a rivulet or
a dry bed in winter or becoming a powerful
stream in the rainy season; and second, a lower,
estuarine part of generally brackish water in which
the tide ebbs and flows. A few of them on the
east coast flow between low limestone walls, hav-
ing doubtless begun their existence as water
passages under the rock. Cutler and Snapper
creeks were examples of this before their channels
were artificially opened, and Arch Creek still
passes under a natural bridge.

236 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

On the east coast the rocky rim of the Ever-
glades is slightly elevated and there are rapids
where the streams break through. In the estu-
arine parts there is often a depth of six to ten feet
caused by the scouring action of the tides and the
solution of the rock—all aided by a recent slight
subsidence of the land. On the southeast part of
the State there are, from north to south, New
River, Snake, and Arch creeks, Little and Miami
rivers, Snapper, Cutler, and Black creeks and Chis
Cut. On the south are Taylor River and an un-
named stream which drains Cuthbert Lake. The
streams of the lower west coast are, from south
to north, Big Sable Creek, Jos, Shark, Harney,
Fatsallehonetha, Rogers, Chittahatchee, Fatla-
thatchee, Alcatapacpachee, and Lakpahatchee riv-
ers, Weikiva Inlet, Chokoloskee, and Corkscrew
rivers, with several fortunately unnamed outlets.
Some of the above have names sufficiently long
and complicated for streams a thousand miles in
length; obviously they are Seminole, and they
have abundant time to pronounce them.

There is often a residue of grayish or slate
colored marl deposited in and around the border
of the Everglades, and some of this is carried down

ALONG THE STREAM 237

by the streams during high water to form exten-
sive mud flats at their mouths. Muck and peat
may be added by the rank vegetation which
springs up on it. A bar frequently forms just
outside the debouchure. I believe these bars are
formed in quite the same way that are the parallel
islands and peninsulas along the coasts—that is,
by two opposing currents.

A trip up any of these streams reveals much of
beauty and interest. Having crossed the outer
bar, where the water may be so shallow that it is
difficult to pass with a skiff, one at once finds a
depth of from six to ten feet, and this depth may
be carried for along distance up the estuary. Gen-
erally the bottom is of solid limestone, with an
occasional mud bar. The lower course of the
stream is likely tortuous and bordered with a
dense growth of mangroves and other littoral
trees. These are often large and tall, their tops
completely arching the estuary. The low shores
are a tangle of roots, and the mud is thickly stud-
ded with the quill-like pneumatophores of the
white and black mangrove. In this complex will
be found two species of giant Acrostichums, half
aquatic ferns which are equally at home in brack-

238 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

ish or fresh-water mud. One of these reaches a
height of twelve feet and the growth is very dense.
Two lusty vines or sprawlers (Ecastophyllum
brownit and Rhabdadenia biflora) entwine the
shrubs and trees, sometimes attaining the forest
roof; both bear attractive white flowers. A hand-
some broad-leaved tree (Crescentia cucurbitana),
one of the tropical calabashes, is abundant and
carries its curious purple blossoms and large oval
fruits at one and the same time. Here and there
the mud slopes smoothly down to the water, free
from any kind of growth, and very rarely one sees
a swift movement and hears a commotion as an
alligator rushes down this ‘‘crawl’’ into the water.
Still more rarely something which resembles a long,
straight saw palmetto stem is seen floating but
approached it disappears with a swirl and splash,
for a second revealing a crocodile (Crocodilus
acutus). This saurian is found in the United
States from the upper end of Biscayne Bay to
Cape Sable and inhabits a large part of tropical
America. It has been maintained to be of very
recent record in Florida, but Stejneger has called
attention to Rafinesque’s publication concerning
it in the Kentucky Gazette of 1822. This strange,

ALONG THE STREAM 239

half-demented naturalist had a remarkable faculty
for finding rare and unknown animals.

The crocodile may be distinguished from the
much more common alligator by its narrow snout,
by its greater activity, and by the character of its
nest. It simply scoops out a hole in the sand and
deposits fifty to seventy-five eggs in successive
layers, smoothing over the cache in a perfectly
level manner. The alligator lays its eggs well
back from the fresh-water streams, the nest being
hidden in vegetation and finally finished with a
mound of leaves, dead wood, or stumps. In their
battles the clumsy alligator is no match for the
crocodile with its powerful array of long, sharp
teeth. For much information concerning these
giant reptiles I am indebted to Willoughby who
tells (in Across the Everglades) of killing a thirteen-
foot specimen, and also to Dimock’s accounts of
them in his Florida Enchantments. He captured
one on the south shore of the mainland fourteen
feet and two inches long. Dimock also gives very
interesting accounts of alligators.

I doubt if the latter reptile has ever been so
abundant or aggressive in Lower Florida as it was
formerly in the northern part of the State. I

240 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

have never heard of it voluntarily attacking a full-
grown person in our region, though tales are told
of its catching and eating children. Bartram tells
some astonishing stories of the vast numbers, great
size, and ferocity of this reptile on the St. John’s
River. He states that he was repeatedly attacked
by alligators and obliged to fight for his life; that
they actually endeavored to upset his boat. In
a narrow place in the river, he relates, the water
was filled almost solid with various kinds of fish,
and to prey upon these the alligators assembled
in countless numbers. He goes on to say that the
latter were so close together that it would have
been possible to walk across the stream from shore
to shore on their heads. His description of these
animals as he saw them on the St. John’s is so
perfect that I cannot resist the temptation to give
it literally. On page 125 of his Travels:—‘‘The
alligator when full grown is a very large and
terrible creature, and of prodigious strength,
activity, and swiftness in the water. I have seen
them twenty feet in length, and some are supposed
to be twenty-two or twenty-three feet. Their body
is as large as that of a horse; their shape exactly
resembles that of a lizard, except their tail, which

ALONG THE STREAM 241

is flat or cuneiform, being compressed on each side,
and gradually diminishing from the abdomen to
the extremity, which, with the whole body, is
covered with horny plates or squamme, im-
penetrable when on the body of the live animal,
even to a rifle ball, except about their head and
just behind their forelegs or arms, where, it is said,
they are only vulnerable. The head of a full-
grown one is about three feet, and the mouth opens
about the same length; their eyes are small in pro-
portion and seem sunk deep in the head by means
of the prominency of the brows; the nostrils are
large, inflated, and prominent on top, so that the
head resembles, at a distance, a great chunk of
wood floating about. Only the upper jaw moves,
which they raise almost perpendicular, so as to
form.a right angle with the lower one. In the fore
part of the upper jaw, on each side, just under the
nostrils, are two very large, thick, strong teeth or
tusks, not very sharp, but rather the shape of a
cone; these are as white as the finest polished
ivory, and are not covered by any skin or lips, and
always in sight, which gives the creature a fright-
ful appearance: in the lower jaw are holes opposite

to these teeth, to receive them: when they clap
16

242 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

their jaws together it causes a surprising noise,
like that which is made by forcing a heavy plank
with violence upon the ground, and may be heard
at a great distance.

‘‘But what is yet more surprising to a stranger
is the incredibly loud and terrifying roar which
they are capable of making, especially in the spring
season, their mating time. It most resembles
very heavy, distant thunder, not only shaking the
air and water, but causing the earth to tremble;
and when hundreds and thousands are roaring at
the same time, you can scarcely be persuaded but
that the whole globe is violently and dangerously
agitated.

“‘An old champion, who is perhaps absolute
sovereign of a little lake or lagoon (where fifty less
than himself are obliged to content themselves
with swelling and roaring in little coves round
about) darts forth from the reedy coverts all at
once, on the surface of the waters, in a right line;
at first seemingly as rapid as lightning, but grad-
ually more slowly until he arrives at the center of
the lake, when he stops. He now swells himself
by drawing in wind and water through his mouth,
which causes a loud, sonorous rattling in the throat

ALONG THE STREAM 243

for near a minute, but it is immediately forced
out again through his mouth and nostrils with a
loud noise, brandishing his tail in air, and the
vapor ascending from his nostrils like smoke. At
other times, when swollen to an extent ready to
burst, his head and tail lifted up, he spins or twirls
round on the surface of the water.”

I know of nothing more fascinating than some
of these lower stream reaches, and the effect as one
drifts silently along them by moonlight is inde-
scribable. It is all so uncanny it seems more like
some scene of middle geological age than of the
present, and I never visit one of these estuaries
without half expecting to see Plesiosauri crawling
about on the mud or Pterodactyls hanging from
the branches.

There is generally a stretch of brackish prairie
just inside the outer screen of mangrove and this
is more or less covered by saw grass. The banks
of the stream here may be bordered with cattails
(Typha angustifolia) and the Jussiea peruviana,
the latter ranging from Peru northward through-
out the Florida peninsula. It grows along the
muddy banks of the estuaries and bears handsome
yellow flowers, sometimes rooting in the muck or

244 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

half floating on the water. It sends up from its
stems roots which resemble ordinary ones, but
their office is strictly to aerate the plant for in
reality they are simply oxygen pumps. The
beautiful Crinum americanum with its large,
starry, pure white flowers is often common along
the banks and one or more of the elegant spider
lilies (Hymenocallis) are seen peeping out of the
saw grass. Farther up the estuary where the
ground rises a little Myrica or wax myrtle, Annona
or pond apple, coco plums (Chrysobalanus), and
the swamp magnolia begin to appear.

At the end of the brackish water where the
rapids commence, a small mollusk is sometimes
found in great numbers on the rocks. This is one
of the Neritinas (NV. reclivata). Its nearly globular
shell is dark green with narrow, longitudinal
black stripes, and the accomplished animal can
live in fresh or brackish water or even in the air.
It is probably in process of becoming an air-
breather altogether. Two members of the same
genus live in the open sea along our coasts; this
has gone landward to the intersection of fresh and
brackish water, while several species in other
regions live in water that is wholly fresh, and at

ALONG THE STREAM 245

some distance from the sea. In the Philippines
are some species of this genus (Neritodryas, from
Nereis, a sea nymph, and Dryas, a tree nymph)
which live on trees at a distance of a quarter of a mile
from the ocean! The genus was probably derived
from Nerita, a very similar group that is wholly
marine.

Farther upstream where the water is entirely
fresh one finds a variety of small mollusks in the
sandy muddy bottom; several species of Plan-
orbis, with their flat, closely coiled shells, so that
there is a depression at both the spire and base.
There is a related snail living in the upper reaches
of the streams the shell of which resembles Plan-
orbis and is likely an aberrant member of that
genus. It has been called by several generic
names but is generally known as Ameria scalarts.
In some cases the shell is disk-shaped like Plan-
orbis, in others it looks as though the spire had
been awkwardly pushed up when in a plastic
state; there is every variation between extreme
forms. They grow by millions in the Everglades
and scarcely any two are exactly alike.

Still another interesting fresh-water mollusk is
found in the streams of Lower Florida. It is an

246 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Ampullaria or ‘‘apple snail,’”’ called ‘‘idol snail”
by the Indians of South America who hold it in
reverence. All the many species of. Ampullaria
inhabit the warmer parts of the earth, and usually
have large, globular shells. The animal is pro-
vided with a gill for use in breathing under water.
In addition it has a pair of ‘‘siphons,’’ the left one
developed into a long tube so when lying on the
bottom in shallow water it can extend it to the
surface and breathe air. Here is a case in which
the breathing operations go on perfectly whether the
animal is on duty above or having the watch below.
When the river goes dry they burrow deep in the
mud and enter a state of estivation, during which
their various organs practically cease to function.
It is said that. some of the species may be taken
from the mud during this sleep and kept for years
in the air without injury.

Where the streams of the southeast coast flow
through rocky hammocks they are very attractive.
Some of them flow for quite a distance beneath.
the rock to appear farther down as great springs,
and after a short visible course may disappear
again. Along their hammock borders there may
be sinks and small caverns which are sure to be

Ulislr

one
Tiwi

—
7

Drawn by Forrest Clark

Curious Root Growth of Annona which Serves as an Oxygen
Pump for the Tree

Upper View.

Lower View. Stream Reach with Brackish Prairie along its Banks

Photo by Pliny Simpson

ALONG THE STREAM 247

veritable fern gardens. The exceedingly dainty
spleenwort (Asplenium dentatum) often covers the
damp rocks and walls of the grottoes and in places
its delicate fronds are so crowded that they com-
pletely hide the surface of the rock on which they
grow. They form a most elaborate and dainty
tapestry.

Along the upper reaches we find more prairie
but the vegetation differs from that of the brack-
ish glades farther down. A few plants only are
identical and among these is the saw grass (Cla-
dium effusum) and a tall, striking reed (Phragmites
communis) which is found in Bermuda, Europe,
and throughout the eastern United States. It
bears large, handsome panicles of purplish flowers
which have a satiny sheen, and broad, glaucous
leaves. Sometimes one may see the smaller mink
(probably Putorius nigrescens) scurrying across an
open space or slipping gracefully into the water.
A pair of them lived in the lowland in front of
my house and they appeared to subsist chiefly on
land crabs. These they catch and after biting
off most of their claws and legs they play with
them, tossing them in the air and catching them
as a cat does a mouse. More rarely a coon is

248 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

seen, for it is largely nocturnal; it also preys on
land crabs. Often in the morning I have found
the fresh carapaces of the latter lying along my
lowland walk, with the soft parts completely
cleaned out by these animals. The land crabs
are found as far back as the Everglades.

There are a number of interesting aquatic plants
in the freshwater reaches of the streams. In
places the water purslane (Isnardia repens) fills
the channel until it forms a dam. It has thick,
bronzy, green leaves, and is a member of the
evening primrose family. Here too is the pretty
water pennywort (Hydrocotyle umbellata) with
round leaves elevated a little above the mud,
and the Proserpinacas with floating stems and
several kinds of leaves. In such places one may
find a lovely, low-growing, half-creeping plant
(Monniera) with bright green, succulent leaves
and pretty purple flowers forming a sod, and
often: with it the dainty Samolus or water pim-
pernel with small but attractive flowers. Here
I have found, either floating or stranded in the
mud, one of the strangest plants in the world. It
is a Lemna or duckweed (L. minor probably)

which has a wide distribution in North America,
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ALONG THE STREAM 249

Europe, and the tropics of both Old and New
worlds; it is the smallest flowering plant known!
A disk less than a tenth of an inch in diameter
floats on the surface of the water,—not a leaf, as
we might suppose, but the entire plant, with the
tiny rootlet which hangs below it. From the edge
or the upper side of this little oval, light green
disk, flowers, consisting of a stamen and pistil sur-
rounded by a tiny spathe, appear from a fissure.
It is generally propagated, however, by a sort of
bud which springs from a cleft in the edge or base
of the body, and usually four or five plants of vari-
ous sizes may be seen attached to each other. It is,
then, not only the smallest flowering plant but
thesimplest. Itis a distant relation of the skunk
cabbage and Indian turnip of the Northern States.

Sometimes the stream flows through a cypress
swamp and in it will be found much of interest.
Such spots are a bit uncanny by reason of the long
moss which hangs from the trees and imparts a
somber funereal appearance to the scene. The
small, delicate cypress leaves are arranged in two
series along the young deciduous stems and look
as though they were pinnate. The great trunks
have conical, fluted, or buttressed bases, and in

250 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

large specimens may be eighteen feet or more in
diameter at the ground. Here it does not attain
to the height or dimensions it does farther north,
but it becomes one of our largest trees. Scattered
through the swamp are erect, conical, woody
growths known as ‘‘cypress knees,’’ sometimes as
tall as a man or even more, with neither branches
nor leaves. To one who has never seen them
before they are certainly most incomprehensible.
Covered with bark and often fluted or buttressed,
the growth of the wood usually goes up one side
of the knee and turning at the top passes down the
other, the whole being occasionally hollow. For
a long time scientists were unable to account for
these strange growths, but it is now generally con-
ceded that they are pneumatophores or aerating
organs which furnish oxygen for the trees, and
the hollow, fluted bases of the trunks: probably
function in the same way.

As one proceeds through the swampy ground
along the stream he will notice in many places
that the mud of the banks is covered with tree
roots of various kinds. They not only come to
the surface but often project up and they roll
over and clasp each other in a most fantastic

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ALONG THE STREAM 251

tangle unpleasantly suggesting a lot of interwoven
serpents. Roots of the swamp bay run straight
over the mud while those of the magnolia, cassine,
bayberry, and some others twist and squirm into a
bewildering complex. Here and there irregularly
rounded knobs are thrust up and others are dis-
torted into loops. The roots of the Annonas often
rise well above the general surface of the swamp
and form the most curious growths imaginable.
They are sometimes locked in close embrace and
roll over and over as if engaged in a death struggle,
or again they may be turned into fantastic coils
and volutes which look like a lot of senseless wood
carving. Ficus aurea often grows on the higher
parts of the banks, though it does not reach a great
size in such unfavorable situations. The trees
usually stand elevated on their roots in quite the
same way as the mangroves, and when young they
have such a dainty appearance that they impress
one with the idea that they are afraid of wetting
their feet.

Why should all these diversified roots seek the
surface and even project up into the air? They
certainly appear crowded and forced upward for
room. I at first thought this to be the case.

252 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

There is often a depth of several feet of muck and
peat below and if one investigates he will find that
very few roots occupy it. So, then, there is no
lack of space beneath the surface and the ‘‘crowd-
ed out” theory fails. Without a doubt they come
to the top of the mud ‘‘voluntarily”’ and into the
air to absorb oxygen, as the soil of swamps is almost
destitute of that prime necessity. Often these
roots are sent up to a height of several inches and
then folded back so that the returning growth is
in contact with the ascending, thus forming a
perfect loop. These loops seem to explain the
growth of the curious cypress knees which in
ancestral forms doubtless grew in the same way
but have now been further modified by consolida-
tion into one united growth.

It seems to me that there is a soul throughout
nature, that the animals, and I like to believe,
the plants, to a certain extent, think, something
in the same manner that human beings do. Howe
invents the sewing machine, Bell the telephone,
McCormick the reaper—all devices to perform some
service for the benefit of man. A palm sends its
growing stem deep into the earth and buries its
vitals to protect them from fire; the mangrove

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ALONG THE STREAM 253

raises itself high on stilted roots in order that it
may live above the water and breathe; an orchid
perfects a complicated device to compel honey-
loving insects to cross-fertilize its pollen. Animals
resort, to all manner of tricks to conceal themselves
from their enemies. All these work not merely for
themselves but for the benefit of the race to which
they belong. If the work of man is the result of
thought that of animals and plants must be so
in some lesser degree. If man developed from a
lower animal, the superior from the inferior, where
may we draw the line between reason and instinct?

Gradually as we ascend the stream it finally
loses its character and becomes a mere, ill-defined,
shallow drain for the swamp from which it flows.
The Everglades lie just before us stretching away
in monotonous grandeur; saw grass and other low
vegetation cover the soft mud; the channel is
finally lost in a network of slight depressions
and the stream becomes merged into the mighty
prairie.

CHAPTER XII
Along the Mangrove Shore

ANGROVES flourish along tropical
and semi-tropical seashores the world
around, though they are not found in
Hawaii and a few other localities,

They usually grow on the borders of brackish
bays, lagoons, and lower stretches of streams but
are sometimes met with on open and even rocky
beaches. While there are several species in the
Old World, only one, the common red mangrove
(Rhizophora mangle), is found in the Western Hemi-
sphere, and this has a fine development in southern
Florida. It has been reported as ranging north to
Cedar Keys on the west coast of our State and to
Mosquito Inlet on the eastern side of the peninsula.
It is a tender tree and in time of severe frost has
repeatedly been killed outright in its northern
range; hence the different records regarding its
distribution in the State do not agree. During the
254

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ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE — 255

heavy frost of 1886 it was totally destroyed near
its northern limit on the west coast, and many
trees were badly injured as far south as Cape
Sable. I visited this coast in 1892, sailing along
it from Terraceia Island in Tampa Bay to the
lower end of Sarasota Bay, a distance of more than
twenty-five miles, and everywhere the mangroves
were dead and decaying,—a most melancholy
sight. Here and there at long intervals the club-
shaped seedlings had drifted in from more favored
regions and were becoming established, these be-
ing the only living mangroves I saw.

Ordinarily the American mangrove is a large
shrub or perhaps a small low-headed tree standing
on arched roots, and is often without any regular
trunk. In certain areas, notably the great swamp
east of Florida city, it is only a low shrub which
rarely reaches a height of three feet; except in
size it has the usual habit. Among the Ten
Thousand Islands, in places along the south coast
of the mainland, and about the shores of upper
Biscayne Bay, it becomes a tall and imposing tree.
In the islands the trunks are closely huddled
together; they seldom attain a foot in diameter
and have but few brace roots, or even none at all.

256 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Along the west shore of the northern part of Bis-
cayne Bay these trees reach their greatest dimen-
sions, individuals sometimes attaining a diameter
of four feet and a height of a hundred. As arule
these great trees stand at some distance apart but
their immense crowns intermingle. Formerly a
magnificent forest, chiefly mangroves, stood just
below the mouth of Little River and in it grew a
number of the largest sized and finest specimens,
Some of these were braced by air roots fully
eighteen inches in diameter that sprung from a
height of twenty-five feet above the ground, and
in other cases slender roots dropped from the
branches fully thirty-five feet above the soil. The
trunks were straight and smooth, usually without
branches below their stately crowns sixty to sev-
enty feet above. These trees easily ranked among
the most wonderful vegetable growths of the
State of Florida, They were sacrificed to human
avarice for the tannin in their bark and the
potential furniture in their close-grained, red wood.
To-day the whole forest is a desolate ruin.

Although attempts are made to explain the
great diversity in the growth of the mangrove
none are convincing.

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ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE ~ 257

A mangrove forest advances into shoal water by
means of its arching roots and the young plants
which spring up in very shallow places. The roots
do not merely drop into the mud and take hold
but they often continue to grow on, arching over
and over, and extending for thirty or forty feet.
Others drop from the branches twenty feet above
and make fast in the mud. Occasionally a hori-
zontal limb drops a root which fastens in the mud,
after which the original tree dies and the new root
becomes a tree, or the new may eventually become
separated from the parent and both live inde-
pendently.

In the economy of the tree the roots have a four-
fold function. First,—they render the ordinary
service of bringing up crude sap like all conven-
tional roots. Second,—they act as pneumato-
phores or oxygen gatherers and pumps. The soil
in swamps, as I have elsewhere said, is lacking in
oxygen, and trees living in them must resort to
special devices to obtain it.. The mangroves do
this by exposing a great mass of roots to the atmos-
phere. Third,— they elevate the body of the tree
well above standing water, for if the bases of these
semi-aquatic trees were constantly submerged it

258 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

would kill them. Fourth,—they form the most
wonderful system for bracing and holding the
trees against storms and the fury of the sea. It
is rare indeed that mangroves are injured by the
assaults of the most violent hurricanes.

Besides these important offices for the tree,
these roots greatly assist in building up and ex-
tending the land. They usually grow in soft mud,
which they so completely fill as to render very
firm. When a tree dies its roots do not decay
below the surface of the mud but form a peat in
which their forms are distinctly retained. I have
often seen the sea encroaching on the shore and
exposing old peat which was almost as hafd ‘as
some rock. Nothing could possibly be devised
better than these tangled roots for catching and
retaining the flotsam and jetsam of the sea. I
never look at these veritable traps, filled with every
conceivable kind of trash, without thinking ef the
ballad of The Spider and the Fly in which the
latter says in answer to the invitation of the for-
mer; ‘‘He who goes up your winding stair shall
ne’er come down again.”” Whatever is carried in
among these roots stays.

The growing roots vary from a quarter of an

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ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 259

inch to an inch in diameter and are very tender
about the growing points where they may be
snapped off like a young shoot of asparagus.
Each rounded point is protected by a closely
fitting, horny, brown cap, and if, before it reaches
the mud, this should become loosened or torn off
the root will not grow. As the swinging roots
often strike each other or may be abraded in
various ways they are not infrequently injured.
Then, as a general thing, several roots branch out
above the injured and dead point, all of which may
persist until they reach the mud and become
attached. By this means the tree gets even a
firmer hold than if nothing had happened and turns
misfortune into a positive advantage.

In order to extend its area the mangrove resorts
to strange expediencies. Really it seems endowed
with intelligence and cunning, so completely does
it adapt itself to its very peculiar environment
and profit by every feature of it. Average normal
seeds do not grow until in the ground some time,
in fact botanists now hold that many do not even
ripen on the plant already exhausted by strain of
blossoming and seeding and that they are cast off
while still immature. Hence it is that certain

260 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

seeds take so long to germinate. Those of some
palms, for example, lie in the ground actually for
years before they come up. But the tropics is a
region of wonders and therefore of exceptions to or-
dinary rules. Theseeds of mangroves sprout while
they hang on the tree, sending out club-shaped roots
about afoot long. These fall, often into the sea, and
may drift many miles to new localities. The grow-
ing point at the heavier end of the ‘‘club” sends
out roots rarely while floating; but when it strands
on some shallow bank it at once becomes attached
to the mud and begins its career as a new tree. I
once took several of these sprouted seeds and in-
serted them into mud and seaweed just below
high tide and in forty-eight hours they had begun
to throw out roots. In a week nearly all of them
had become well attached and established as little
trees.

Possibly in some instances seedlings float for a
year or even longer and still retain their vitality.
More often they fall into the soft mud near the
parent tree and again they seek to germinate and
grow on rough bare rocks. When they drop into
soft mud or water they maintain a vertical position,
the growing end down. But if the young plants

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View from Outside near Lemon City

Along the Mangrove Shore.

Photo by Everett A. P. Marguett

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 261

fall on mud too firm to penetrate, they must lie
prostrate and seemingly powerless,—but not so at
all;—in a short time roots are emitted from its
base. Those from the upper side of the ‘‘club”
being strongest and directed away from it attach
themselves to the mud and begin to pull the little
baby tree into an upright position. At the same
time the small trunk curves upward, and soon the
whole stands as straight as a soldier.

Mangroves grow in a variety of situations; on
land rarely touched by high tide and down to low-
tide mark, but not below this,—at least:in Florida.
I have reason to believe that the large, old trees
are more sensitive to excessive wet than are the
younger, smaller ones. Along the shores of Bis-
cayne Bay I have seen large trees at about the
limit of low tide but always dead or unhealthy. I
take this as an indication that the area which they
occupy is subsiding and that it has gone down
measurably within the lifetime of these old trees.
When young they are fairly rapid growers but
when old they add little to their girth each year,
and it is difficult to estimate the age of the larger
specimens. In the cooler parts of the earth the
trees add a single annual layer of wood that is

262 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

distinctly marked off from the rest, but in the
hotter regions trees make a growth whenever con-
ditions are favorable, and the layers of wood are
not necessarily annual and are often ill defined.
It is probable that the mangrove, in wet situations,
makes but a single growth in a year, but its layers
of wood are not well indicated. However, after
carefully studying sections of these large trees I
have placed their minimum age at a hundred
years. If I am right we have evidence of a
subsidence within the last century that may be
measured in inches.

A walk along one of our mangrove shores, if
scrambling and falling among the roots may be
so called, is extremely interesting. On a recent
“stroll”? I made note of the following flotsam
caught among the roots: leaves in great quantity
and variety, especially those of Thalassia (mana-
tee grass) and Cymodoce (turtle grass), both
erroneously called seaweed. The bulky masses of
these contribute greatly towards the building up
of the land: trunks and branches of trees, saw
logs, pieces of wood, some from, or parts of, vessels:
part of a chair, slabs from a sawmill, a number of
coconuts and other large seeds, a part of a saddle,

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 263

bamboo stems, shingles, parts of vegetable crates,
cigar stumps, a bit of hose, dead land crabs and
fishes, the remains of a bird, a piece of rope, a few
marine shells, onions, a royal palm and a coconut
petiole, and many corks and bottles—alas! for a
dry State too!

The mangroves must have some especial attrac-
tion for bottles judging from their abundance
among their roots. Beer and wine bottles, whisky
flasks of all shapes and sizes, bottles with wide
or narrow necks, long bottles, squat bottles,—their
number is legion. An innocent stranger would
naturally conclude that the inhabitants of this
region must be a set of besotted drunkards, but
the bottle crop must be laid instead to the passing
steamers.

Associated with the mangroves on the firmer
land is another littoral tree (Laguncularia) com-
monly called ‘‘white mangrove.’’ Along Biscayne
Bay it sometimes attains a height of sixty feet,
but is oftener a large shrub. While not so aggres-
sive a pioneer as the mangrove it is nevertheless an
active land builder. It has a device of its own for
catching trash and for aeration that is very effec-
tive. If one will examine the mud under one of

264 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

these trees he will find many curious, slender stubs
or quill-like growths sometimes a foot in height,
projecting above it and attached to the under-
ground roots of the tree. These not only provide
the tree with oxygen but they bind the mud to-
gether and hold all the finer trash which passes
through the wider meshes of the mangrove roots.

Yet another tree is often associated with these
called the ‘black mangrove” though neither it
nor the white is really related to the true man-
grove. Itis Avicennia nitida, a tree which carries
on the business of growing these strange pneumato-
phores (as the quill-like growths are called) to a
greater extent even than does the white mangrove.
Here it often becomes a large tree and the mud
beneath it, and for some distance away, is usually
thickly covered with its quills considerably taller
than those of the Laguncularia. It has the habit
of viviparity, like the mangrove, but developed
differently. Its large flattened seeds germinate
on the tree, the two seed lobes or cotyledons being
folded, and the roots do not greatly develop until
after they have fallen.

There is a variety of vegetation along the man-
grove shore and a little distance back in the

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 265

marshy ground, forming what is called the littoral.
It has been supposed that we have two Annonas
or pond apples, Annona glabra, with rather broad,
glaucous leaves, and sepals and petals of about the
same length; and Annona palustris with narrower,
bright green leaves and the sepals longer than the
petals. But it turns out that the young plants
generally have the leaves of the former, this being
sometimes true of vigorous shoots on large trees.
I have repeatedly seen the two kinds of leaves on
one tree and the flowers are extremely variable.
Around the southern shore of Lake Okeechobee
this tree forms dense, lofty forests standing on
stilted roots like the mangrove. The wood is
extremely light and soft and is used for rafts and
floats for seines, while the roots are made into
razor strops.

Two vines are common, Ecastophyllum brownt,
an immense sprawler, and Rhabdadenia bifiora, both
of which reach to the tops of the tallest trees.
Here too is a magnolia supposed to extend its
range to the maritime swamps of New England,
and a persimmon identified as the northern one
but now considered distinct. It may grow in the
edge of standing water but the northern species

266 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

is a strictly dryland tree. The small fruited cala-
bash (Crescentia cucurbitana) is quite common in
fresh and brackish swamps also in the high ham-
mocks. In the more open spots, saw grass and a
Kosteletzkya, which, in spite of its atrocious name
has handsome pink flowers, are often found and
sometimes patches of saw palmetto occur. Here
in the rich, damp muck beyond the reach of forest
fires it isa sprawler often reaching tree-like propor-
tions. Two or three bulbous plants (Crinum and
Hymenocallis) brighten the littoral swamps with
their handsome white flowers and the two giant
ferns (Acrostichum sp.) are intermingled with two
lesser ones,—the royal fern anda Blechnum. The
royal fern is perhaps the most widely distributed
plant of Florida, being, according to Small, cos-
mopolitan in its distribution with the exception
only of the boreal regions.

A large shrub is often seen,—the button bush
(Cephalanthus) with opposite leaves and globular
heads of white flowers. It is also a widespread
plant, being found from Canada to California
and south to Texas and Lower Florida. For some
unknown reason it becomes a large tree in Arkan-
sas, just as the mangrove attains a great size on

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE _ 267

the shores of Biscayne Bay. A holly (Ilex cassine)
with glossy leaves and lovely scarlet berries is
common and a swamp bay which is very close to
the upland one is also abundant.

The sandy or muddy mangrove flats along the
southwest coast of Florida swarm with two species
of fiddler crabs of the genus Uca. Some of them
are prettily variegated with whitish, light and
dark purple, blue, and red. The males have one
large and one small arm, the former being held
across the body and threateningly brandished
whenever they are disturbed. The motion they
make in so doing somewhat resembles the playing
of a fiddle and hence the common name of ‘‘fiddler
crab’’; their fighting attitude and boxing move-
ments have inspired the specific names of ‘‘pug-
nax” and ‘“‘pugilator.” In spite of all their ag-
gressive show they are capable of inflicting but
little harm. As one walks along it seems that he
must crush many of them under foot, but somehow
by scrambling about in a ludicrous manner they
all manage to get out from under it. They eat
minute alge and particles of animal and vegetable
matter which they find in the crevices of old
stranded boats, timber, and decayed logs. This

268 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

they dig out with one of the claws (the male uses
the small one) and pass to the mouth with rapid
movement, reminding one of a hungry tramp,—a
most laughable sight.

On the south and southeastern coasts the fiddlers
are largely replaced by the great West Indian
land crab (Cardisoma guanhumi) which makes its
burrows in the muddy flats, and sometimes in
summer in the hammocks and pine woods. Here
in Florida this crab is active during the rainy
season, and after showers it wanders about in
great numbers. In the drier part of the year it is
seldom seen though it continues to prowl about
more or less at night. In the brackish mud flats,
especially near the higher ground, one may some-
times see in a square yard of space a half-dozen of
their burrows, varying in size from half an inch
to the thickness of a man’s arm. They pile the
mud from below around the mouths of their
burrows after the manner of the fresh water cray-
fishes. Without doubt this mechanical action on
the soil like that of the earth worms helps aerate
and prepare it for the dry land vegetation which is
to come later. So it happens that these crabs so
full of evil and so generally despised may, after all,

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 269

render some service in preparing the swamps for
the occupation of men.

Usually about the first of September they leave
their burrows in immense numbers and swarm
over the dry land. They take possession of the
yards and outhouses, and clamber up walls where
they can find anything to cling to. It is some-
times impossible to sleep at sight during this
swarming season on account of the everlasting
rustling and clattering. I have seen them cover
the ground so completely during these migrations
that over considerable spaces there was not room
to step between them. It is believed they come
out in this way to deposit their eggs in the sea, but
I am more inclined to believe that it is solely for
mating purposes as they range at these periods to
a considerable distance inland. Shortly after this
hegira they return to their burrows where they
remain, comparatively inactive, until the next
rainy season.

Certain species of small fish live in the shallow
water of the mangrove swamps and are completely
at home whether it is salt, brackish, or fresh.
During severe northers the water may be blown
out of the bays until extensive mud shoals become

270 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

bare. At such times these fish collect in the little
pools left and in case the water recedes until they
too are dry they burrow down into the mud, re-
maining there until the return of the tide without
apparently suffering the least harm. It is quite
probable that the ooze protects them from the
cold and equally so that the process of breathing
is partially suspended during this mud bath. I
have taken them from the mud and replaced them
in water when they immediately became as active
as ever.

Back where the mud becomes firmer and near
the meeting place of the swamp and dry land, we
find two species of coco plums (Chrysobalanus
spp.), our two Ficus (F. aurea and F. brevifolia),
Baccharis, a weedy shrub or small tree, one or
two of the Eugenias, and several of the trees
belonging in the regular hammock,—outliers of
the upland forest. One of the littoral trees -of
wide range is the buttonwood (Conocarpus erec-
tua), a tropical tree not related to the northern
sycamore of the same popular name. On the
higher, firm ground it is usually a tall shrub, but
in the least wet parts of the swamps it becomes a
large tree and is, without doubt, one of the strang-

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 271

est vegetable productions of the earth. It has
thick, elliptic, glossy foliage and at first it grows
upright, a clean stemmed tree with rough red-
dish bark, attaining a diameter of more than two
feet and a height of seventy. But it has a weak
root development also probably a part of the
scheme of its peculiar growth. Sooner or later it
is sure to be blown over but this causes it neither
injury nor inconvenience. Its wood is a dark,
greenish brown, with a grain more confusedly
locked than even that of the sycamore. Yet it
is very brittle and in falling the trunk is much
twisted and shattered. It immediately thrusts
forth vigorous new growth from various parts of
the prostrate trunk. This may be overturned
again in a few years by another storm and the
process repeated until one can hardly tell where
the tree begins or ends. In many cases the
growth of this strange vegetable is progressive
and it seems slowly to work its way onward over
the surface of the muddy soil almost like some
living animal.

The trunk becomes in time very irregular and
large, being composed of knotted, twisted, or
apparently braided strands, often as large as a

272 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

man’s thigh and with openings between in which
one could thrust his arm. At times the outer
living parts spring clear from the often decayed
inner heart wood. These cavities then become
partly filled with mold from decaying wood and
leaves, and in them grows a strange cryptogamous
plant (Psilotum triquetrum) which is rather closely
related to the club mosses. It fastens its roots
firmly to the tree, sometimes penetrating the
bark and the half decaying wood and sends up its
slender, branching, rod-like stems which bear
scattered scales in place of leaves, and small,
berry-like, yellow fruits. The creeping Poly-
podium (P. polypodioides) often covers the great,
shaggy trunk, and Blechnum serrulatum as well as
the two sword ferns already referred to are found
with it. Occasionally several epiphytic orchids
and a Peperomia make their home on the bark
and altogether the buttonwoods become veritable
aerial gardens.

As a result of being repeatedly overthrown these
great trunks are sometimes twisted fully twice
around and the brittle wood is so split up that
some of it is detached and lies scattered on the
ground, while the whole becomes so contorted

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE 273

that it suggests the body of an immense serpent.
If any living part of the trunk comes in contact
with the soil it throws out roots and forms a new
attachment with the ground and at such places
fresh shoots come up. If two trees grow side by
side, one will likely crawl over the other and they
become locked in a death struggle. They always
suggest colossal serpents or saurians. Occa-
sionally some living part becomes detached and
forms a separate tree; or a limb will be seen which
is dead at the ground or at its junction with the
main stem but alive a little above; it will even-
tually fall over and become a separate plant. I
have traced a crooked trunk for sixty feet along
the mud to find it turn and grow in a half erect
position for twenty-five feet more. Towards the
base, if it can be said to have one, parts or strands
of the trunk lie dead and scattered on the ground,
while others which are alive and growing will
possibly, in time, form trees. Finally in the
“‘wake” of the tree there will be a wagonload of
dead and decaying fragments, some pieces being
free, while others are attached to the ground by
old roots. The entire plant seems to obey no law
in its strange grotesque growth. There area num-

274. IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

ber of plants which grow at one end and die at the
other; the common sphagnum moss (Sphagnum
sp.) and the saw palmetto are well known exam-
ples. But I know of nothing which carries on such
a system of growth and upon so extensive a scale
as does the buttonwood; nothing so out of joint
with itself, so whimsical and apparently without
purpose. It is possible that this split up, braided
growth may aid in aerating the tree. I cannot
understand why it should be necessary for the
tree to fall and live its life out in a reclining posi-
tion unless it is that it permits it to live on and on
indefinitely. No one knows how old some of these
patriarchs are, but with no greatly disturbing in-
fluence I see no reason why they may not live
many hundredsof years. If they are not immortal
they come nearer to being so than any vegetable
growth with which I am acquainted.

The work of building the littoral may be likened
to the construction of a great edifice. The true
mangroves break the ground, they lay the foun-
dation at extreme low tide and construct the base-
ment; the white and black mangroves carry up
the lower part of the structure; the pond apples,
buttonwoods, Ilex, and bayberries build the upper

ALONG THE MANGROVE SHORE — 275

part of it, and the Ficus, coco plums, and Eugenias
put on the finishing touches which complete the
building. The work goes on through the centuries
and the mud flat that is submerged at every tide
is slowly converted into high, dry land on which
will be built the homes of men.

CHAPTER XIII
The Open Sea Beach

HE seashore is an interesting place even
to those who have no scientific attain-
ments nor taste for natural history.
The abrupt change from the land to the

illimitable stretch of sea is startling and stimu-
lating. Along the shore line the restless surf, the
rising and falling of the tide, the odd and strange
forms of marine life, fragments of wrecks, and
material drifted from foreign shores,—all have a
suggestion of mystery and therefore fascination.
Burroughs has said of one on the sea beach:
‘“‘He stands at the open door of the continent and
eagerly drinks in the large air.” To the naturalist
who knows something of its life; who can, by
study of its living fauna, read the history of the
land, the seashore is the most fascinating place in
the world.

Along the west coast from Cape Romano to
276

‘THE OPEN SEA BEACH 377

Cape Sable there are beaches composed of silicious
sand and the same formation is met with on the
southeastern shore from Fort Lauderdale (the
northern limit included in this volume) to Cape
Florida. South of the two last mentioned capes
the beaches are either rocky, broken coral, coral
sand, or marl. The shores of southwest Florida
are wonderfully rich in marine life, especially in
mollusks. A little distance north of Cape Romano
at Sanibel Island there is the most amazing de-
velopment of marine shells I have ever seen.
When the wind blows strongly toward the land
and the sea bottom is agitated for some distance
out, shells, often containing the animal, crus-
taceans, fish, sponges, and a great variety of life
are cast up on the shore. One of the strangest
of these creatures is the horseshoe crab (Limulus
polyphemus), a large crustacean that is seen from
May to midsummer, at which time it comes up on
the sand to lay its eggs near high water mark.
The outline of the body is nearly round, being
slightly drawn out behind: it has a long, spike-like
tail, and the general color is brownish or chocolate.
There is only one other species of the genus known
and it inhabits the Malay Archipelago. Limulus

278 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

reaches back to Permian time, and allied forms are
found in the Silurian rocks. The shield really
consists of six segments which are soldered to-
gether but are separate in the embryonic stage.
It has six pairs of appendages, the two forward
ones acting as antennez, the bases of the others
which surround the mouth being serrate. These
serrations act as teeth or jaws and are used in
seizing and masticating the food. And these same
appendages also fulfill the part of legs and carry the
animal about! ‘There is a pair of large compound
eyes near the center of the shield and a smaller
pair forward. I have called this strange animal
a crustacean but it has recently been classed with
the spiders and is believed by some naturalists to
be related to the scorpions. It bears some resem-
blance to the Trilobites of the ancient Paleozoic
seas, and in the larval state especially suggests
these long extinct forms.

Everywhere along the sandy shores of the south-
west coast the ghost crab (Ocypoda albicans) is
abundant, varying in color from yellowish white
to pepper-and-salt and harmonizing peffectly
with the sand on which it lives. When pursued
it scampers along with astonishing rapidity, often

Wewg “yy uyof 1q Aq o,0y4g
TOMPUY 3B caqueg SUL “S|JOYS Jo syorY Surmoys ‘o[qug edeg ye yoveg vag uadg ony

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 279

suddenly squatting down, and disappearing; so
closely does it mimic the color of its environment
that it generally eludes its enemies. Without
doubt its common name was suggested by its
ghost-like appearance. There are sand fleas
(Orchestia) which burrow in the sand, and are as
lively as the insect from which they are named,
and the shore is sometimes almost covered with
hermit crabs (Paguride) of a number of species.
They live mostly in dead, empty shells, the tail
heing soft and provided with a pair of hooks at its
end for holding to the home chosen. When, by rea-
son of increasing growth, this crab finds its tene-
ment too small it hunts for a larger one, and is
quite indifferent as to what kind; it may sometimes
go into a sponge or even the tube of a plant stem.
Once on the southwest coast I was fortunate
enough to witness a change of habitation. A good
sized hermit in a shell of Fulgur pyrum was moving
about among a number of dead shells, apparently
with the feeling of a man looking at houses to let.
At last it found a shell of Polinices duplicata
which was larger than its dwelling but very dif-
ferently shaped. It moved around it several
times, peered into it, probably to see if it was in

280 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS”

good condition for occupancy, then it came close
alongside, whipped its body quickly out of the
old residence and into the new, after which it
scuttled rapidly away.

On floating and stranded timber there are
thousands of Lepas, a curious animal with flat-
tened, bluish white, shelly plates which belongs
with the barnacles. It is attached by a scale
covered, fleshy stalk, and within the plates are
the vital parts.

One of the commonest marine animals among
the Florida Keys and the southeast coast is the
Portuguese man-of-war (Physalia arethusa). It
is really a sort of community of organisms united
in one body. There is an elongated, doubly
pointed, inflated sac, which keeps the whole afloat,
and this is surmounted by a crest that acts as a
sail. The float is filled with air and rests on the
surface of the sea, while from it depends a mass
of tentacles and various organs. These are at-
tached a little to one side of the base of the
sac near its broader end. According to Mrs.
Arnold in her excellent book, The Sea Beach
at Ebb Tide, these streamers sometimes attain a
length of forty or fifty feet when the creature is

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 281

sailing along, and they act to some extent as
anchors to keep the Physalia from being driven
ashore. It can raise the narrow end of the float
or sail and make it ‘‘come about” in the wind.
Notwithstanding these safety devices millions
of them are washed ashore and at once die. It is
a favorite amusement along our shores to step on
. these air bladders to make them pop with a loud
noise. Some of the tentacles are covered with
stinging or lasso cells which inflict severe pain on
any swimmer who ventures among them and
they doubtless, by this means, paralyze their prey.
There are also locomotive and reproductive
tentacles and still others which appear to have
nutritive functions. They are among our strangest
forms of life and are glorious objects when seen
floating on the sea, the whole being a rich violet
or blue with iridescent shades. With the Physa-
lias are associated the Vellela (V. limbosa) which
is also richly colored with shades of violet. It is
also a compound animal with an oblong float and
diagonal sail.

The commonest bivalve mollusk of the south-
west coast is Spisula similis with a triangular,
whitish shell that attains the length of three

282 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

inches. It is believed to be a dwarf variety of
Spisula solidissima, which the collector will find
in just as great abundance from Cape Hatteras
northward. It is probable that on account of
climate our southern form is less robust and
brighter colored than its northern relative. On
the other hand Venus mercenaria, the common
hard-shell edible clam of the New Jersey and Long
Island coasts, reaches a length of three inches,
while in the bays along our southwest coast it
becomes more than twice that size and attains the
preposterous weight of five pounds. It is some-
times considered a mere variety of mercenaria and
again is ranked as a species. In these two cases
climate seems to work both ways. No doubt
conditions in the north are more favorable for
the Spisula than along the Florida coast, while
the subtropical waters of the Gulf of Mexico
exactly suit the large clam which grows only in a
stunted form in the cold northern ocean. Macro-
callista gigantea and M. maculata have large,
beautifully maculated, polished shells; Cardium
magnum, C. isocardia, and C. levigatum are abun-
dant, handsome forms, the former as large as a
man’s fist. There are elegant circular Dosinias

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 283

and a host of Tellinas and Macomas, with many
species of Lucina and Pecten. One of the latter
has the upper valve dark and the lower white, the
one being colored by the sunlight while the other
which lies in the sand or mud is not darkened.
The same is true of many bivalves with a habit of
lying flat on the bottom. When one attempts to
catch this Pecten it rapidly opens and closes its
valves, ejecting muddy water and darting away
on the reaction.

Donax variabilis is another mollusk which de-
pends on a trick to prevent its capture by enemies.
In spring these lovely little clams are washed up
on the sand by millions and for a moment they lie
gleaming with a wonderful array of color—little
gems of the sea. The shell is about an inch in
length and beautifully polished, white, purple,
rose, or yellow, often delicately rayed. Only fora
moment do they remain on the sand, for in a flash
they turn and dig themselves out of sight. Who-
ever catches them must not stop to admire their
beauty, for if he does not one will be left.

Fulgur perversus, a giant gastropod mollusk,
sometimes has a shell fifteen inches long and very
solid. Most shells of this class are dextral, that

284 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

is if held with the spire end up the mouth or aper-
ture will be on the right side of its axis. But
this one almost invariably turns to the left,—it is
perverse. Its curious egg cases are often washed
up having many capsules filled with eggs or young
and these infant shells all turn to the left. Then
there are Pyrulas and Melongenas, and Polinices
with very curious egg cases, and Crepidulas,
shaped like a boat with a seat near the middle;
there are lovely Conus, three species of superb
Fasciolarias, and several small Olivellas whose
polished shells gleam like gems.

I once had lived on the southwest coast for two
years and though every time I collected on the
open beach I found shells of the beautiful Oliva
litterata they were always dead specimens. I had
searched for them in all kinds of situations and I
could not imagine where they concealed them- ~
selves. One day when I was on my knees gather-
ing minute shells I saw something move in the
sand. I reached out and from the end of a furrow
pulled out a mass of soft white flesh nearly as
large as my palm. It squirmed and contracted
until finally I held in my hand a glorious shell of
the Oliva which I had so long sought, and into

Curious Egg Case of Fulgur perversus, a Large Marine Gastropod
Photo by Dr. R. W. Shufeldt

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 285

which the entire animal formerly expanded had
withdrawn. Its nacreous surface shone as though
it had been varnished, bringing out in detail its
wonderful color markings of blue-gray and brown-
ish zigzag flames on a yellow ground. I shall
never forget my thrill of delight. Then when I
looked around I found numberless furrows in the
sand and at the end of each was a living Oliva.
They burrow to a depth of a few inches and come
up to crawl about for food just at the surface. I
had thought that so brilliant a shell would attract
enemies, but whenever the animal comes to the top
of the sand the shell is covered entirely with its
foot which is always the same color as the material
in which it lives! If the sand is white the foot is
white, if it is gray or yellow or even black the foot
corresponds in color!

In little bays or around temporary pools which
have been left by the tide one often finds ricks of
small, interesting shells and sometimes minute
species are mixed with dirt and trash so that all
must be carefully looked over, perhaps with a
hand glass, in order to discover all the treasures.
Again large shells sometimes lie in veritable fur-
rows on this coast so abundantly indeed that a

286 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

train of flat cars might be loaded with acceptable
specimens from one spot. Once with a friend I
visited one of these beaches which to reach re-
quired quite a walk. We found the shore cov-
ered with fine shells and in a short time we had our
sacks and baskets full, when I suggested a return
to our boat. He looked wistfully at the heaps of
beautiful specimens lying at our feet to be aban-
doned and then pulled off a knitted, seamless
sweater and said: ‘‘It’s a cold day when I leave
such a lot of shells as these.’’ We tied the neck
and ends of the sleeves, and began to fill it. I
never saw anything stretch like that sweater; the
sleeves became as large as the original body. It
stretched lengthwise and sidewise and when com-
pletely full we added my coat to the lower end
and tied it on. The thing looked like the skin of
some great animal stuffed with sawdust such as
we used to see mounted in the old natural history
museums.

If one goes about thirty miles south and west
of Cape Sable to the Content Keys (among the
nearest islands of the lower chain) he will find the
marine fauna almost as much changed as though
he had crossed to the Pacific. The Keys are a

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 287

region of corals and Gorgonias and but few things
are to be seen among them which belong on the
sandy beaches of the southwest coast. The Lu-
idias or brittle stars of the west coast are replaced
by the great Pentaceros; the sand dollars (Mellita)
by a Metalia which looks like a corn pone. In-
stead of the harmless purple sea urchin of the
western shores one cannot put his hand under a
rock without danger of meeting the dreadful spines
of the Diadema setosum. This urchin has a
relatively small body which seems constructed for
the sole purpose of supporting the most villainous
armament of long, brittle spines which by merest
contact drive deep into one’s flesh and invariably
break off, causing most intense pain.

The various yellow or purple sea fans which are
found in great numbers in key waters are won-
derfully graceful and remind one of living plants.
Upon them are found certain mollusks of the
family Ovulide the shells of which always have
the color of their host. On the shores one com-
monly finds several mollusks belonging to the
Littorinide, three or four Neritas, two or three
of the Chitons, as many Purpuras and Siphonarias,
all of which adhere closely to the rocks, and

288 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

though some of them are brightly colored they
are generally so concealed by conferve that it is
difficult to see them. Under projecting rocks or
among mangrove roots are two Cypreas or ‘‘mic-
ramocks”’ as they are locally called. These are
queens among the mollusks on account of their
size and the exquisite beauty of their shells. They
are hard to find because the fleshy mantle of the
animal covers the shell when the creature is active.
There is a number of species of lovely Tellinas
which are always beautifully polished, Codakias
with orbicular shells, a couple of fine Cardiums
and a red Pinna, among bivalves, and the great
pink conchs, a handsome Murex, two or three
helmet shells and as many Fasciolarias among the
gasteropods. The fauna of the southeast coast
is much like that of the keys but lacks some of the
rock-loving species.

The curious Janthinas or violet snails are abun-
dant in both of these areas and they are some-
times washed ashore in immense numbers. The
animal exudes a glutinous secretion from a gland
in the foot which hardens and forms a float filled
with air bubbles, and in this the female lays her
eggs. As these floats are attached to the Jan-

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 289

thinas they cannot sink and they live in com-
munities a sort of pelagic life in the open sea.
The shells are thin and together with the entire
animal are a lovely violet color. At least four
species inhabit our waters though Janthina com-
munis is much the most common.

IT once made a cruise in the schooner A sa Eldridge
from Bradentown, Florida, to Honduras and on a
Sunday morning while lying at Key West I strolled
over to the north shore of the island. As I ap-
proached I saw from a short distance that it was
everywhere a mass of glowing violet color and
then I found it to be covered from below tide to
well out on the land with fresh Janthinas. All
the depressions and pot holes in the rocky shore
were filled,—in places several feet deep. <A vast
community or gathering of them probably ex-
tending for miles had stranded the night be-
fore on the beach. It was the most astounding
sight in the way of molluscan life I had ever
seen and when I recovered from my surprise I
proceeded to collect specimens. Lacking any
receptacle in which to put them I used my
handkerchief, then my new straw hat, then one
pocket after another of my fresh white linen

290 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

suit, and when fully loaded I started for the
schooner.

The day was hot, and soon the snails seemed
to be melting. To my horror violet blotches
appeared on my coat and trousers, spreading
rapidly until the purple juice from the animals
actually ran down and filled my shoes! I reached
the city as the church bells were ringing and I tried
to evade people by taking alleys and back streets
but everywhere I met groups of churchgoers who
stared at me in astonishment. They no doubt
took me for an escaped lunatic. It seemed to me
that Key West had a population of a hundred
thousand and all churchgoers. Having run that
gantlet and reached the vessel our crew greeted
me with shouts and laughter. My smart suit was
ruined, nor could I even wear it around the
vessel without being derided,—but I had the
satisfaction of cleaning up over two thousand fine
Janthina shells.

The dissimilarity between the life of the west
coast and that of the key region is due in
part to the different character of the sea bottom,
the one being wholly of silicious sand and the
other of coral sand and rock. A more important

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 291

cause lies in the difference of sea temperature in
the two regions. On the west coast there is a
very gradual slope of the sea bottom for a long
distance from the land and the shallow water is
winter cooled until its temperature is lowered sev-
eral degrees below that of the keys and the south-
eastern coast where the shores are bathed by the
tepid waters of the Gulf Stream. This powerful
current, of mighty volume and majestic flow, is
unmodified by Florida winters. Even the shoals
and shore water cools but little, hence the marine
life is strictly tropical.

A considerable number of marine mollusks which
inhabit the Atlantic coast of the southeastern
States are also found in the Gulf of Mexico, but
they do not extend their range to the extreme
lower part of Florida. The water of the sea, as I
have shown, is considerably warmer along the
Gulf Stream than it is farther northward and as
these are temperate and warm temperate forms
they do not find this almost tepid water congenial.
For a long time I could not understand this
peculiar distribution, nor how these Atlantic coast
mollusks could have found their way into the
Gulf. Geologists assert that during late Tertiary

292 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

a sea passage existed across the State from lower
St. John’s River to Tampa Bay. If true we have
an answer but the present contour of the land does
not very well support the channel theory.

We do know positively that during early or
middle Pleistocene time a considerable subsidence
of the State of Florida took place. Dr. E. H.
Sellards, formerly our State Geologist, has kindly
outlined for me a map showing the shore line of
the peninsula after the subsidence. It lay a short
distance east of Bradentown, passing south into
De Soto County, thence east (just north of the
Caloosahatchee River) and northward in about
the center of the present State. In a general way
the territory east of the St. John’s was submerged
though there were a couple of long islands in that
region. The ocean reached north along the south-
ern part of the State almost to the 27th parallel,
and as the climate was cooler than at present the
opportunity was furnished for migration of Atlan-
tic forms into the Gulf.

Everywhere along the banks of the Disston and
other drainage canals in the Everglades the soft
excavated Pleistocene rock is filled with the same
marine shells now living on the west coast. One

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 293

might suppose he was gathering shells on the beach
at Charlotte Harbor or at Tampa Bay but for
the fact that the Disston material is semi-fossil.
Heilprin dredged these same fossil marine shells
in Lake Okeechobee. Among the shells Venus
cancellata outnumbers all others and the beds
have been named after it. Venus mortont, as
ponderous as it is to-day is common, and all the
west coast Fasciolarias, Murices, Fulgurs, Car-
diums, Lucinas, Macomas, Tellinas are found
everywhere in these Pleistocene beds. In short
they contain a complete duplication of the present
marine life of the west coast; here the shells lie
scattered across the State just as if they had fallen
out of the ranks and died during their migration
from the Atlantic to the Gulf. Since then the
State has been elevated and extended nearly two
and a half degrees to the southward, or to within
a degree of the Tropic of Cancer. On its southern
extension it has been crowded against the Gulf
Stream, and the warm temperate forms can not
exist in this tepid sea.

Going east through the canal from Okeechobee
to Palm Beach one finds while nearing the sea a
number of tropical marine shells (fossil) in the

296 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

of the two oceans resulted after which reélevation
of the area closed the strait. After separation
conditions differed a little on each side; the water
of the western ocean was cooler than that of the
eastern and food conditions may have slightly
differed. Species most susceptible to environ-
ment began to change, and so we have the cases
of two forms so similar but not quite identical in
the two seas. The animals least susceptible to
environmental change modified but little or not
at all, and hence the cases of specific identity on
the two sides of the isthmus.

The flora of the seashore is extremely inter-
esting. Along sandy beaches and dunes, espe-
cially on the west coast, a tall, handsome grass
(Uniola paniculata) grows in great abundance. It
has ample, nodding panicles of oval flower heads
which look as if they were braided and keep
long as everlastings. Scevola plumieri is an at-
tractive low plant with thick, glossy leaves and
pretty white flowers that are cleft to the base on
one side. In sheltered spots a sunflower (Heli-
anthus debilis) carpets the sand and displays its
brilliant yellow flowers during most of the year.
In moist places a succulent plant somewhat

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 297

resembling our garden portulaca (Sesuvium por-
tulacastrum) covers the ground. This also lives
along the seashores throughout the West Indies,
and, according to Coulter, it grows inland through
Texas to California, presumably in saline locali-
ties. Everywhere along our sandy shores the
goatsfoot vine ([pomea pes-capre) with its trailing
stems, round notched leaves, and great purple
flowers binds the loose sand together with its
roots. A tall shrub (Suriana maritima) has yel-
low blossoms remarkable because all their parts
are in fives,—five sepals, five, clawed petals, ten
stamens, and five pistils. In many places a cousin
of the cultivated heliotrope (Tournfortia gnapha-
loides) grows in immense clumps bearing small
white flowers in scorpoid racemes, which in Eng-
lish means they are borne on one side of stems
which are rolled up like scorpion tails. On dry
sand banks the Spanish bayonet (Yucca alotfolia)
grows to almost tree-like dimensions. Its stiff,
strong leaves are armed with terrible spines so it
is better to admire at a distance its splendid head
of tulip-shaped, white flowers. .

Along with the Yucca the shore grape (Coccolobis
uvifera) forms small forests. Often its branches

298 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

facing the sea are scorched by the strong, salt-
laden wind and its head leans far to leeward. The
large, stiff leaves are nearly round and almost as
thick as cowhide leather. They are of a pleasing
shade of green with red veins; in late winter they
turn to unnamed tints of yellow, red, or purple,—
autumn leaves without frost. The purple fruit
grows in long racemes and is edible,—for those who
like it. Of this tree Charles Kingsley has said,
‘*This shore grape, which the West Indians esteem
as we might a bramble, we found to be, without
exception, the most beautiful broad-leafed plant
we had ever seen.”’ It is certainly a most striking
tree and no one not an expert botanist would ever
suspect that it belonged to the buckwheat family.

On level spots and in slight depressions at the
line of extreme high tide a vast amount of trash
often accumulates, and it is always interesting to
dig this over for the many curious things it con-
tains. In it may be found seeds of three species
of Mucuna or sea bean which are often polished
and worn for ornament. Rarely one finds a lovely
carmine bean with a black border (Canavalia
rusiosperma). An almost globular seed a full inch
across is the fruit of a magnificent palm of South

THE OPEN SEA BEACH 299

America (Manicaria); when cut open the kernel
is often as fresh as when it fell from the tree, but
I have never been able to get one to grow. This
palm has enormous entire leaves which may be
four or five feet wide and thirty feet long; they
are used to thatch roofs of dwellings. Then there
is the common gray nicker bean (Guilandina)
and more rarely the similar yellow one. The
great brown seed of the Entada is usually very
common. A variety of interesting seeds will be
found in this drift and also the lovely shells of the
violet snails associated with the curious, chambered
Spirula. The pretty, loosely coiled shell of the
latter is in life concealed within the body of the
animal that develops it and which floats on or just
beneath the surface of the sea. . Though millions
of shells are washed up on tropical beaches all over
the world only a few fragmentary bits of the
animals are ever found. On the southeast coast
myriads of sponges are washed up. Among the
commoner ones are the ‘‘finger sponges” (Euspon-
gia) which occur in a variety of forms but consist
always of a cluster of hollow ‘‘fingers.”” There are
Neptune’s cups (Hircina) which may hold from a
pint to a bushel, and they vary as much in size

300 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and form as do the finger sponges. Other sponge
‘forms are long and slender, closely mimicking the
Gorgonias or madrepore corals. There are also
small, slender scarlet ones, and finally the Clionas
which bore into and destroy immense numbers of
shells. These ricks of sea trash upon the beaches
are excellent natural history museums.

I know of no greater pleasure than that of a
naturalist or collector, in the woods, the swamps,
along the streams or upon the open sea shore. I
pity those whose entire life and energies are de-
voted to money making, who have never revelled in
the beauty and freedom of the great out-of-doors.
I pity those with unlimited wealth, whose lives are
spent in seeking any kind of a sensation, anything
to consume the remorseless time which oppresses
them,—who would give anything for a new or
real thrill. Here on the sea shore are thrills with-
out number and discoveries many awaiting the
trained eye of the investigator. Here is opened
wide the great book of nature, the gleaming page
filled with wonders. Here too, is health, peace,
and contentment, and a new life for the soul cloyed
with the artificialities of an over stimulated civi-
lization.

CHAPTER XIV
The Wonders of Ajax Reef

OST of us are familiar with many
beautiful landscapes of mountains or
plain or of wide ocean reaches and
some know the glories of a tropic

night when the sky is brilliant with big stars that
show their perspective, but comparatively few have
gazed on the wonderful scenes beneath the sea.
My first experience in actually seeing and going
about among the living fish, corals, and other
marine animals of a coral reef was an event of
my life.

Ajax Reef is a little less than three miles off
Elliott’s Key, and is distant about eighteen nauti-
cal miles from Miami in a south by east direction.
It is only a small part of the long series of reefs
which I have referred to in the chapter on the
Florida Keys. In places they are awash or show
a bit above the sea in low tides and along them

301

302 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

on either side the water varies in depth from a
few feet to six or seven fathoms.

In May, 1915 I was on the dredging yacht Eolis
on which her owner, Mr. John B. Henderson, with
a small party of friends were cruising among the
keys. One night we anchored just north of
Cesar’s Creek bank. On the following morning
the sky was clear and the water of Hawk Channel
was dead calm. Henderson proposed we visit
Ajax Reef in the launch to set traps for mollusks
and collect on the shoals. It was a wonderful
run across the channel; standing in the bow and
gazing down it seemed as though we were in an
aeroplane, swiftly skimming through the air thirty
or forty feet above the ground, so clear being the
water we could see the bottom as through a plate
glass. Only the ‘‘bone in the teeth” of the launch
and the wake of white water following made us
realize we were not actually flying.

In places the bottom was carpeted with a bottle-
green growth consisting of a couple of grasslike
plants, a Cymodoce or ‘‘manatee grass” and a
Thalassia or ‘“‘turtle grass.” Both are washed
ashore on our coasts in great abundance and are
wrongly called seaweed. Here and there we saw

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF 303

great rounded sponges of the size and shape of
pumpkins (Hippospongia) and occasionally a large
star fish—a Pentaceros. In other places the
bottom was of a smooth sandy mud without
any growth on it whatever.

Suddenly as we proceeded rapidly along, the
level floor of the sea changed and before us arose
two rounded knolls reaching up to within seven
or eight feet of the surface. Upon them grew
thickets—I almost said forests,—of corals and
Gorgonias or sea fans. They crowned the tops of
the hillocks and occupied areas along their sides
leaving spots of gleaming white, sandy bottom
between. We were going in an easterly direction
toward the morning sunlight which streamed
through the submarine valley and into these
masses of growth with a bewilderingly beautiful
effect. In and out among these lovely thickets
schools of the most gaudily and fantastically
colored fish lazed and drifted.

The number of these fishes was amazing, their
color and grace indescribable. Flashing just
above the reef were hundreds of a small fish never
over six inches long and shaped like the ‘‘ pumpkin
seed” of northern fresh waters, its color being of

304 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

a delicate yellowish green with five or six vertical
indigo bands. This little living jewel bears the
atrocious scientific name of Abudefduf saxatilis.
Anyone who would blight the life and reputation
of such a wonderful creature by calling it ‘‘ Abudef-
duf”’ ought to be barred from naming any more of
nature’s creations. And its common names of
“‘cow pilot” and ‘‘sergeant major” are not much
better. We ought to have a society for the pre-
vention of nomenclatural cruelty to animals.

Immense schools of the parrot fish (Scarus
ceruleus), much larger than the first, raced through
the water at terrific speed. It is rather stout in
build and is of an almost uniform turquoise blue.
Even more brilliant but rarer was a smaller fish of
a dazzling red (Priacanthus?) which was much less
bold than the parrot fish. It only appeared when
someone disturbed it in its hiding places. Re-
cently I have seen a statement of Professor W. H. :
Longley, who has made extensive studies of the
fishes of the Tortugas, that the red fishes at that
place are nocturnal. This would account for the
fact that this species was only seen when driven
out of its concealment.

There were ponderous brownish, variegated

Upper Cut. Abudefduf saratilis
Courtesy of the New York Zodlogical Society

Lower Cut. Coral Reef on Southeast Coast of Florida
Photo by Submarine Photo Company. Photo made under the sea

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF 305

groupers which hung about the deeper spots
among the gardens and shot through the water
so rapidly that they looked like a trail of smoke.
Among the remarkable forms was the ‘“‘ four
eyes” (Chetodon capistratus), a lovely little thing
of blue and brown markings, having a round,
black ‘‘eye”’ surrounded by a white border on
each side of the body just in front of the tail,
the whole set in a smoky brown patch. There
were two species of angel fish (Angelichthys)
which are certainly angelic in their scaly robes of
gorgeous color. There were ‘‘yellow tails,” ‘‘pork
fish,” ‘‘porgies,”’ “grunts,” ‘‘snappers,”’ and many
others, but the queen of them all and perhaps the
most gorgeous fish in the world was the rock
beauty (Holocanthus tricolor). ‘This superb crea-
ture is one of the Chetodonts or ‘‘butterfly”
fishes, a group well represented in Florida waters
and that contains a number of handsome species.
It attains a length of a foot, has a high body, the
ground color of which is jet black. The forward
part of the body, tail, pectoral, and hinder part
of the dorsal and anal fins are of a brilliant, deep
gold; there are markings of rich orange on the
dorsal and anal fins and around the gills, while

99 66 97 66

306 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the mouth is blue. According to Jordan and
Evermann’s Fishes of Middle and North America
this is not known from the waters of the United
States but it really is not rare on the southeast
coast of Florida.

We ran slowly over a diversified bottom, stop-
ping now and then to absorb and revel in the
strange and beautiful sight. What first strikes the
visitor to such a reef is the wonderful color scheme,
and then the amazing wealth of animal life. On
land a few birds may be seen in an ordinary land-
scape; a moderate number of butterflies and other
insects; a wild mammal of any kind is rarely en-
countered, but here are actually acres of living
things closely crowded together. There are hills
and dales of corals, and fields of sea fans, and
everywhere the gorgeous unbelievable fishes.

The foundations of all this edifice of animal
life are great rounded masses of corals, the As-
treans, eight to ten feet across. Among them,
and a little above in the structure of the reef,
are other coral heads (Meandrina) almost as large
but having their surfaces cut into intricate ridges.
They are called ‘‘brain corals” from the fact that
their surfaces so closely resemble the convolutions

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF — 307

of abrain. Other species grow in masses, having
irregular surfaces with wavy or scalloped borders—
Agaricias, perhaps; nearer the top are the more
delicate branching forms, the madrepores. The
color of most of these corals is a rich, warm brown,
but the exposed, growing edges are much lighter.
Porites, sometimes in masses or developing into
heavy club-shaped branches, are common. Then
there are the millepores, corals resembling some
of the more slender sponges, but growing in large
heads.

The Alcyonarians, which include the sea fans,
are everywhere in evidence growing out from the
masses of coral and often surmounting them; the
most abundant is Gorgonia flabellum, the ordinary
sea fan, either yellow or purple. Almost as num-
erous and equally beautiful is Gorgonia acerosa,
composed of slender branches instead of the lace-
like network of the first. There are two other
Gorgonias, one with heavier branches than ace-
rosa, and from which the corky substance near
the base falls away. All these Alcyonarians are
reef dwellers and live only in warm waters. They
are each a colony of polyps living upon a central,
horny, flexible axis, thus differing from the true

308 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

corals which are wholly calcareous. The color
may be purple, brown, or yellow, and they some-
times attain a height of several feet with pro-
portionate breadth. They are among the most
abundant and beautiful objects of the reefs,
From the fact that they simulate the form and
appearance of plants and possibly because they
sway to and fro with the motion of the water like
seaweeds, they are responsible for the name
“gardens of the sea” usually applied to living
coral reefs or patches.

Completely fascinated we drifted idly about,
gazing down and calling attention to the warty,
dull purple, sea cucumbers, the star fish, and the
many sea urchins including the Diademas with
their long, villainous violate-black spines. Cer-
tain species of sea urchins carve out holes in the
solid rocks for their abodes. It has been thought
these excavations were made by action of an acid
which the animal exuded, but Alexander Agassiz
maintains that the work is done mechanically, the
animal chiseling out the rock with its teeth. It
keeps turning around slowly cutting the hole or
depression to fit the shape of its extended armsor
spines. Some of the sea urchins bury themselves

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF — 309

quite deeply and eventually grow too large ever to
escape, thus making themselves prisoners for life.

Growing on the bottom in shallow places about
the reefs are beds of nullipores, some of which have
quite the appearance of sea fans but their color is
green and their structure stony. The commonest
of these is Halimeda tridens, which is made up of
angular, jointed pieces. Some of the numerous
alge growing on or in the vicinity of the reef are
exquisitely beautiful in form and color. One of
these (Acetabularia) looks exactly like a delicate,
slender-stemmed but very green little mushroom.
The stem may be at most three inches long and its
little cap attain a diameter of slightly over half
aninch. A colony of them on the sea bottom is a
charming sight. Some of the alge are red, others
may be purple, brown, or intense bluish green.
There is a wealth and diversity of life on this reef
to keep one interested and filled with wonder for
months.

But where are the mollusks or ‘‘shells,”’ as they
are commonly called? In passing let me say that
it is no more proper to apply this term of “‘shells”
to the mollusks than it would be to use it for
lobsters or turtles. The shell of a mollusk is

310 ~~“ IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

merely the hard, outer coating or external skeleton
that protects the animal. On a living coral reef
mollusks are most conspicuous by their absence
or by the invisibility of those present. It simply
is not a favorable station save for a few species
well concealed by their color markings. A dead
reef, on the contrary, is very rich in mollusks but
they are mostly carefully hidden. Ina newspaper
article I once read, the writer told of visiting a coral
reef and made statements which made me think he
had never seen a reef at all. Among other things
he said that the bottom was covered with the
loveliest, brightest, and most astonishing shells
(mollusks), that they clung to the corals and sea
fans, and fairly bespangled the submarine view as
do the stars in the heavens on a clear night. Some
of my conchologist friends would circle the earth
to find that reef.

It may be well to say a few words here about
protection among animals. Most of the members
of the animal kingdom are either pursuers or the
pursued, while many are both. It is the business
of the first to seize and devour the second and
of the second to elude the first. Hence the pur-
sued have to resort to many tricks and devices to

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF — 311

avoid their pursuers and to defend themselves.
In some cases the hunted ones so closely mimic
their surroundings or imitate the appearance of
some other animal that is never pursued, enough
of them manage to escape capture to perpetuate
the race. Most of the butterflies fly in zigzags,
so that a pursuing bird is apt to miss them.
Many have the under sides of the wings a dull or
dusky color so when they alight and fold them they
look exactly like the surface of the branch or tree
trunk on which they rest. A great many of them
(as well as other animals) have a nauseous taste
and no matter how gaudy their colors may be the
pursuers let them alone. When A. D. Brown, a
distinguished conchologist, was collecting land
snails in Haiti he noticed on the trees specimens of
a lovely green and gold Helicina. He wondered
why so conspicuous an animal should carelessly
expose itself to its enemies. But one day he had
occasion to put one in his mouth and he knew the
reason at once; it was bitter as gall! Other ani-
mals are armed for defense; still others may be
exceedingly swift of wing or foot or fin; all have
at least some means of eluding their foes.

Here on this reef the gorgeously colored fish

312 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS |

that display themselves so recklessly owe their’
safety partly to their swiftness and to the fact that.
they stick pretty closely to shelter. Let a shark
or barracuda appear and like a flash they are
gone or out of sight. Some of these reef fishes.
have the chameleon-like power to alter their colors
to harmonize with the bottom or the corals about
them. Longley has made photographs of reef.
loving hog fishes (Lachnolaimus maximus) shows;
ing different color phases; a lighter, more uniform!
color is assumed while hovering over sand and a
darker mottled tone and pattern when close to
broken corals and among gorgonians.

Some reef mollusks have. highly colored shells
and their flesh is perfectly palatable. Now: it.
would require a day for them to cover the same
distance a fish would in two seconds, indeed some
are fixed to their places and cannot move away at
all. If these were conspicuously scattered over the
floor of the reef, as the newspaper article set forth,
such helpless creatures would not last a day; they
would be exterminated between sunrise and sun-
set. ‘Though the reef mollusks are comparatively
few in species and numbers, they are nevertheless
there but the ordinary observer does not see them.

Hogfish (Lachnolaimus maximus) which Lives among Coral Reefs and Changes
Color in Accordance with that of the Bottom
Photo by Prof. W. H. Longley
Published by courtesy of New York Zodlogical Society

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF 313

There are several of the Arcas, typified by the
“Noah’s ark,” and all are attached to dead coral
masses or other hard objects by a ‘“‘byssus,’’—a
set of strong threads issuing from the foot of the
animal and securely fastened to its anchorage.
They are difficult to detect because they are almost
always encrusted with alge, hydrozoa, nullipores,
or calcareous matter. There are three or four
species of Lima with attractive white bivalve shells
and an inside mantle border of very brilliant
scarlet filaments, most gorgeous objects when ex-
posed to view. They build for themselves nests
of shell fragments, bits of coral and seaweed, so
cunningly constructed that their enemies search-
ing for thern but rarely get them. There are
three handsomely colored ‘‘micramocks” (Cypraza
spp.) that hide under the rocks and dead coral
slabs and so manage to maintain a dark back-
ground against which their dark-colored mantles
scarcely show. The Purpuras live on the reef
rocks, even those occasionally exposed at low tide,
but their pretty shells are most effectively con-
cealed with confervoid growths.

As soon as a growing reef reaches the level of
low tide the continual hammering of the breakers,

314 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

particularly during storms, breaks down the corals
and the fragments left are rolled and ground about
until they are reduced to sand and mud. The
dead portions of a coral reef are made up-of the
most inconceivably rough and irregular rock mass
with fragments of every size and shape scattered
about. Among these fragments but chiefly under
them thousands of mollusks and other marine
animals take refuge and live in comparative safety,
for no enemy is likely to overturn the rocks which
shelter them. The crevices fairly swarm with
life, crabs, sea urchins, star fish, mollusks, worms,
anemones, hydroids, and a vast number of others.
Break open any old mass of coral and in all pro-
bability it will contain a number of boring mol-
lusks,—Botulas, Pholads, Lithophagus, Gastro-
chenas and Saxicavas.

In the sandy or muddy patches of an old reef
may generally be found great white Tellinas and
Codakias, Strombus, the graceful little Colum-
bellas, Marginellas, and other interesting and
beautiful mollusks in great variety, but all so
hidden in one way or another that only a close
search will discover them. ‘There is a curious mol-
lusk an inch or more in length (Ultimus gibbosus)

Aajsucy “H 'M Aq OV0Ng
Bsoxaoe PIUOSIOD ‘Bag jedIdolyl & JO wWO}0g 9} 1V

THE WONDERS OF AJAX REEF 315

that lives on the sea fans. The lips of its shell
are rolled and folded in and it has a rather sharply
defined ridge around its center. The base and a
streak on the back are whitish while the sides are a
warm fawn color. It so closely harmonizes with
its host that, no doubt, it fools its enemies very
successfully. Another related form (Amphiperas
acicularis) is more slender and delicate; when it
grows on a yellow sea fan it is also yellow, when
on purple ones it is purple.

Among the Florida reefs life reaches its high
tide of strenuous existence; it attains to its zenith,
its noonday, its full glory. Nowhere is compe-
tition for food and existence more fierce than
among these low rocks and in these coral sands.
As a natural consequence here are to be seen and
studied the most varied and remarkable devices
for protection.

During a visit to Sand Key reef we all descended
by turns under a diving helmet which Mr. Hen-
derson had on board. This device consists of a
brass hood which encloses the head while resting
on the shoulders, so weighted and adjusted that
the wearer can walk with ease on the bottom or
study and collect his specimens while air is being

316 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

pumped down as into an ordinary diving suit.
Through a glass plate one can get an excellent
view about. With this aid one comes into the
closest contact with the reef and its marvelous
life; it was like entering into a new world—like
visiting another planet.

My visit to Ajax is an unforgettable experience.
It was my first sight of the marine knolls crowned
with ‘‘gardens” of corals and sea fans, with
sponges, hydroids, and alge all seen through a
clear luminous medium. What a riot of beauty!
What a swarming of life! What hynotic motion
of fish and swaying of vegetation. It is one of
my most precious memories.

CHAPTER XV

The Secrets of the Sea

and dredged during the months of May

and June with Mr. John B. Henderson of
Washington in his power boat the Eolis

in and about the Hawk Channel and on the
“Pourtales Plateau.’’ These trips were made
expressly for study and to collect the marine
fauna. They have afforded me exceptional oppor-
tunities for observation and the gathering of data.
The Hawk Channel, lying between the Florida
Keys and the reefs, has been described in another
chapter. The Pourtales Plateau is a long narrow
stretch of rock bottom lying some miles without
and parallel with the Florida reef. It begins
southwest of Sand Key and ends about opposite
the southern end of Key Largo. It lies just within
the edge of the Gulf Stream or between the 100-200

fathom lines.

F: a number of years past I have cruised

317

318 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

The plateau is named after Count L. F. Pour-
tales who discovered it many years ago and by his
dredging operations upon it has made it a classical
ground to naturalists. In the Hawk Channel the.
water is more or less protected by the outer reef;
the bottom is usually soft and supports in certain
localities a rich and abundant marine fauna.
The foundation of the plateau, on the other hand,
is a recent limestone built of remains of the count-
less marine organisms that have lived upon it.
Throughout the floor is an uneven complicated
surface and it fairly swarms with life. It is, how-
ever, So very rough and broken that all dredging
over it is most difficult.

The Eolis has a large cockpit aft which contains
the sounding and hoisting machinery, and in it
the dredged material is sifted, washed, and as-
sorted. The dredges we use consist of two strong,
parallel steel blades, either of which may scrape
the bottom, and these are held in place by two
heavy bars or standards, so that the whole forms a
frame seven or eight inches wide and thirty inches
to four feet long. The front parts of the blades
are hammered to an edge in order better to scrape
the bottom; a row of holes is punched along their

°
°

[fo
°

Outlines of Dredge. Upper Figure, Front View; a, a,
Blades for Scraping up Material from Bottom with
Perforations for Attaching Sack; c, c, Cross
Bars; b, b, Arms; d, Rings to which
Dredging Rope is Attached

Lower Figure, Side View; a, a, Scraping Blades; c, Bar
Fastened to Ends of Blades; b, b, Arms; d,
Ring; e, Rope; f, Outline of Sack

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 319

rear edges and to these a heavy knit sack is lashed
which drags behind and catches whatever is
loosened from the bottom. This sack is protected
by stout canvas lest it be torn as it drags over
the rocks. The dredge is drawn by two pairs of
round iron arms, the after ends of each being
turned around the standards at each end of the
dredge frame and they may be folded down over
its mouth when it is not in use. The forward end
of each pair of arms is bent into an eye and the
dredge rope issecurely fastened tooneof these. The
eye of the other pair is lashed to the rope with spun
yarn which will break under a severe strain, usually
allowing the whole to swing around and pull loose.
Theline used in dredging is 3¢ inch, of ‘‘plow”’ steel,
and of special make for flexibility and strength.

If the dredge be hauled too rapidly over the
bottom it will skip most of the material or per-
haps bury itself in some muddy place and in case
of meeting with rocks it will be badly damaged,
if not carried away and lost. The work requires
the greatest care and constant attention, especially
on the plateau where the powerful Gulf Stream
current and the waves of the open sea must be
reckoned with.

320 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

A deep-sea sounding lead with concave base
containing grease and attached to a piano wire is
lowered before every dredge haul. This gives a
depth record and a preliminary sample of the
bottom. <

With a boat the size of the Eolis it is only pos-
sible to dredge in the open sea when the weather
is good and it is reasonably smooth. So we gen-
erally sought a harbor every night. When work-
ing on the lower end of the Pourtales Plateau we
used Key West asa base. Dredging is not all fun
and relaxation by any means. Often for days at
a time the wind would blow too hard for outside
work and we would be compelled to content our-
selves with the light dredge inside the reef—gen-
erally with meager results. Given a suitable day,
sometimes we would make haul after haul in deep
water and get nothing. Occasionally the bag, as
if possessed by the devil, would get fouled over
the edges of the blades and come up after a long
laborious haul empty as it went down. Gen-
erally an experienced dredger can tell by putting
his hand on the rope what the machine below is
doing. Again it would come up, after having
badly fouled on the rocky bottom, twisted out of

uosispusH ‘gq uyof Aq ojoyg
SHO OUL

i os a

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 321

shape, but possibly containing valuable material,
and more than once we lost it altogether.

I think the gambling element must be strongly
developed in all of us, for every time we made an
unsuccessful haul the failure would seem to inspire
us with confidence in better luck next time.
Everyone on board is full of feverish expectancy
as the dredge is being hoisted up after a good
bumpy quarter of an hour on bottom. Far down
in the water a faint cloud is first seen —the mud
and sand washing out as it is steadily drawn up.
The cloud grows larger until at last the dredge
itself appears, its white ‘‘skirts’’ flashing in the
clear indigo-blue water far below. All are eager
to get it aboard and emptied and inspect the con-
tents. If there is a good haul it well repays for
the disappointment of many poor ones.

The season of 1916 had been a bad one. Day
after day the wind blew half a gale, so that we
could do nothing even in the harbor. On the two
or three occasions when we did get outside we
were either driven in by'a strong breeze springing
up or we had bad fouls on bottom or “water
hauls.’ Our time was drawing to a close and
we hadn’t made a single decent haul. One morn-

322 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

ing the sea was nearly calm, and Henderson de-
clared he was going out to try his luck among the
rocks of the plateau. ‘‘You'll lose a dredge if
you do,”’ said the Captain, but H. was firm in his
determination; and out we continued until we
were twelve miles south of Sand Key. The
sounding line showed a hundred and twenty
fathoms, rock, and the dredge was put over. In
due time it was hauled up and on watching for it
no cloud was seen, and we concluded that it had
fouled or that there was nothing loose on the bot-
tom. But when it appeared a most astonishing
sight met our eyes. It was full to overflowing
with a more wonderful quantity and variety of
deep sea life than we had ever seen in all our pre-
vious season’s hauls. It reminded one of the pic-
tures of the bag carried by Santa Claus with toys
sticking out in every direction.

Conspicuous among this material was a large
number of specimens of ‘‘stone lilies’’ of the genus
Antedon or Comatulids, belonging to the order of
crinoids. The crinoids swarmed in the seas of
early geological time, but their number has grad-
ually decreased until only a relatively few species
are known to inhabit the oceans of to-day. There

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 323

are two quite distinct groups of them existing in
our seas; the Comatulids or feather stars, in which
there is a lily-like head that is attached by a stem
to the bottom while the animal is young, the head
being severed in later life and swimming free.
The dorsal part of the body carries a number of
jointed, flexible processes by means of which the
animal can attach itself to any firm object. In
the other group, the true crinoids, the body re-
mains fastened by the long, flexible stem through-
out life. The former may be likened to a vessel
moored to a buoy and the latter to one that is
anchored.

No description can give an idea of the grace and
attractiveness of these animals, which retain much
of their beauty even when they have been torn
loose from the bottom and brought to the surface.
In life their long, elegantly jointed arms wave
freely in the water as the currents move over them,
and their resemblance to a bed of long-stemmed
lilies is no doubt striking. In the dredge were
many beautiful, strange, even grotesque crabs in
great variety, green, brown, red, bluish white, and
gray; there were equally interesting and curious
sea urchins with spines of strange and fantastic

324 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

forms. No less than five species of Brachyopods
or ‘‘lamp shells” were taken. Until quite re-
cently these were very rare in collections, as
comparatively few species inhabit shallow water,
but since the days of deep sea dredging expe-
ditions we know that they must be very abun-
dant in places. Like the crinoids they were very
abundant in Paleozoic oceans, but have been de-
clining since. They possess bivalve shells which
are always equal-sided but never equivalved, and
are provided internally with a pair of coiled arms.
Early authorities placed them with the mollusks
while others believed them to be related to the
worms, but modern systematists assign them to a
distinct zodlogical class of theirown. We dredged
them in great numbers, usually in large clusters
much like bunches of amber colored grapes and,
as one of our party remarked, looking good enough
to eat. Some of them were very large for lamp
shells, being nearly two inches in diameter.
There were a number of exceedingly interesting
single corals; one or two exquisite Hydroids; sea
anemones, those flowers of the ocean, but so
tightly closed and covered with foreign matter
that at first we overlooked them. We got many

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 325

strange and curious worms and mollusks by the
hundreds. Among the latter were elegantly fringed
Murices with a long spire and many spines (Murex
beaui), and a rare species of the same group be-
longing to a Pacific race. There were lovely Mi-
crogazas, whose depressed, iridescent shells look
like flattened pearls; and then red spotted Volutes of
three species, and elegantly variced Scalas (notably
Epitonium pernobilis). The genus Scala is repre-
sented in collections by the well known royal wentle-
trap (S. pretiosa) from Oriental seas, which was
formerly greatly prized on account of its beauty
and rarity, fine specimens having at one time
brought as much as two hundred guineas. But
our perfect specimen of Epitonium pernobilis is as
fine, and its specific name is aptly applied. It is
one of the most beautiful shells in the world, and
one of the rarest, as only three or four have ever
been taken. Its pure white, rounded whorls, which
scarcely come in contact, are well set off with nu-
merous wide frilled varices, each of which ends in a
point above, thus forming a perfect crown.
During the year 1869 a series of dredgings was
made under the direction of Count Pourtales by
the U..S. Fish Commission steamer Bzbb in the

326 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Strait of Florida. The mollusks secured were
sent to Washington and later to William Stimpson
in Chicago, a distinguished naturalist, who was to
study and report on them. Before he was able to
do so the entire collection was destroyed in the
great fire. While the shells were in Washington
Dr. W. H. Dall was greatly surprised to find
among them a small Haliotis or ‘‘sea ear.” These
mollusks have their metropolis in the Pacific and
Indian oceans. Hitherto Haliotis had only been
found (one species) in the Atlantic along the
western coast of Africa. The discovery of one
of, these mollusks in Floridian waters was a great
conchological event. Later Dr. Dall published
from memory a description of this destroyed shell,
naming it Haliotis pourtalesi in honor of its dis-
coverer. Years later the Albatross dredged a
Haliotis in the Galapagos which Dr. Dall referred
to this species with some doubt. About five
years ago Mr. Henderson dredged a Haliotis on
the Pourtales Plateau which was submitted to
Dr. Dall, who unhesitatingly pronounced it to be
co-specific with the original shell which had been
destroyed. On comparing the Haliotis obtained
by Mr. Henderson with the Galapagos specimen

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 327

it was at once seen that though much alike they
belonged to different species. So Mr. Henderson
renamed the Pacific shell in honor of Dr. Dall.
The Florida Haliotis is quite attractive, the outer
part being waxy yellow with patches of orange and
the interior a brilliant pearl. As only this speci-
men dredged by Mr. Henderson and a few other
fragments obtained by him are known it is one of
the rarest shells in the world. Since it was ob-
tained at a depth of ninety fathoms and all the
dredging on this plateau has only yielded so few
of them it is likely that it will always be rare.

Many of the shells of these deep sea mollusks
are richly iridescent; others have a delicate
shagreen, caused by an outer pearly layer of
minute knobs or spines which gives them their
sheen. Among shells so marked were several
small cockles (Cardium peramabile), which in per-
fect condition looked like pearls. Some of the
Gazas, which belong to the Trochus family, are
most exquisite gems, and well might be worn as
ornaments.

Perhaps the most astonishing thing we took was
an Ophiuran or ‘“‘brittle star,” one of the Echino-
derms, and related to the starfishes. The Ophi-

328 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

urans differ from the true starfishes by having
a central disk from which radiate five slender
arms which may or may not be branched. The
species are mostly small but some of the specimens
we dredged had the amazing length from tip to tip
of opposite arms of two and a half feet! One
might easily fancy them the hubs and spokes of
Neptune’s chariot wheels.

We were all delighted over these wonderful
things, and Mr. Henderson declared this Ophiuran
was new to science. He said, ‘‘Won’t Professor
Clark”’ (the echinoderm expert at the Smithsonian)
‘be astonished over this? He'll surely have a fit
when he sees them!’’ In Washington H. hastened
at once to Clark and proudly exhibited the
trophies,—undoubtedly new and the largest in
the world. Clark had no fit at all; he didn’t even
fall off his chair; in fact, he seemed but mildly
interested.

Finally Clark observed quietly: ‘‘Your speci-
mens are quite interesting, but we have others
from the Pacific which measure about ten feet
across!” It is related that H. required restora-
tives.

All the animals which came up alive appeared

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 329

dazed when dumped out of the dredge into the
screen, and we may well presume that they were
dazed. Even in this subtropical sea the water
at a depth of a hundred to a hundred and fifty
fathoms is cold, and only a half twilight reigns
there during the hours of brightest sunshine.
These creatures, suddenly snatched from the sea
bottom, had been hauled up through six or eight
hundred feet of water and diminishing pressure and
thrown out into the hot air and dazzling sunlight.
Some of them feebly crawled about in the helpless
way that bees do when their smoked-out hive is
rifled of its honey. The more delicate creatures
were already dead when turned out of the dredge.
No description can give a perfect idea of the
richness, variety, and strangeness of the animal
life brought up in this and many subsequent hauls
we made. We could not realize that such wealth
of deep water life existed within but a few mules
of Key West, and but a furlong below the deck
on which we stood. Accustomed to the shallower
water, fauna of the reefs and adjacent sea bottom
which we knew, it seemed we must be collecting
on some other planet where all life is different.
Many of these forms are “‘old fashioned,”

330 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

reminding one constantly of fossil species of the
Tertiary age. In the quiet, cold, dark region
where the deep sea animals live there is little
change in environment from century to century,
or from one geological age to another. As the
struggle for existence is probably much less fierce
than in shallow water or on the land it is not
strange that a large number of ancient types
belonging to past ages have persisted in their
unchangeable surroundings.

For several happy days the weather was all we
could desire and we continued our hectic dredging
success. But at last we were reluctantly com-
pelled to bid good-by to the Pourtales Plateau, but
not before the Captain’s prediction came true.
Our best heavy dredge became hopelessly en-
tangled in the rocks and no amount of maneuver-
ing would loosen it, so we finally had to cut off one
hundred and twenty fathoms of precious rope and
abandon the whole thing.

What a thrilling thing it would be to go down to
such a sea bottom and observe these animals in
their homes. We can only at best scratch a little
here and there and get a few handfuls of them; we
can merely guess at their habits and environment.

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 331

No doubt there are very many forms that all our
labor has failed to bring to light, but readily find-
able if only we could go among them; but we shall
never be able to do this. The pressure of the
water down there is so great it would crush any
apparatus we could devise to protect us. Inves-
tigators differ as to the depth to which the light of
the sun penetrates into the sea, some saying it is
less than a hundred fathoms and others that it
is twice that. Much depends, no doubt, on the
clearness of the water and the directness of the
sun’s rays, but it is probable that at one hundred
and fifty fathoms, the greatest depth at which we
dredged, there is either total darkness or merely
the faintest twilight at noonday.

One naturally wonders how it is possible so
amazing a quantity and variety of animal life can
exist in a region so cold and dark and below the
limit of plant existence. On the Pourtales Plateau
there is an overwhelming abundance of food, for
the region lies just at the Tropic of Cancer, and as
Grant Allen has remarked, ‘‘The tropics are bio-
logical headquarters.” The Gulf Stream sweeps
over it constantly bringing pure, warm water
literally swarming with minute life. Most of this

332 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

is pelagic, that is, it floats and swims either on or
comparatively near the surface and is carried about
in the sea without fixed abode.

Besides those larger pelagic forms already
mentioned (Janthinas, the Physalia or Portuguese
man-of-war, the Vellelas and Porpitas) there are
hosts of smaller Medusz, and unnumbered mil-
lions of Pteropods, many of the latter having
exquisitely beautiful hyaline or glassy little shells.
Among-these pelagic mollusks are the Hyaleas,
the Creseis, which look like silvery needles, and
the Cuvierias, whose tests resemble dainty little
chalices. There is an infinite variety of Proto-
zoans, and among them the Noctilucas which fur-
nish much of the phosphorescence of the sea.
The floating gulf weed (Sargassum nutans) bears a
wealth of life, especially small crustaceans and
mollusks. Many of these pelagic animals are
very short lived, but they reproduce marvelously.
According to Alexander Agassiz some of the
Copepods, which are minute crustaceans, have no
less than thirty generations in three weeks.

These pelagic animals are constantly dying, and
it is aptly said there is always a gentle rain of food
falling over the bottom of the ocean. Besides

THE SECRETS OF THE SEA 333

that which falls as a ‘‘rain”’ a great amount of food
stuff is washed out from the littoral regions, where
it decays very slowly in the cold waters of the
deeper ocean. It is stated on good authority that
over wide areas on or near the sea bottom it forms
a sort of broth, a veritable free soup kitchen. So
the food is amply provided, and it is not necessary
for the animals which swarm in this part of the
sea to make any great effort to obtain it. It
reminds one of people in the tropics lying under
the trees and having fruit fall into their mouths.
It is probable that still other conditions favor
the development of life in this intermediate
‘farchibenthal’’ zone which lies on the border of
the abyssal or profoundly deep regions. Many
of these animals have been so gradually driven
from the warm, sunlit shallows of the littoral
region into the deeper waters that in all prob-
ability they find the want of heat and light no
drawback to their existence. In some cases deep
sea animals are blind, the eyes having been re-
duced to mere rudiments because they were no
longer needed; in others the organs of sight are
wonderfully developed, so that they probably see
quite well in a dim light. Many of the forms of

334 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS ,

this region are highly phosphorescent, and doubt-
less in places they are sufficiently abundant on the
bottom to furnish enough light for others to see.
Tt may be wondered why in this darkness or
semi-darkness there is any rich coloring among
the animals, and the reason is not clear. There is
much to be learned about the economy of color in
organic life. Some of the more adventurous of
the littoral forms may have migrated slowly into
deeper water and, in other cases, animals of the
shallows unable to compete with stronger forms,
may have been driven to where conditions are
more favorable. Where this migration has been
recent, color and other shoal water characters
(though no longer needed) would still persist.
Many of these deep sea animals possess a peculiar
red which Alfred Mayer says shows black in the
depths, hence it may be protective. At all events
the majority of mollusks we took on the Pourtales
Plateau are neutral in color scheme, or develop
a pearly sheen probably protective in a dim light
or feeble phosphorescent glow. The most striking
exception among our catch is that of the Volutas—
but Voluta is a shallow water genus, and our three
species are likely recent residents of the darker zone.

CHAPTER XVI
The Story of the Land Snails

HE land snails of Lower Florida, like

most of its animals and plants, form a

mixed assemblage of various origins.

A few minute species are derived from

the northern States; a considerable number pro-

bably migrated here from the Texas tegion, and

perhaps half of our fifty species had their origin
in the American tropics.

It has been generally held by biologists that
life originated in the sea, from which it spread to
the land; we have excellent support for this theory
in our own mollusks. Several of our Littorinide,
marine gastropod mollusks with spiral shell, gills
and an “‘operculum”’ or lid that closes the aper-
ture, live, for the most part, on land near the sea.
One strictly gill breathing species (Littorina
angulifera) becomes actually arboreal on the man-

335

336 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS,

grove trees, and only occasionally descends to the
water to moisten itself.

In the warmer parts of the world a great number
of mollusks have gone a step farther (Cyclosto-
mide and allies), for they have left the sea alto-
gether, and though they retain the operculum the
gill has become modified into a sort of breathing
sac or lung. At least four such species are found
within the United States, doubtless derived from
the American tropics. Most of our land snails
have become pulmonates, that is they breathe
by means of a simple lung, and they have not only
developed this from the breathing sac but have in
almost all cases lost the operculum.

Many of our terregtrial snails are provided with
a remarkable set of calcareous ‘‘teeth”’ and lamel-
le in the throat and aperture of the shell, and these,
doubtless, serve to protéct the animal from attacks
of carnivorous beetles. In some cases this forti-
fication is amazingly intricate, a veritable Cretan
labyrinth, almost as complicated as the lock of a
modern burglar-proof safe, and ong might suppose
that the animal would sometimes forget the com-
bination and be unable to find its way out. Occa-
sionally these ‘‘teeth” are crowded close together

Polygyra auriculata, the Aperture Remarkably Con-
torted to Prevent the Entrance of Predatory
Beetles

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 337

and extend almost to the center of the opening, so
that there are only narrow fissures left between
them, while the sharp-edged lamellz are almost
as much convoluted as the lobes of a brain. It
is interesting to watch one of these creatures
emerging to crawl, for it seems actually to flow out
of the aperture as if it were composed of very
thick syrup. The teeth and lamella make deep
impressions in the body as it moves out past
them, but after getting by the constricted aper-
ture the snail’s body immediately resumes its
proper rounded form.

That this armature is developed to prevent
beetles from entering and devouring the animal
seems well proven. Pilsbry has shown this by the
evidence furnished by two groups of land snails of
the genus Pleurodonte which inhabit the Andean
region of South America. One of these groups
called Labyrinthus, on account of the remarkable
development of teeth and lamelle in its aperture
inhabits the hot lowlands of this area, where car-
nivorous beetles are abundant. The other and
nearly related group (Isomeria) of the same genus
is found only on the mountains where beetles are
few. Their shells have only rudimentary teeth

338 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

and lamella. There is evidence to show Isomeria
has developed from Labyrinthus. The aperture
armature being no longer needed became dwarfed
or rudimentary, or even wholly absent.

The land snails of the Northern States live on
the ground, usually under leaves, stones, or logs,
but in tropical and semi-tropical countries some
of them are strictly arboreal and many others are
partly so. In the pine woods of southeastern Flor-
ida several species hide under the rocks during the
dry season, and often crawl a short distance up
the trunks of the trees in wet weather. Along the
sandy land of the outer beaches two forms are
abundant which, during the rainy season, climb
up the low scrub. One of these is a Cerion, with
a cylindrical white shell which was probably
derived from the Bahamas. Several years ago
I was at the shore near the head of Biscayne Bay
where I found dead shells of this species in great
numbers, but no living ones. I searched in vain
the bushes and grass. Finally I stumbled over a
tussock of dead grass overturning it, and among
its roots were hidden hundreds of the little fellows.
As the weather was quite cold they had doubtless
hidden in these half buried roots for protection.

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 339

We have a Euglandina, with a somewhat elon-
gated form, which in northern Florida attains a
length of three inches; the shell is a beautiful rose
color. It is wholly carnivorous and a most aggres-
sive mollusk. It attacks, kills, and eats any ground
snails it meets, and if it cannot get anything else
it will devour its own species,—an out and out
cannibal.

Two species of Oxystyla (O. reses and O. flori-
densis) are found in the extreme lower part of our
State, and they are among our largest and finest
land snails. Both are strictly arboreal, the latter
often having a shell an inch and a half in diameter
and two and a half in length. I have never seen
quite so large specimens of the former, which is
much the rarer of the two, and is confined to the
lower part of the Florida Keys. Both have glossy
shells with a whitish ground and brown markings.
Three species of Liguus belong within our territory,
and they have shells almost as large as the Oxy-
stylas; in fact occasional specimens reach a length
of two and three quarter inches, but they lack in
diameter.

Some of the shells of our Florida Liguus are
among the most beautiful and richly painted of

340 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

any in the world. For the most part they are
perfectly smooth and glossy, looking as if freshly
varnished, or like finely painted porcelain. In the
following list of their principal color schemes it
must be understood that ‘‘revolving bands’ are
belts of color that spirally follow the growth of
the shell from its apex to the aperture.

Pure white or whitish throughout.

White with brilliant green, revolving bands, usu-
ally narrow but rarely very broad.

White with bronze, or brown, or brown and green
revolving bands.

White with yellow, orange, or, orange and brown
revolving lines and bands.

White with broad, very dark brown, or black
bands, the upper sides of which may be richly
flamed.

Purplish white with brownish or rose colored bands
and markings. ,

White with narrow green and broad orange revolv-
ing bands.

Rich rose, variously marked with darker color.

Yellow, from straw color to deep gold, sometimes
shaded a peculiar brown.

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 341

Yellow variously banded with green, bronze, or
brown.

Orange to orange scarlet, becoming darker at the
aperture.

Dark brown to almost black, sometimes blotched
with yellow or white.

Black or very dark brown, almost uniform color.

On the Lower Keys there is a form with yellow
ground and a brown revolving band, also a broken
band and flames of bluish. From Miami southward
there is a race of Liguus with such remarkably
varied patterns I am unable to describe it. The
ground color may be golden through a number of
shades to purplish brown. This is often banded
with very dark brown, or it may have a wide semi-
transparent belt which seems to be laid over the
other colors. In places this has a greenish tint,
in others it is more nearly blue. The whole shell
has irregular vertical or sub-vertical markings,
flames and zigzags of whitish yellow or some shade
of pale brown and there may be narrow, revolving
brown lines. A handful of these beauties is simply
stunning, the assemblage of color is almost un-
believable. Among these chief color patterns

342 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

there may be infinite variety, the result in most
cases of hybridization. Some of these interme-
diates seem to be crosses between half a dozen
different forms and having imperfect color features
of all.

One wonders why these shells are so richly
painted, for evidently this brilliant color must be
a decided disadvantage, if not actually disastrous.
I have seen thousands of fresh dead shells lying on
the ground which had been broken by the beaks
of birds for the succulent animal within. Usually
these were the more brightly colored specimens;
rarely have I seen a dark, dull colored shell broken
in this way, thus proving that death loves a
shining mark. This apparently is an argument
in favor of protective mimicry. The birds see the
bright snails and destroy them; they do not see
the dull colored ones. Do the brilliantly colored
snails rely on their shells for protection only to be
deceived?

Even to one of no especial interest in natural
history the sight of large, handsome arboreal
snails clinging to the trunks or branches of trees is
startling, but to the enthusiastic conchologist it is
simply thrilling; it fairly turns his head. At the

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 343

time of my first visit to Jamaica, Henderson and I
were driving out from Kingston in order to have
our first look about and possibly to do a little
collecting. In passing a low scrub forest we saw a
specimen of the fine Oxystyla undata attached to a
limb of a near-by tree. We both shouted, and ina
second had jumped from the vehicle and were
racing toward it. We rushed through a hedge of
villainous pinguin plants and up the tree; securing
the prize; we discovered the tangle of thorny scrub
woods were full of them. In half an hour we had
two hundred fine specimens. We had made a
fair and satisfactory exchange—two perfectly good
suits of clothes ruined for the Oxystylas.

In the late summer and fall these snafls lay
their eggs, which are elliptical, about a quarter of
an inch long, and have a calcareous shell. They
come down from the trees to deposit these eggs
in the ground, under leaves or even in decaying
wood on the floor of the hammock. After the
laying period many of the animals die. In late
autumn the ground is sometimes strewed with
fresh, dead shells of both Oxystyla and Liguus.
In spring the eggs hatch and the little snails
at once ascend the trunks of trees, where they

344 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

live on the minute alge and fungi. During
the cool, dry part of the year they remain dor-
mant; ‘‘estivate’’ as it is called. This is analo-
gous to the hibernation of various animals in our
northern winters, though it is probable that dur-
ing estivation in the tropics the vital functions
do not so nearly cease as in the winter sleep of the
colder parts of the world. The Liguus and Oxy-
stylas exude from the mantle a mucus which hard-
ens like glue and attaches the aperture so firmly
to the trees that the shell will often break when one
roughly attempts to remove it. Sometimes dur-
ing warm, damp weather in winter the awakened
Liguus partially dissolve this epiphragm, as it is
called’ and become for a time active, but when it
turns cool and dry again they resume estivation.
In many cases the Liguus pass their inactive period
on trunks or limbs of trees in open sight, but they
generally seek to hide away in crevices or under
the loose bark. This is especially true of the Oxy-
stylas, and sometimes as many as twenty will be
found huddled together on the inside of a hollow
tree.

With the beginning of the rainy season, or a
little before, the tree snails become active and the

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 345

shell grows rapidly, the first growth being thin and
transparent. At the close of the rains the Oxy-
stylas form a dark border around the mouth of the
shell, but the Liguus rarely and then to a much
less extent. The first season’s growth may con-
sist of from four to six turns or whorls, the second
of perhaps a little less than one whorl, and after
that the growths are short. By counting these
rest marks it is possible to guess at the age of the
snail, which under favorable circumstances prob-
ably lives four or five years.

All our Liguus and Oxystylas are derived from
the American tropics, the former from Cuba, and
the latter, no doubt, from a species of rather wide
Antillean and tropical American distribution. In
another chapter I have given reasons for believing
that there has been no land passage between Cuba
and Florida since the present life has existed. So
far as we know the animals and eggs of these tree
snails sink in salt water, and it is hardly possible
that birds or hurricanes could have transported
them. But in some way they must have made a
considerable sea voyage, and the manner in which
they have accomplished this is of great interest.
These and other tropical snails must have been

346 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

transported by floating material; probably on the
very trees which were their homes, in bamboos or
as eggs in old or decaying logs.

Throughout the American tropics the giant
bamboo (Bambusa vulgaris) grows abundantly,
especially along streams. During times of flood
great masses of it are often washed out and carried
down by the current to be stranded along the
valleys. After lying awhile the upper, thin-walled
joints begin to decay and split up. The ground
snails like to hide in cool, moist, dark places, so
these dead bamboos become their favorite resort.
C. B. Adams, who collected extensively in Jamaica,
states that he found quantities of them in these
upper joints. Perhaps during the next or a sub-
sequent rainy season some of these prostrate bam-
boos are again washed away and carried out to
sea, bearing their cargo of living snails. The
heavier mass of fibrous roots holds a large amount
of earth and stones which tend to sink the whole,
but the thick-walled lower joints are still air tight
and sustain the entire clump. I once saw in a
small bay on the north side of Jamaica a number
of these great bamboos floating in the water.
There had been a torrential rain, and they evidently

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 347

had been swept down a much swollen stream into
the bay. Their stems were standing almost erect,
and they could have easily carried for thousands
of miles a cargo of living snails at a safe height of
five to twenty feet above the sea.

It is easy to believe that decaying logs in tropi-
cal forests might be a means of dispersing mol-
lusks. Some of the ground snails live on such
logs, and arboreal species as already stated lay
their eggs in their crumbling surfaces. These
logs are washed out in time of violent rains and
carried out to sea like the bamboos. Living trees
too with snails attached are torn out and swept
seaward by the same means. From Cape Saint
Roque to well up in the Caribbean the sea in many
places is eating constantly into the alluvial shore
and undermining thousands of acres of virgin for-
est. I have seen such timber being so undermined
along the Honduras coast. Every hard storm
would loosen a number of these and set them
adrift. ‘Through a long voyage some limbs might
remain entirely out of water or only be occasionally
immersed. Darwin states that he placed several
species of land snails in sea water for seven days
and that they suffered noinjury whatever. On one

348 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

occasion I immersed a lot of Liguus in fresh water
and after they had been kept beneath the surface
for thirty hours I found nearly all were alive and
able to crawl away as though nothing had hap-
pened. Some of them remained attached to the
pieces of wood to which they clung when put in
during the entire immersion.

Suppose that decaying logs, bamboos or living
trees bearing snails or their eggs were thus carried
out to sea from Cuba or other West Indian islands
into the Gulf Stream; that after a voyage of some
weeks or even months the whole were cast high
and dry on the Florida Keys or the southeast
coast of our State, there would be absolutely noth-
ing to prevent them from crawling off the packet
on which they took passage and establishing them-
selves as immigrants into the United States.
There would be no custom house or need for
naturalization papers.

Floating islands consisting of vegetation in large
masses are carried to sea by tropical rivers. Such
islands have been seen in the Atlantic as far north
as Nova Scotia, and these undoubtedly carry land
snails or their eggs. It may be urged that such
a combination of favorable circumstances could

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 349

but very rarely occur, but time is long and snails
are patient, and what might not happen to-day or
this year or this century might take place a good
many times in ten or twenty thousand years.
There are certain keys in Lower Florida where all
the conditions seem perfectly fit for Liguus, but
the most careful search does not discover any
trace or sign of them; it is probable that these
snails were never landed on their shores in such
manner that they could become established.

Having once become colonized on the keys or
in some hammock near the shore on the mainland
it is of interest to know how the snails pass from
one island to another or from hammock to ham-
mock. Mr. Charles Mosier, who has lived for
several years on Paradise Key in the Everglades
and who has had exceptional opportunities for
studying the Liguus, tells me that he has seen
crows carrying them in their beaks during flight
with intention no doubt of eating them. One
of these with eggs dropped on an island or in a
hammock would most likely start a new colony.
Hurricanes might also account for much local
dispersal.

The arboreal snails live in the hammocks be-

350 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

cause in them there is shade, moisture, an abun-
dance of food and opportunity to conceal them-
selves. These are lacking in the pine woods, and
even if conditions were favorable the frequent for-
est fires would destroy them. I have seen Liguus
crawling through the pine lands on several occa-
sions during wet weather and at a considerable
distance from any hammock. I have also seen
specimens crawling directly away from my own
little hammock out into the pine forest! Once
while raining heavily I found a Liguus crawling
on the ground among the pine trees more than a
hundred feet from a hammock. I marked the
spot and the next day, which was fair, it had
crawled on several feet, climbed a weed and was
apparently inactive. Again I marked its location
and the following day, which was rainy, I found it
fully twenty-five feet farther on and away from
the hammock. At another time I found a Liguus
beside an abandoned road in the pine woods and
marked its position. In half an hour it had crossed
the road, a distance of eight feet, which is not bad
going for a snail. In the course of a rainy season
then a Liguus could cover the distance between
two quite widely separate hammocks. Of course

THE STORY OF THE LAND SNAILS 351

many, if not most, of these migrants are destroyed
by enemies while on the march, and the majority
escaping such an end fail to find any hammock and
perish; but in the course of time some—even but
one—must reach the goal. Thus they have crossed
easily an open space in my grounds (formerly pine
land) and become completely established among
my cultivated trees a hundred feet from my ham-
mock. Dr. Hiram Byrd informs me that when he
bought his place in Lower Dade County there were
Liguus on the citrus and other trees about his
house which presumably had come from a ham-
mock a quarter of a mile away.

There is something very courageous about these
little fellows who leave their sheltered homes,
their food, and companions and set forth to wander
in the hostile pine woods in an effort to find a new
hammock. They forsake all and risk all in
answering the call of one of the strongest animal
instincts—the founding of new colonies, the ex-
tension of their race.

Cuba has been occupied from one end to the
other with handsome Liguus, though it is probable
that none of them equal some of our forms in vivid
coloring. Our entire stock has doubtless been

352 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

derived from that island and is the result of num-
erous migrations. Several of our varieties show
close relation to certain ones of Cuba but some
of ours seem very distinct from any Cuban forms.

The doom of our beautiful arboreal snails is
undoubtedly sealed, for everywhere in our region
the hammocks are being rapidly destroyed by
man. The building of the railroad over the Keys
has hastened their destruction and the Liguus and
Oxystylas once so abundant there are now almost
extinct. The very presence of the white man
seems fatal to them and they fade away before
him as most savage races have done.

CHAPTER XVII
The Beauty of the Night

HE night to many is merely a period of
darkness, a cessation from labor, an
opportunity to sleep. To the naturalist
it is a time when nature reveals some

of her closest secrets, when she displays many
charms withheld from the light of day. There is
anerve tension approaching exaltation produced
by the tropic darkness, by the atmosphere of
vagueness and uncertainty and by familiar objects
bewitched into fantastic forms. To walk in one’s
grounds at night is to discover a new world; the
trees are larger, their forms have changed and
their well-known branches are shapeless blots
against the sky. Unexpected noises startle and
almost terrify one. The day birds have gone to
rest and a new and different set have taken their
places, as if Nature were working her employees
in shifts. We may not see them but we are aware
of their presence.
23 353,

354 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

The night is peopled by busy little folk as
intently carrying on their loves and labors as are
those of the day. In February or March the
chuck-will’s-widow (Antrostomus carolinensis)
appears, at first sparingly, but later abundantly.
From early twilight until sunrise, rarely after,
the males pour out their discordant song. I know
no bird so earnest about securing a mate; hence
their terrible clatter. They are like those who use
many repetitions in their prayers that they may
be heard for much speaking. One of these birds
will repeat his ‘‘chuck-will’s-widow” at a mod-
erate rate for a long time and end by calling it as
rapidly as possible, then for a little while he must.
cease from sheer exhaustion. One would think
the female would capitulate rather than listen to
such singing.

This bird almost entirely replaces here the much
pleasanter voiced whippoorwill of the north.
Those who have lived here a long time and watched
the birds closely tell me they have never heard the
whippoorwill, but it does in fact inhabit our part
of the country. Once or twice a season I catch its
lonely, plaintive call. The night hawk (Chor-
deiles virginianus) is not at all rare. When wan-

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 355

dering about in the darkness one of these birds
may swoop down in its chase after moths and utter
its loud, discordant ‘‘peent.”” It is quite enough to
make one’s hair stand on end. Rarely the screech
owl (Otus asio) pours out its long wavering trill,
which like the notes of most owls is decidedly
mournful. Around old or abandoned buildings
one may occasionally hear the squawk of a barn
owl (Aluco pratincola) or possibly catch a glimpse
of him as he flits noiselessly by hunting his prey.
The frogs are much in evidence at night and
their cries are always welcome to him whose ear is
attuned to the voices of nature, but their notes are
not melodious. In his delightful Natural His-
tory of Selbourne Gilbert White says: ‘‘Sounds
do not always give us pleasure according to their
sweetness and melody; nor do harsh sounds always
displease. We are more apt to be captivated or
disgusted with the associations which they pro-
mote, than with the notes themselves. Thus the
shrilling of the field cricket though sharp and
stridulous, yet marvelously delights some hearers,
filling their minds with a train of summer ideas of
everything that is rural, verdurous, and joyous.”
In the north frog music is one of the earliest and

356 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

most delightful harbingers of spring, that of some
species beginning before the ice is fairly melted
from the streams and ponds; little of it is heard in
mid-summer. Here such music is rare in the dry
spring months but as soon as the early summer
rains flood the low places the nights resound with
frog music, and the clacking, snoring, screaming,
and gurgling are heard from dusk to dawn. One
cannot listen to these little songsters without feel-
ing that they are intensely happy as no doubt they
are. .

Now and then the deep voice of the bullfrog
(Rana catesbyana) is heard, a voice of such power
that it sometimes carries for miles. To me its
note, uttered at intervals sounds like ‘‘o-onk,
o-onk,’’ while to others it is variously interpreted
as ‘‘br’wum,”’ ‘‘be drowned,” or ‘‘more rum.” It
is probable that its note varies a little in different
localities (it has an immense range in the United
States), and as animals do not have the power of
articulating sounds distinctly their notes sound
differently to different hearers. This song—for-

give the term—is a sort of tremendous musical
grunt, impressing one with the idea of unlimited
lung power. No wonder that its voice is powerful

Orystyla floridensis Estivating in Hollow Tree. In Such a Location
they are Comparatively Safe from All Enemies.
Hammock near Flamingo
Photo by Dr. John K. Small

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 357

for the creature attains a length of eight inches
and is very massive. There are probably two
other Ranas which help to make up this summer
chorus in Lower Florida, one of them being a form
of the common, widely distributed green frog
(Rana virescens) the note of which consists of a
single syllable repeated several times, a sort of
“‘chock, chock.”

In all probability a part in this chorus is sung by
an animal that is neither frog nor toad but a sort
of intermediate (Scaphiopus holbrooki). It is
widely distributed in the Eastern and Southern
States and usually inhabits temporary pools
formed by heavy rains. It utters exceedingly
clear sharp silvery peeps in rapid succession when-
ever it is disturbed. Abbott says of this wonder-
ful musician: ‘‘The machinery for producing
sounds is equal to an ordinary steam whistle and
is apparently confined to the throat.’”” The notes
are so strong and clear that they may be heard
from a train as it rushes by, and one is inclined to
believe it to be the song of some bird.

Some of the music of this nocturnal serenade
may be produced by the tree frogs. In the great
chorus I have sometimes distinguished as many as

358 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

seven or eight different calls, though it is difficult
to separate and identify them. In the brackish
swamp I have occasionally heard at night a
contralto frog note which sounds to me like
““gul, gul, gul; gul guggle, gul guggle” slowly
repeated several times. I know of no sweeter,
more charming sound in all nature than the song
of this frog, and it must be a stony hearted female
that would be deaf to it. I have only heard it a
few times and it’s author is so shy I have never
been able to discover him, nor can I learn its
name though it is probably a Hyla. Whoever
has the opportunity of hearing this low sweet call
may consider himself fortunate.

One of the agreeable notes in the frog concert
is the long-drawn and, to me, musical ‘‘mr-r-r-r-r-r”
or ‘“‘mree-e-e-e-e” of a variety of the common
toad (Bufo lentiginosus). One cannot help won-
dering how so homely a creature can have such a
delightful song. In fact the whole medley of this
batrachian symphony is, to the real lover of nature,
charming and. thrilling.

During the late winter and early spring the fire-
flies, those stars of the fields, are very abundant
in our hammocks and low grounds. Our com-

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 359

monest species is probably one of wide range in
the United States (Photinus ardens), being found
as far north as Indiana. In its case both names
are very appropriate. ‘‘Photinus’’ means shin-
ing and ‘‘ardens”’ to glow or burn, so this little
insect gets a good advertisement with each name.
It is a slender, brown beetle, the elytra or wing
covers being bordered with dull buff and the
shield of the thorax extends forward so that look-
ing at it from above the head is entirely covered
as by an umbrella. The light-giving apparatus is
located in two segments of the abdomen and is
composed of fatty tissue, which is burnt without
sensible heat, at the time of showing the light, the
process being -controlled by the will of the insect.
In the male the light organs are more strongly
developed than in the female, and the larve, which
are found in damp places, also emit a feeble light.
Kirby and Spence believed that this light is used
to frighten enemies and others claim that it is a
sex signal or perhaps displayed in rivalry among
the males, but we probably do not understand its
full significance.

In this species the flare is often slightly greenish
but sometimes it is red or yellowish, varying some-

360 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

what in different individuals. Occasionally one
shines out like a star of the first magnitude or a
Venus among the planets. About a quarter of an
hour after sunset they suddenly appear and the
hammocks and lowlands twinkle with their little
lanterns, but in an hour the illumination is mostly
over and in another hour scarcely one is seen.
After this at long intervals one individual may
show its light and may be seen even during the
dawn like some late reveler returning home from
adebauch. The effect of their brilliant flashes in
the dense, dark hammock is startling and uncanny.

The land crabs (Cardisoma guanhumt) though
already mentioned deserve further comment here
for they are especially active at night. They are
most abundant on low ground near salt water.
Their metropolis is in the West Indies but they are
well established along the Florida coast from the
vicinity of Palm Beach to Cape Sable. Here they
occasionally attain a spread of eighteen inches from
tip to tip of the claws though they reach a little
more than that in Cuba. Most of them area dirty
blue; sometimes one is seen with a greenish or
yellowish cast and rarely they are red and violet.
They dig holes in which they live in low ground,

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 361

often going down below the surface of standing
water. When these are abandoned’ they make
-the finest kind of breeding places for mosquitoes.
During the rainy season, from May to October,
they go out into the hammocks and pinelands,
often a long way from the sea, living then under
rocks or in hollows beneath the roots of trees. In
wet weather they become diurnal and swarm out
over the dry land even into buildings which are but
little elevated above ground. They climb up the
corners of rooms and get on beds and tables but
the statement made by settlers that they occa-
sionally play the piano may be considered a play-
ful exaggeration. They climb leaning or rough
barked trees to a considerable height and are very
destructive to cultivated plants, shredding out
their leaves with their claws and even tearing
down large banana stalks. In every case where
cultivated plants are mixed with wild ones they
make their assaults on the former. I am positive
they can tell a five-dollar exotic from one which
cost a half a dollar, for they always destroy the
more valuable one.

Their appearance is half repulsive and there is
about them an air of impudence; they exemplify

362 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the word ‘‘cheek”’ to an astonishing degree, yet
they are very comical and ludicrous. I was once
at the beach opposite Lemon City with a party for
the purpose of taking a plunge in the surf. We
changed clothes at the edge of the mangrove
swamp and the mud being firm and dry we left
our things lying on the ground. When we started
to dress my socks were missing and after some
search I found them both dragged into a near-by
crab hole. One of them was just disappearing
and in dragging it out I lost my elastic garter in
the hole. One sleeve of my shirt was pulled into
one hole and the other into one next to it and the
rim of my felt hat had been drawn into still
another. One of my companions had a shoe
dragged partly in and he failed to retrieve a sock
and both elastics. It might be supposed the
crabs wanted these articles for nests but as their
bodies and claws are very hard they certainly
could have no use for a bed. I have dug into a
good many of these burrows which slope slightly
and are somewhat enlarged at the lower end, but
have found no bedding so I am led to believe that
our clothes were stolen out of ‘‘pure cussedness.”

One claw or arm is greatly developed while the

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 363

other is dwarfed, and the great one may be either
right or left. If molested they usually try to
escape but when once cornered they pinch severely
with the large claw. While the victim is writhing
in pain the crab wrenches his whole arm loose and
escapes. Sometimes when suddenly surprised
they seem to become dazed and lose all power of
offense or of retreat. At such times I have seen
them stop short, apparently helpless, and allow
themselves to be picked up even though within
a few inches of a hole or other good place of con-
cealment. It has been asserted that when the
great arm is lost the small one begins to increase
and eventually becomes the large one, but I doubt
this. A minute claw grows from the socket of the
great arm as soon as it is torn off, and it probably
continues to increase to full size while the other
remains as before. On summer nights their rust-
ling and clattering is always to be heard in the
hammocks and lowland and if one will watch
quietly he will likely see a raccoon glide across
some open space with one of them in his mouth, for
“Brer Coon” is their mortal enemy, catching them
in great numbers and cleaning out the last morsel
of flesh from their carapaces.

364 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

Here along the edge of the hammock the moon-
flowers (Ipomea bona-nox) have climbed to the
very tops of the tallest trees, forming a mantle of
soft, luxuriant, cordate foliage. Sometimes a few
flowers open before sunset but most of them bloom
just as dusk is coming on. The great disk-like
corolla is fully five inches across and the length
of the whole flower is about seven inches. The
twisted buds gradually unfold and become inflated,
then they suddenly expand, much like the opening
of anumbrella. Ifa puff of wind sweeps over them
hundreds burst out at once as if touched by a
magician’s wand, and the effect of such a sudden
display of loveliness is indescribable. All through
the night they spread their glorious white salvers
to the darkness, or perhaps to the moonlight, and
then at sunrise they close up and fade, as Kingsley
has said: ‘‘After one night of beauty and life, and
probably of enjoyment.”’ Yes, why not enjoy-
ment? Why may they not in addition to life and
beauty have some power of sense and feeling?
On some plants the flowers last well into the morn-
ing, or if it is cloudy the greater part of the day.
They open in undiminished numbers during cold
nights.

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 365

In May and June several species of night bloom-
ing cereus blossom at dusk but they usually begin
to wither before sunrise. As arule only the climb-
ing species do well here and two or three of these
have become naturalized. On a pine trunk in my
grounds a cereus, probably a hybrid, has sent
several strict stems to a height of fifty feet and I
have counted over twenty great flowers on it in
one night. Its sepals are rich brick red, the petals
satiny white, and it is exceedingly fragrant. Ona
single plant of Cereus triangularis I have seen fifty
flowers each a foot in diameter and they trans-
formed the live oak on which the vine grew into
a miracle of beauty. No less than seventy-four of
these blossoms were seen very early one morning
on a plant which scrambled over an old rock pile.

The delicious, spicy fragrance which saturates
the atmosphere of the hammock and even beyond
it comes from the marlberry (Icacorea paniculata),
a small tree which opens its clusters of pale, striped
flowers in the autumn. In the winter it bears at-
tractive purple berries which are much relished
by the birds. Some of the cultivated flowers are
also very fragrant at night. One of these (Acacia
farnesiana), a small native tree often grown in

366 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

yards, has little yellow balls of stamens which scent
a large area of acalm night. The night blooming
‘‘jessamine”’ is not a jessamine at all but a cousin
of the potato and tobacco plants. Its greenish
yellow blossoms open in the daytime and remain in
perfection for several days. Until after dark they
do not have the slightest fragrance; then some
magic influence of the night suddenly opens their
perfume cells and the wonderful odor pours forth.
In its native region, the West Indies, this perfumeis
no doubt an invitation to certain nocturnal insects,
inactive by day, to come for honey and incidentally
to cross fertilize the blossoms. The fragrance of
this Cestrum is so strong that a small spray of its
blossoms will scent every room in a large house.
No words can give an adequate idea of the soft-
ness and brilliancy of the moon in Southern
Florida and the same may be said of the stars. In.
the hammock the moonlight effect is wonderful
as it filters through the dense foliage and forms
varied patterns of light and shadow on the floor
of the forest. Looking up through the trees it
resembles the spray of an illuminated waterfall.
Out in the more open pine woods the shadows of
light clouds floating under the moon give almost

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 367

exactly the appearance produced by a passing
shower. In the lowlands the effect of moonlight
and shadow on the pools is weird in the true Edgar
Allan Poe sense of that word. In places the light
sifts through the trees and glimmers on the water;
elsewhere there is still a faint, soft gleam, but
under the heavy vegetation the black shadows are
full of mystery.

The effect of the moonlight on the palms is
bewitching as it shimmers on the glittering leaflets,
and it is equally fine on the bamboos, enhancing
their feathery lightness and grace more deftly
than does the over-revealing sunlight. I well
remember a night spent at the home of Professor
Nehrling, of Gotha, Florida, some years ago.
There was a full moon and a short distance from
my bedroom window grew an immense clump of
the majestic bamboo, Dendrocalamus latifolius.
Its stems arose almost straight for fully fifty feet
and then with indescribable grace arched slightly
outward. I sat for hours at my window and
drank in the intoxicating beauty of this stately
grass, and it seemed to me in that magic light to
be the most perfect specimen of the vegetable king-

dom I had ever seen.

368 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

During the rainy season vast masses of cumuli
or ‘‘steam”’ clouds build up on the horizon, some-
times reaching almost to the zenith, and these are
especially noticeable in the earlier part of the even-
ing. They are gray, lead colored, or even a dark,
leaden blue in the shadow but in the light of a
setting sun they show charming tints of whitish,
straw color, or gold. Sometimes when they are
piled up in the eastern sky they exhibit ravishing
tints of salmon, rosy red, or violet. As the light
fades from their more illuminated parts they
change to bluish black. The effect of these
immense masses of summer clouds is grand in the
extreme.

Orion, the most magnificent of the constella-
tions, is visible evenings from November to May.
At the time when this group is on the zenith no
less than eight stars of the first magnitude are
visible in our latitude. The constellation Scorpio
is almost equally splendid, a scorpion without a
sting; one which inspires no dread. It occupies
a great space in the heavens, looking like an im-
mense inverted interrogation point. It is visible
during the summer and when it is directly above
the heavens are very brilliant. To the west of the

THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 369

scorpion is the Centaur, a large group with a
considerable number of bright stars so evenly
strewn that one might imagine some giant had
scattered them as a sower would sow grain.

The southern sector of the heavens is also very
brilliant because of a number of stars of first
magnitude not visible in the Northern States. In
the lower part of the Centaur are two superb
stars, Agena and Bungula, which show finely low
down in the Southern sky in late spring and early
summer. It is probably not known generally
that the Southern Cross can be seen in its entirety
in this region in May and June. With a clear
horizon Acrux, the southernmost and brightest
star of the Cross, is visible here for a short time
during the evenings of these two months. The
group is a little disappointing as it is not a very
perfect cross but rather a slightly irregular dia-
mond. Acrux is a splendid object; there are two
stars of the second magnitude and two lesser ones.
Canopus is a fine star in the Southern sky and so
too is Fomalhaut, only seen in autumn,—in the
Southern Fish. This is not in the zodiacal con-
stellation Pisces which has two fish tied together
by their tails, the ribbon being bespangled by

370 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

small stars. Besides these there is a Dolphin, the
Swordfish, and a group called Pisces Volans (the
Flying Fish), the latter far down in the Southern
skies. Fora dry region the firmament seems to be
pretty well stocked with fish.

There are always some of the planets visible
and one may watch with interest their motions
and the changes of some of them from morning
to evening stars and the reverse. The stars
become one’s companions and friends when once
he has learned their.names and positions in the
heavens; they exhibit an ever-changing panorama
of interest and beauty. During the wanderer’s
nightly walks he visits with them and is never
lonely when their kindly light shines on him. By
them he is able to tell with considerable accuracy
the hour of the night.

The darkness in the deep hammock is so intense
that it seems to be in blots; like that of Egypt it
can be felt. The sensation one gains as he gropes
about in it is one of helplessness and semi-terror;
at every step his nerves tingle. One hears strange
sounds startling and affrighting; the whole en-
vironment is uncanny. I frequently awaken in.
the night and, unable to sleep for a time, I some-

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THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 371

times wander out into the grounds to see what is
going on in the darkness. On one occasion I went
into the hammock at about two in the morning
and while standing in a small open space listening
to the frog chorus I heard a noise in the dense
forest as though some large animal were rushing
through it. It seemed to be moving rapidly in
my direction and from being startled at first I
became frightened. I feel sure that what hair I
have stood on end and I was strongly tempted to
run even in the inky darkness. But before I could
make up my mind to do so two men with guns
stepped into the open space where I stood. In
such a voice as one has in a nightmare I managed
to call out ‘‘Who are you?”’ and when they heard
me they were as frightened as I. Then they told
me they had been in the swamp to the northward
hunting a wildcat and were on their way home.
When I had somewhat recovered from my fright I
recognized them as two of my neighbors and we
had a good laugh over the adventure.

I love the night with its silence, its strange
sounds, its beauty and mystery. It has an in-
finite attraction for the devotee of nature: all that
he sees, hears, and feels are so different from the

372 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

experiences of the daytime; he seems to be in
another world. Whatever differs from the or-
dinary may appeal to one’s fancy and produce a
thrill. Muir wrote one of his finest chapters as
the result of a day’s tramp in a pouring rain, and
one of the most fascinating of William Hamilton
Gibson’s sketches, which he illustrated with his
wonderful drawings, was an account of a night
spent in the great out-of-doors. Much of the
wonder and beauty of the night consists in what is
only half seen, in what is partly suggested, leaving
the imagination to do the rest.

It is then largely because of the stimulation of
the imagination that the night is so wonderful.
Under its spell we create a world of our own and
revel in the make believe—like the children of a
larger growth that we all are.

CHAPTER XVIII
The Survival of the Fittest

HE very fact that tropical life exists at
all in Lower Florida is in itself a proof of
the survival of the fittest. It all had to
cross the ocean and on its arrival estab-

lish itself despite the competition of forms which
already occupied the region. In addition to this
the environment in Florida is not so congenial as
in the regions from which this life migrated. The
lower part of our State has a colder climate than
any part of the American tropics which lies near
the level of the sea; food is not so abundant and
our soil is generally poorer. Land birds of weak
flight, reptiles and batrachians of degenerate type,
or mammals and insects of uneconomic habit would
be almost entirely shut out. The seeds of a great
number of plants sink in salt water, and some
that float lose their vitality in the sea. Only the
strong and fit, those with great vitality, could ever
373

374 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

have become established on our shores. On the
other hand life which had no doubt previously
migrated to the lower end of our State from the
northward met that from the tropics and a battle
royal for a place and food began and has ever since
been waged with never-ceasing relentlessness.

We have two species of Ficus in Lower Florida,
both of which have somewhat similar habits, but
one of them, Ficus aurea, quite commonly begins
life as an epiphyte, while the other, Ficus brevifolia,
usually grows throughout its life in the ground.
They belong to a family which is abundant in the
tropics of the old and new worlds, and containing
a number of species that live on other trees and
choke them to death, hence they are called
“stranglers.” The floor of the hammocks or
tropical forests is a dark place, where even at
noontime of the brightest day there is but a
limited amount of light. If the seeds of the Fieus
fell upon it they would doubtless germinate on
account of the heat and moisture, but in the dim,
crowded forest they would stand little chance of
ever becoming trees. So the strangling figs resort
to a cunning trick. Their fruits are eagerly de-
youred by birds and when they alight on the branch

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 375

of another tree the indigestible seeds may be
passed out and lodged in some cavity or crevice
of the bark. Ordinary seeds would never ger-
minate in such situations and if they did the young
plants would soon die because of lack of nourish-
ment. Those of the Ficus sprout and begin to
grow on the tree where they are lodged, and the
radicle develops into a tiny root which creeps out
over the surface of the trunk or limb to which it
is attached; the plumule becomes a stem bearing
the ordinary Ficus leaves, and in a short time it
is a strong, healthy plant. It is not a parasite for
it does not draw its sap from its host; it is at first
an epiphyte and it seems to cling with a sort of
loving dependence to its supporter. Often the
foliage of the two looks so much alike that the
uninitiated would never suspect that two different
trees were growing together, and I have sometimes
fancied that this was a sort of cuckoo trick by
which this interloper sought to deceive its host
and pass itself off for a part of it.

One root follows after another and when they
reach the ground they ‘‘make fast,” as the sailors
say, and soon become “‘taut as a bowline.” Then
lateral roots spring out and cross the perpendicular

376 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

ones, ‘‘marrying”’ wherever they touch each other,
and soon the whole system becomes a closely
cemented network. In some cases the falling
roots turn once or more around the trunk of the
host before reaching the ground. At first they do
not seem to injure the embraced tree but later
when they have fully enclosed it the leaves turn
yellow and it slowly dies. There is no funeral or
any sign of mourning in the dim forest; the Ficus
deliberately goes on covering the dead trunk with
its terrible roots. Soon boring beetles invade the
trunk, which on account of the heat and moisture
has already begun to decay. Ina short time there
begins to fall from between the enclosing roots
what looks like sawdust which forms a mound at
the foot of the Ficus. Now the usurper begins to
fill in the space (which was occupied by the host)
with its own growth,.becoming for a time an endo-
gen, and later the Ficus becomes a solid trynk
standing erect and looking much like any ordinary
forest tree. The whole process, which is somewhat
complicated and requires many years for its com-
pletion, is initiated and carried out in order that
the fig may have an opportunity to begin life and
have a place in the forest where there is plenty of

Actual Moonlight Scene, Looking across Biscayne Bay from the
Pavilion at ‘‘The Sentinels.” A Two Hours’ Exposure
Photo by Mrs. Reba Minford

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 377

air, room, and light. It looks very much like the
result of planning and reasoning, of a deliberate
selfishness of the worst sort. The helpless tree
which is being crushed and strangled in the em-
brace of the fig, the long, lithe roots thrusting
themselves into every crevice, wrapping tighter
and tighter about their victim, remind one of
Laocoon and the serpents. ‘The fig is not content
with using the host to elevate it into the region of
light and give it a start in life, but it utterly de-
stroys its benefactor in order that it may use the
exact space it occupied.

When they have plenty of room our Ficus or
wild figs often reach gigantic proportions. They
frequently come up in the pineland, especially
about dwellings or cultivated land, and grow
rapidly, but they are so different in appearance
from the hammock specimens that no one would
suspect that they were the same species. In the
latter locations the tiny roots of Ficus aurea
usually grow singly, while in the open those of both
trees are in fascicles which often become tangled
and braided by the action of the wind. At last
they become consolidated into great, knotted
ropes. The lighter colored growing points are

378 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

more or less sticky during damp weather and when
they are thrown against the trunk or each other
they adhere and are soon solidly joined together.
They reach out and spread as they clutch like a
many fingered hand; in fact they are uncanny
things for they appear possessed of nerves, muscles,
and a sinister intelligence. The layers of growth,
largely made up of these fascicles, are far more
locked and complicated than those of a northern
sycamore. These roots may be thrown against
fences and buildings, and if so they catch on and
may hang in fantastic loops, or they drop into the
ground and in time the great tree becomes a
veritable banyan.

‘The struggle for existence among plants begins
with the seed and never ends until death. Nature
has to be wonderfully fecund for not one seed in a
hundred, or in some cases a thousand, becomes a
mature plant. Down on the mud flats I have
seen the ground covered so thickly with young
seedling Laguncularias that they actually touched
each other. There were plants enough to make a
hundred acres of forest could they have been
properly cared for. A visit to the same spot a
year later showed only here and there a young

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 379

plant struggling to get up through the thick scrub
and weeds. In another year nearly all were gone,
swept away by high tides, devoured by insects,
killed by disease, or choked out by other vegetation.
The same is true in the hammock where thousands
of plants of the Ocoteas, Eugenias, papaws or live
oaks come up in a single season. They all run
the gantlet and at best only a few half starved
plants survive for even a few years. By and by
some old tree which has occupied a large space dies
and falls, leaving an open spot, and a single seed-
ling which is a little stronger or more advanta-
geously situated than the rest soon occupies the
vacant area and keeps down all the others. Thus
nature wastes an almost uncalculable amount of
energy.

Is it any wonder then that with the fierce com-
petition for space, light, and opportunity in the
forests the weaker plants are driven out into the
swamps, into the water, or onto the trees to live
as epiphytes; anywhere that they can find room
and make out an existence? Is it strange that
they seem to resort to all kinds of schemes which
will give their seeds a chance to grow and re-
produce their species? The epiphytes have used

380 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

several cunning devices wherewith to establish
themselves. The seeds of orchids are very minute
and can be borne long distances by the wind.
Those of our species of air pines (Tillandsia,
Catopsis, and Guzmannia) are provided with a
tuft of silky filaments, much like the down on a
thistle, the whole so light that it almost floats in
theair. Whenever these are blown or drift against
the limb or trunk of a tree the roughened threads
are pretty likely to catch and hold. The wind
and rain beat them down against the bark until
the seed touches it, when without any soil or extra
moisture they germinate, forming at first a few
fleshy leaves like an aloe, and at the same time
sending out roots which cling to their support.
On some of the trees in my hammock I fastened
small specimens of a giant air plant from Cuba
which has hard, indigestible seeds imbedded in a
sweet, sticky pulp, the whole contained in a sort
of capsule. In its native land the birds eagerly
devour the fruits, a part of which often adheres to
their beaks, claws, or feathers. When they alight
on other trees the sticky mass may come in contact
with limbs or bark and adhere, or the seeds are
passed through and lodge where they can grow.

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 381

Strangely the birds here have not learned that
the fruits on my imported plants are edible, though
they have been growing here a number of years.

The common long or Spanish moss which is
placed in the genus Dendropogon hangs from the
branches of trees over wide areas in the lower
south. In addition to its means of propagation
by seeds which are borne on air currents, its long,
pendant streamers are constantly being torn off
and carried for some distance by winds which
lodge them on the limbs of other trees. When-
ever they are so landed they throw out roots from
any part of the stems which come in contact with
the wood and a new plant is born. This is a very
common and efficient means of distributing this
strange Bromeliad.

We have several kinds of native plants which
are not at all dominant in a wild state but which
become decidedly aggressive and assume the
character of weeds in cultivated ground. Among
these are two or three species of sand burs (Cen-
chrus) and a Boerhaavia, all of which are provided
with burs and are among our most pestiferous
weeds. Almost as soon as the ground is broken,
they begin to appear in great numbers and only

382 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

the most constant vigilance on the part of the cul-
tivator can keep them from taking full possession.
Their seeds, like those of most weeds, germinate
during damp weather by merely being in contact
with the surface of the soil, in fact if they are
buried a couple of inches they will not grow. So
omnipresent are these pests about our homes that
they seem to be an example of the ‘‘survival of the
unfit.” One of the sumacs (Rhus obtusifolia) is
often seen as a shrub in the pineland and along
the edges of hammocks, but in cultivated ground
it becomes a small tree, propagating itself rapidly
by underground runners and becoming not merely
a nuisance but a menace. The same is true of the
common and widely distributed woodbine (Ampe-
lopsis quinquefolia) and a grape (Vitis munson-
tana) both of which grow in the edge of hammocks
but are spreading alarmingly in tilled ground.
These are doubtless kept within bounds in a wild
state by forest fires. They bear fruit much more
abundantly where the other wild vegetation is
kept down, and the birds carry and drop their
seeds everywhere.

There are several plants which are naturalized
here from the tropics that come up and flourish

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THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 383

in our grounds and fields that are quite tender and
are occasionally frozen to the ground but which
seem nevertheless to be very much at home and
are firmly established. Among these is the com-
mon beggar’s tick (Bidens leucantha) which is so
tender that the least frost cuts it badly. Our
yellow elder (Tecoma stans) and the common guava
have both become completely naturalized, but
they are sometimes killed by freezing. No doubt
these all find the environment generally congenial
and in spite of being seriously injured now and
then they are able to maintain themselves.

Along the roadsides is a common weed, a native
of India (Sporobolus indicus) which takes the
place of the northern plantains, as it flourishes
best in much trodden places. It is a tough, wiry
grass and though it does not bear a bur it is very
persistent, driving out other plants wherever it
becomes established.

In an early day in Illinois, my native State, the
prairies were covered with beautiful flowering
plants and nutritious grasses but as soon as settle-
ments were made a great variety of weeds came
in and began to take possession of the roadsides,
yards, and waste places until it seemed as though

384 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

they would exterminate all cultivated plants.
Then a plant native in the Northern Alleghanies
began to creep in along the roads, pastures, and
fields, in fact everywhere; a plant that has proven
to be almost as much a boon to the people of the
Eastern United States as corn or wheat. It is
the Kentucky blue grass (Poa pratensis), rich,
green, and nutritious. It at once drove out the
weeds and has ever since covered the land with a
beautiful green carpet. It seems probable that a
similar process is taking place in Lower Florida
to-day. A handsome grass from South Africa, the
Natal grass, with pale green leaves and stems, has
been introduced and has escaped cultivation. It
was grown for its beauty, the hairy flowers being
a rich rose color. In places where it has become
established it is driving out our pestiferous weeds
and taking full possession. When one looks
across a field of this Tricholena rosea towards the
morning or evening sun a thrilling sight is pre-
sented, a sheet of the loveliest variegated rose
imaginable. It is relished by stock, makes good
hay, and may be easily killed by the plow.
There are a number of animals in Lower Florida
which have developed cunning tricks or ingenious

The Work of the Strangling Fig, Second Stage, Sending Down Roots.
On Great Oak in Cutler Hammock

Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 385

devices for their betterment or as a protection
against their enemies. We have at least two spe-
cies of the great sulphur butterflies (Catopsilia)
which love the sunlight and are especially abundant
in open places. Their flight is exceedingly swift
and they constantly move in spirals and zig-zags,
so that it is difficult for any bird to capture them.

There is a small butterfly in our hammocks in
considerable numbers in autumn and early winter,
one of the Eunicas or violet-wings, E. tatila proba-
bly. The upper side of its wings is shaded with
magnificent royal purple; both sides of the upper
wings are white spotted, and the under side of the
lower ones is smoky colored. It almost always
alights on the smooth, brown bark of small trees,
closing the wings at once, but leaving the upper
ones raised, and in that position the white spots
show plainly. Then it slowly opens its wings;
the upper ones drop down behind the lower ones
and only the smoky under surfaces of the lower
wings show. If the color of the bark on which it
has alighted is lighter or darker than that shown
by the butterfly it slowly changes its tint until it
harmonizes with its environment. Once I saw one

of these Eunicas alight on a spot where a dark bit
25

386 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

of color on the bark joined a lighter patch and im-
mediately, as though it noticed its mistake, it
moved over to the lighter color which ‘more nearly
harmonized with it. One of these sitting on the
smooth trunk of a tree looks exactly like,a small
piece of its bark which has become loosened and
turned up; this is probably just what the insect
intends to simulate. Since I have learned its
trick I have been deceived by it repeatedly.
Pyrrhanea portia, one of our large butterflies with
gorgeous crimson or scarlet wings, attempts almost
exactly the same trick but it does not quite so com-
pletely conceal itself.

There is a handsome, slender winged butterfly
common in our hammocks and shaded areas (Heli-
conias charitonius), our only member of a large
family belonging to the American tropics. «Its
wings are jet black, with irregular diagonal yellow
bars. They have a peculiar trembling flight and
on account of their abundance are the most con-
spicuous insect ornament of our forests. One day
while sitting by one of the pools in my hammock
I saw half a dozen of them hanging to a strand of
long moss and apparently dead. The closed wings
hung straight down with a decidedly limp appear-

Work of the Strangling Fig, Third Stage. Sending out Cross Roots
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 387

ance; the shining black color of flight was now dull,
and the yellow bars had turned to a dirty white.
I thought I would examine them to see what had
happened and to fix the guilt upon a suspicious
looking spider. When I reached my hand towards
them in a flash the whole lot flew away and began
their trembling flight.

They attach themselves in considerable num-
bers, crowding so close on the moss that they
touch each other; in fact I once counted twenty-
five of them within a space of ten inches. At
times they partly bury themselves in the moss and
the irregular wing stripes look almost exactly like
the twisted strands among which they are hiding.
The ground color of the insect is not at all con-
spicuous and I have no doubt but that the whole
arrangement is a trick to deceive its enemies into
supposing it is only part of the long moss. So
closely do they mimic their environment that I
always have to look closely to be sure whether
they are on the moss or not, and so completely
do they simulate death that I am constantly being
deceived into thinking that they must be dead.
Their color returns at once when they recommence

their flight.

388 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

The Calverts found this same widely distributed
butterfly in Costa Rica and during these rests or
sleeps it became so dormant that one allowed it-
self to be picked up, making but little effort to
escape. Beebe says that in British Guiana the
Heliconias alight on bare twigs, folding their wings
and sleeping through the night. In this position
they presented no surface to the rain; they also
hung edgewise to the direction from which it was
sure to come. Ours seem often to be possessed
with a spirit of mischief, for when a lot of them
have alighted for the night another will come and
make repeated dabs at the rest until finally they
are all irritated into flight.

I often see a rather large butterfly (Timetes
petreus), one of the dagger wings, which is an
example of protective mimicry almost as wonder-
ful as the celebrated leaf butterfly (Kallima para-
lekta) of the East Indies, which may now be seen
in most large museums. Our species has long
wings with a rather irregular outline, the ends of
the upper pair being strongly curved outwards.
When flying it is a most conspicuous object as
both surfaces of the wings are a bright rufous red
or even scarlet and have three narrow, dark bars

The Work of the Strangling Fig. Last Stage in which the Host is
Wholly Enveloped
Photo by Wilson Popenoe

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 389

running from near the top of the upper wings to
the base of the lower ones. At the extreme lower
point of the latter there is a curved, projecting
tail and another much longer one above it. Al-
though I often watched closely I could never find
it after it alighted in the dense forest. I could see
its gorgeous wings as it flew with great rapidity
through the hammock; then, as suddenly as the
turning out of an electric light, it was gone. One
day when I was in the hammock a Timetes flew
close by me and vanished within a yard of my face.
It seemed to disappear among some dead leaves
‘on a shrub before me and as I peered very closely
among them I discovered it, apparently as perfect
a dead leaf as any on the bush. The wings were
closed and much of the red color had faded, their
under surfaces had grown darker and were slightly
variegated with a smoky brown exactly the color
of the dead leaves. The lower tail was pressed
closely against the twig on which it had alighted
and formed a perfect petiole. This appeared to be
continued up two thirds of the length of the sup-
posed leaf as a midrib. This midrib seemed to be
actually raised but I afterwards discovered that it
is cleverly composed of color markings, so arranged

390 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

that they produce the appearance of relief. At
one side there is a notch at the junction of the
upper and lower wings which reaches to the sup-
posed midrib, looking exactly as though the old
leaf had been torn. About this ragged notch are
some small blotches which look precisely like holes
made by some leaf-eating insect. The illusion is
further carried out by some faint markings of a
pale color easily to be taken for the web of the
supposed insect. Only the hinder feet of the but-
terfly clung to the twig and the small body could
hardly be seen. In some cases when among dead
leaves the Timetes twists its wings so that they
are almost contorted and thus increases further
its resemblance to a dead leaf. They rely so com-
pletely on this perfect camouflage that on several
occasions I have picked them up without their
making any attempt to escape. I have frequently
watched these insects when they were gathering
honey from wild coffee and other shrubs and the
under surfaces of their wings at such times retain
their bright color.

The tiny scales on the butterflies’ wings are
hollow and a canal connects each of them with
the circulatory system. A liquid is injected into

uvhueg 9]qujJeA & sewooeg Ayjenjueag puL s}ooY MV UMOG spuEg eet] OANEN SIL “POHANG snyeq

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 391

the scales to give them their color, and withdrawn
during periods of rest or sleep. This accounts for
the slight change in the wing colors of the species
I have mentioned when they wish to mimic the
object on which they alight, and the regaining of
their normal color when they fly.

There is, no doubt, a weeding-out process going
on, caused by the severe frosts which occasionally
visit the more tropical parts of Florida. The
tenderer trees and herbaceous plants are some-
times either killed outright or so weakened that,
fora time, the hardier ones gain a decided ascend-
ency. Then a series of mild winters gives the
tropical species their opportunity to forge ahead
and drive their rivals out, or at least to gain a
marked advantage. Several species of plants in a
wild state are particularly subject to the attacks of
certain insects which may seriously handicap them
in the struggle for supremacy or even existence.
In this region the wild fiddlewood (Citharexylum)
is almost constantly attacked by a tent caterpillar
which may destroy all the leaves on an entire tree.
A small beetle, apparently a Curculio, has for
some years pierced the seeds of our native Ocotea,
so that I have not been able to find a single perfect

392 IN LOWER FLORIDA WILDS

one. If such depredations were to continue un-
abated through a long series of years they might
entirely prevent the plants from propagating and
they would eventually be exterminated throughout
the area in which they were attacked. In this
way we might account for the absence of certain
trees and plants in regions where we would
naturally expect to find them.

A cold winter or a series of them undoubtedly
destroys great numbers of injurious insects and
fungi and may check diseases which prey on our
plants. Such a winter or winters are followed by
an unusually vigorous growth of vegetation, since
it has fewer enemies to cope with. This luxuriance
of growth and scarcity of enemies gives the sur-
vivors an excellent opportunity with a greater
share of food and room, and as a consequence the
destroyers again wax lusty, multiply with great
rapidity, and in a short time the equilibrium of
nature is reéstablished and the old order of life is
restored.

There are those who believe there is imminent
danger that many of our cultivated plants will
become exterminated by imported diseases and
injurious insects and that unless the strictest in-

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 393

spection is kept up and the most rigorous restraints
enforced on plant growers, our agriculture and
horticulture will totally fail. They forget or do
not know that nature constantly tends to produce
an equilibrium. Ever since life developed on this
planet a never-ending struggle has gone on be-
tween the good and bad influences and agencies to
build up and develop or weaken and destroy,—
the evil and ruinous forces of nature on the one
hand and her strength and upbuilding power, her
eternal fecundity and virility, on the other. Life
flourishes with as much health and vigor now as it
did in the old Cambrian days, and there is no rea-
son to believe that it will become extinct or even
grow feeble until the cooling off of the sun’s heat
signals the end.

INDEX

Italicized numbers indicate pages on which subjects are

discussed.

Abudefduf saxatilis, 304

Acacia farnesiana, 365

Acetabularia, 309

Acnida australis, 125

Acelorraphe wrightit, 98, 108

“Across the Everglades,” 140,
239

Acrostichum, 110, 266

Adams, C. B., 346

Aerating roots, 251

Aigeride, 102

Arcas, 313

Areas of life, 11

Africa, 182

Agaricias, 307

Agassiz, Alexander, 332

Agassiz, Louis, 34

Agave, 57

Agave neglecta, 124

“Age of Cycads,”’ 174

Age of the hammocks, 230

Albatross, steamer, 326

Alcatapacpachee River, 236

Alcyonarians, 307

Allen, Grant, 331

Alligator, 239

Altamaha River, 105

Aluco pratincola, 355

Alvaradoa amor phoides, 162

Ambrosia or ragweed, 164

Ameria scalaris, 245

395

American tropics, 148
Amerimnon, 50

Ampelopsis quinquefolia, 382
Amphiperas acicularis, 315
Ampullaria, 246

Andrews, E. F., 180
Anhinga anhinga, 127
Annona, 135, 244

Annona glabra, 265

Annona palustris, 265
Anolis carolinensis, 101
Antedon, 322

Antrostomus carolinensis, 354
Appalachian Mountains, 30
Appalachicola River, 5
Aramus vociferus, 127

| Arch Creek, 18, 236

Arnold, Mrs. Augusta, 280
Asplenium dentatum, 247
Astreans,.306

Atlantic Monthly, quoted, 152
Australia, 182-

Avicennta nitida, 264

Baccharis, 270

Baccharis halimifolia, 193
Bahamas, 166

Bahia Honda Key, 36, 37, 48
Bambusa vulgaris, 346
Banana holes, 197

Barnes Sound, 15,33

396

INDEX

Bartram, William, 184, 240

Bay of Florida, 33, 119

Bear Lake, 62

Beebe, William, 15

Bejaria racemosa, 162

Bidens or beggar’s ticks, 164

Bidens leucantha, 383

Big Coppitt Key, 38

Big Pine Key, 18, 38, 51, 57

Big Sable Laie 66, 236
iscayne Bay, 15, 24,

Black Greek 236" aye

Black snail, 89

Blackwater Bay, 33

Blechnum, 266

Blechnum serrulatum, 272

Boca Chica Key, 37, 38

Boca Grande, 41

Boca Baton, 18

Beoerhaavia, 164, 382

Boston fern, 206

Botulas, 314

Brachyopods, 129, 324

Bradley, Warren, 112

Brown, A, D., 311

Bufo lentiginosus, 358

Bumelia angustifolia, 50, 86

Burroughs, John, 276

Bursera, 200

Bursera gummifera, 193, 195,

217
Byrd, Dr. Hiram, 351
Byrsonoma lucida, 196

Cacti, 110
Cesar’s Creek, 28
Calcareous teeth in land shells,

33 ;
Callicarpa americana, 195, 212
Caloosahatchie River, 7, 134,

136
Calophyllum calaba, 152
otk ison guzygium, 162
Cambrian, 129

Camp Jackson, 131
Campyloneurum phylliditis,214
Canada, 144

Canavalias, 152

Canavalia rustosperma, 298
Cancellaria tenera, 81

. Canella winteriana, 86

Canna flaccida, 124

Cape Canaveral, 25

Cape Florida, 33

Cape Romano, 6, 32, 35
Cape Sable, 20, 32, 35, 60, 183
Cardisoma guanhumt, 268, 360
Cardium isocardia, 282, 294
Cardium levigatum, 282
Cardium magnum, 282
Cardium peramabile, 327
Cardiums, 288, 293

Card Sound, 15, 33, 97
Caribbean pine, 57, 180
Carica papaya, 104
Cassythacez, 182

Cassytha filiformis, 182
Catopsilia, 385

Catopsis, 110, 380
Cenchrus or sand bur, 164
Cephalanthus, 266
Cephalanthus occidentalis, 19§
Central America, 168
Ceratiola ericotdes, 162
Cereus ertophorus, 87
Cereus pentagonus, 50, 86
Cereus triangularis, 365
Cerion, 338

Ceuthophilus, 184
Chetodon captstratus, 305
Chetodonts, 305

Chatham River, 147
Chenopodiums, 164

Chis Cut, 97, 236

Chitons, 287
Chittahatchee River, 236
Chokoloskee, 35, 157

_ Chokoloskee Bay, 66

Chokoloskee Island, 65, 71
Chokoloskee River, 236

INDEX

397

Chokoloskee Village, 66
Chordeilus virginianus, 354
Chrysobalanus, 153, 195, 244,

270
Chrysophylium oliveforme, 217
Citharexylum, 158, 391
Cladium effusum, 121, 247
Clark, Professor, 328
Clionas, 300
Coal in Florida, 6
Coccolobis floridana, 226
Coccolobis uvifera, 85
Coccothrinax garberi, 167
Coccothrinax jucunda, 85
Cocoanut Grove, 18
Codakias, 288, 314
Codakia tigerina, 294
Columbellas, 314
Comatulids, 322
Composite, 147
Conch Town, 54
Connecticut, 118
Conocarpus erectus, 270
Content Keys, 37, 284
Conus, 284
Coot Bay, 35, 62, 104, 106
Coral reef, 8
Corkscrew River, 236
Cotton mouse, 12
Cotton rat, 12
Crepidulas, 284
Crescent City, 184
Crescentia cucurbitana,
266
Creseis, 332
Crinoids, 130
Crinum, 153, 266
Crinum americanum, 125, 244
Crocodilus acutus, 238
Cross Key, 48
Cuban Eugenias, 148
Cudjoe Key, 38
Cuthbert Lake, 35, 236
Cutler Creek, 236
Cuvierias, 332
Cycadacez, 174

238,

Cyclostomide, 336

Cymodoce, 262, 302

Cyprezas, 287, 313

Cypress swamp, 240

Cyrtopodium punctatum, 110,
213

Cytherea dione, 294

Dade County,
156, 183

Dall, W. H., 326

Darwin, Charles, 347

Daytona, 6

Dendrocalamus latifolius, 367

Dendropogon, 381

Devonian, 174

Diademas, 308

Diadema setosum, 287

Dimock, A. W., 239

Diospyros, 195

Dipholis salictfolia, 192

Discina, 129

Disston Canal, 134

Donax variabilis, 283

Dosinias, 282

Dredges, 318

Dryopteris ampla, 205

Drypetes keyensis, 162

Duck Key, 14

East Cape Sable, 76
East Coast Railway, 14
Eastern rocky ridge, 9

Florida, 20,

Eaton, A. A., 130
Ecastophyllum brownii, 238,
265

Echinoderms, 327
Egretta candtdtsstma, 112
Elephant, 145

Elliott’s Island, 155
Elliott’s Key, 28, 47, 154
Entada, 299

398

INDEX

Eolis, yacht, 302, 317, 318
Epidendrum anceps, ye
Epidendrum tampense, 99
Epitomium pernobilis, 325
Erigeron canadensis, 164
Erosion marks, 18
Erythrina arborea, 212
Eugenia buxifolia, 43, 153
Eugenia rhombea, 43
Eugenias, 275
Euglandina, 339
Eumeces fasciatus, 101
Eunice tatila, 385
Eurycotes ingens, 100
Euspongia, 299
Everglade Keys, 10
Everglade kite, 127
Everglades, 2, 4, 9, 10, 19, 29,
118, 143
Everglades Drainage District,
147 :
Exostema caribeum, 163.

Fasctolaria gigantea, 66

Fasciolaria princeps, 294

Fasciolarias, 284, 288, 293

Fatlathatchee River, 236

Fatsallehonetha River, 236

Ficus, 275

Ficus aurea, 60, 192, 195, 208,
251, 266, 270, 273, 377

Ficus brevifolia, 192, 270, 373

Flamingo, settlement, 35

Florida Bay, 14, 78

Florida City, 35

Florida East Coast Railway,

35, j

Florida Enchantments, 239

Florida Keys, 2, 32, 34, 35;
146, 152

Florida Plateau, ¢

Florida Strait, 151

Florida Trails, 72

Forstiera porulosa, 193

Hee ee 24, 134, 156,
15

Fort Myers, 134, 136

Fort Pierce, 157

Fulgur perversus, 66, 283
Fulgur pyrum, 66, 279
Fulgurs, 293

‘G

Galapagos, 326

Garriott’s West Indian Hurri-
canes, 154

Gastrocheznas, 314°

Gaura alba, 112

Gerard. de Brahm, Wm., 154

Glyptodon, 145

Gopher, 183

Gorgonia acerosa, 307

Gorgonia flabellum, 307

Gorgonias, 300, 303

Gorgonians, 312

Great brown sea bean, 162

Guettardia elliptica, 196

Guettardia scabra, 196

Guiana, 152

Guilandina, 152, 299

Gulf of Mexico, 16, 21, 60,
119, 147

Gulf Stream, 2, 4, 13, 33, 36)
81, 82, 150, 151, 331

Guppy's Observations, 148

Guzmannia, 380

Halimeda tridens, 309
Haliotis, 326

Haliotis pourtalesi, 326
Hammock, 100

Harney River, 65, 236
Harper, Roland, 180
Hawaii, 23, 148

Hawk Channel, 33, 155
Helicina, 311

Heliconias charitonius, 386

INDEX 399

Hemitrochus varians, 12
Henderson, John B., 315, 317
Herodias egretta, 112
Hippocratea volubilis, 229
Homestead country, 154, 161,

171

Hubbard, H. C., 184

Hudson, W. H., 91

Hyaleas, 332

Hydrocotyle umbellata, 248

Hyla, 356

Eyaoiocalles, 125, 153, 244,
2

I
ee paniculata, 193, 195,
365
Ilex cassine, 60, 193, 195,

ad
Ilex krugiana, 195
“Indian Hunting Ground,”

34
Indian River, 105, 157
Ipomea bona-nox, 364
Ipomea cathartica, 88
Ipomeaa fuchsioides, 162
Ipomea pes-capre, 44, 297
Isnardia repens, 248
Isomeria, 337, 338

Jamaica dogwood, 163
Janthina communis, 289, 290
anthinas, 288, 332
oe Kemp's Key, 14, 92, 109
ohnson’s Key, 37, 38
ordon and Evermann, 306
Jos River, 66, 236
Jussiea peruviana, 243

Kallima paralekta, 388
Key C, 42

Key Largo, 14, 15, 28, 33, 47

La Belle, 136

Labyrynthus, 337, 338
Lachnolaimus maximus, 312
Laguncularia, 261, 263

Lake Hicpochee, 137

Lake Okeechobee, 2, 118, 134
Lakpahahatchee River, 236
Lantana involucrata, 193 -
Laurel family, 182

Layne, J. E., 106

Lee County, 20

Lemna minor, 248

Lemon City, 20

Lepas, 280

Lepidium virginicum, 164
Lepisosteus, 128

Leptophys, 101

Leucena glauca, 160
Lignunvite Key, 12, 47
Liguus, 216, 339, 343, 344

345, 351
Liguus crenatus, 72, 88

Liguus fasciatus, 71, 88
Liguus solidus, 11, 51
Lima, 313

Limulus polyphemus, 277
Lingula, 129
Lithophagus, 314
Little Pine Key, 38, 57
Little River, 9, 236
Littoral flora, 7
Littorinide, 287, 335
Longley, W. H., 304
Looe Key, 45
Lostmans Key, 62

400

INDEX

Lostmans River, Limestone,

9
Louisiana, 169
Lower Florida, 6, 11, 146
Lower Glades, 135
Lower Keys, 13
Lower Matecumbe Key, 12
Lower Silurian, 128
Lucina, 183
Lucinas, 193
Luidias, 287
Lyell, Sir Charles, 105
Lysiloma, 50
Lysiloma bahamensis, 162

Macomas, 283, 293

Macrocallista gigantea, 282

Macrocallista maculata, 282

Madeira Bay, 108

Magnolia glauca, 161

Mangroves, 3, 4

Manicaria, 299

Marginella carnea, 294

Marginellas, 314

Marquesas Keys, 34, 41, 42

Mastodon, 145

Mayer, Alfred, 334

Meandrina, 306

Meduse, 332

Melastomacee, 161

Mellita, 287

Melongena corona, 66

Melongena melongena, 294

Melongenas, 284

Mentzilia floridana, 82

Mesozoic, 174

Metalia, 287

Metastelma, 88

Metopium, 50, 199

Metopium metopium, 43, 192,
195

Miami, 32, 183

Miami Hammock, 210

Miami region, 171

Miami River, 162, 236
Microgazas, 325

Middle Cape Sable, 75
Middle Ground Shoal, 45
Mid-Pleistocene elevation, 17
Mikania, 88

Millepores, 307
Mimusops emarginata, 86
Misantica triandra, 211
Mississippi Shoal, 45
Monniera, 248

Monroe County, 156
Morus rubra, 220

Moser Channel, 16
Mosier, Charles, 349
Mucuna, 298

Mud Hole Lake, 62

Mud Key, 37

Murex, 288

Murex beaui, 325

Murex pomum, 66
Murices, 293

Myrica, 244

Myrica cerifera, 193, 196
Myrsine, 199

Myrsine rapanea, 195

Nama, 125

Naples, 59

Natal grass, 165

Natural inarching, 226
Naturalist in La Plata, 91
Nephrolepis, 99

Nerita, 245, 287

Neritina reclivata, 244
Neritodryas, 245
Newfound Harbor Keys, 36
New River, 236

New River Inlet, 24
Noah's ark, 313
Noctilucas, 332

No Name Key, 47, 48, 51,

57
North Cuba, 151

INDEX

401

North New River Canal, 134

Northwest Cape Sable, 59, 75,
79; 97

Nullipores, 309

Nymphea, 125

oO
Observatsons upon the Flortdas,
2

Ocotea, 391

Ocypoda albicans, 278
Okeechobee, 4, 120

Old Landway, 14, 19
Old Rhodes Key, 26, 47
Oliva, 285

Oliva litterata, 284

Oliva reticularis, 294
Olivellas, 284

Oncidiun luridum, 106
Ophiuran, 327
Ophiurans, giant, 328
Orchestia, 279

Ostrea virginica, 66, 295
Otus asio, 355

Ovulide, 287

Ox eye beans, 152
Oxystyla, 72, 88, 343, 344,

352
Oxystyla floridensis, 339
Oxystyla resus, 12, 339
Oxystyla undata, 343

Packard, Winthrop, 72
Paguridz, 279

Panama, 148

Papaw, 160

Paradise Key, 73, 130, 156,

157
Pecten, 283 ’
Peninsula of Florida, 33
Peninsula of Larga, 154
Pentaceros, 287
Peperomia, 272

Peromiscus gossipium, 28

Persea borbonia, 193

Persea palustris, 195

Philbertella, 93

Phlebodium, 99

Pholads, 80, 314

Pholas costatus, 79

Photinus ardens, 359

Phragmites, 127

Phragmites communis, 247

Physalia, 332

Physalia arethusa, 280

Pinna, 288

Pinus caribea, 168

Pinus palustris, 180

Pisonia, 50

Pisonia aculeata, 228

Pisonia obtusatu, 158, 192

Pistia stratiotdes, 125

Pithecolobium, 50

Pithecolobium guadelupensis,
43, 158, 192, 194

Pithecolobiums, 153

Planorbis, 245

Plant and animal highway,

10
Pleistocene, 7, 9, 163
Pleistocene uplife, 11
Plesiosauri, 242
Pleurodonte, 337
Poa pretensts, 384
Polinices, 284.
Polinices duplicata, 279
Polynesia, 182
Polypodium polypodioides, 214
Ponce de Leon Bay, 65
Pontederia, 124
Porites, 307
Porpitas, 332
Portuguese man-of-war, 280,
332
Portulacca, 164
Pourtales, Count L. F., 318,

25
Bia ailae Plateau, 317
Priacanthus (?), 304

402 INDEX

Proserpinicas, 248
Protozoans, 332,
Psilotum triquetrum, 272
Pterodactyls, 345
Pteropods, 332
Pumpkin Key, 47
Punch Bowl, 18, 211
Pupillide, 43

Purpura floridana, 294
Purpura patula, 294
Purpuras, 287, 313
Putorius nigrescens, 247
Pyrrhanea portia, 385
Pyrulas, 284

Quaternary, 6
Quercus minima, 181
Quercus virginiana, 192, 195

Rafinesque, 238

Ragged Key Rock, 27
Ragged Keys, 27

Ramrod Key, 40

Rana catesbyana, 356

Rana virescens, 357

Randia aculeata, 194
Rapanea guianensis, 193
Rattus alexandrinus, 101
Rhabdadenia biflora, 238, 265
Rhapidophyllum hystrix, 146
Rhinoceros, 145

Rhizophora mangle, 254
Rhus obtusifolia, 212, 382
Reynosia latifolta, 153

Rita, 134, 138

Rodgers River, 36, 147, 236
Rodway, James, 225

Royal fern, 266

Sabal adansoni, 145
Sabal megacarpa, 176

Sabal palmetto, 98, 145

Saber toothed tiger, 145

Sagittaria, 125

St. Augustine, 106

Sambo Keys, 45

Sanford, Samuel, 11, 19

Sand Key, 43, 45

Sand Key reef, 317

Sands, A. J., 27

Sargassum nutans, 332

Saw palmetto, 145

Sawyer Key, 37

Saxicavas, 314

Scala pretiosa, 325

Scalas, 325

Scaphiopus holbrooki, 357

Scarus ceruleus, 304

Scirpus validus, 123

Sea shells, abundant, 79

Sea urchins, 308

Seminole Indians, 62

Seminoles, 138

Serenoa serrulata, 145

Sesuvium portulacasirum, 44,
207

Setaria magna, 122

Shark River Archipelago, 67,
66, 236

Sidas, 165

Sigmodon hispidus, 28

Silver palm, 276

Simarouba glauca, 158

Siphonarias, 287

Small, Dr. John K., 10, 78,
8 j

9
Smilax, 88
Snake Creek, 236, 240
Snapper Creek, 236
Soldier Key, 35
South Carolina, 169
Sphagnum, 274
Spirula, 299
Spisula similis, 281
Spisula solidissima, 282
Sporobalus, 165
Sporobalus indicus, 386

INDEX

403

Steamer Bibb, 325
Stejneger, Leonhard, 238
Sterna antillarum, 44
Stimpson, William, 326
Strombus, 314

Strombus gractlior, 294
Strombus pugilis, 294
Sugarloaf Key, 38
Summerland Key, 38
Suriana maritima, 297

Talesia pedicillaris, 211

Tampa, 6

Tampa Bay, 105

Taylor River, 131, 236

Tecoma stans, 385

Tellina brasiliana, 79

Tellinas, 283, 288, 293, 314

Ten Thousand Islands, 20, 35,
61, 65, 70, 72, 74, 147

Tetrazygia bicolor, 16f, 196

Thalassia, 262, 302

Thalia, 125

The Glades, 118

“The Hummocks,”’ 3;

Thelyphonus giganteus, 100

The Sea Beach at Ebb Tide,
280 '

Thrinax floridana, 85)

Thrinax keyensts, 42 |

Thrinax wendlandzane, 43, 86

Torch Key, 38

Torrey, Bradford, 214

Tortugas, 2, 23, 41, 154

Tournfortia, 44

Tournfortia gnaphaloides, 297

Trema floridana, 50, a 195;

199
Tricholena, 165 i
Tricholena rosea, 384 |
Trilobites, 278 ‘
Trinidad Island, 216 ,
Tripsacum dactyloides, 122

Tropical leaves, 222

Tropic of Cancer, 331
Turners River, 65

Typha angustifolia, 125, 243

Uca, 267

Ultimus gibbosus, 314

Upper Eocene, 6

Upper Glades, 120, 135
Upper Keys, 10, 12, 72, 162
Upper Mississippi Valley,

135
Utilla Island, Honduras, 150
V

Vasum cestus, 294
Vasum muricatum, 294
Vellela limbosa, 281
Vellelas, 332

Venus cancellata, 293, 294
Venus listert, 294
Venus mercenaria, 282
Venus mortont, 67, 293
Vicksburg Group, 6
Vignoles, Charles, 28
Virginia, 20

Vitis munsoniana, 382
Volutes, 325

Washerwoman Shoal, 46
Weikiva Inlet, 236

Western group of keys,,41
West Harbor Key, 37

West Indian plants, 7

West Indies, 166

West Summerland Keys, 36
White, Gilbert, 355

404

INDEX

Whitewater Bay, 9, 61, 66,
104
White Water Lake, 76
Wild cinnamon, 97
Willoughby, Hugh L.,
233, 239
Windley’s Island, 33
x

140,

Xerobates polyphemus, 183
Ximenia americana, 179, 193

Y
Yucatan, 21
Yucca alotfolia, 297
Z

Zamia floridana, 145, 175
Zamia pumila, 145, 174
Zanthoxylum, 212
Zanthoxylum clava-herculis,

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Full text of "In lower Florida wilds; a naturalist's observations on the life, physical geography, and geology of the more tropical part of the state"

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