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Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida

CHAPTER XXV. ALLIGATOR SHOOTING ON BLACK CREEK. After supper I returned the visit of Mr. Garbrook, the owner and captain of the little steam-yacht. She was a perfect beauty, and, small as she was, she had two state-rooms for the owner and his family, and a nice little cabin. The whole ship's company besides the owner, consisted of an engineer and a boy. Forward of the engine were a cook-room, a little cabin, and the pilot-house, the latter so small that only one person could occupy it at the same time. "Who is the cook?" I asked, wondering how he managed to run the boat with only two hands. "Sometimes the boy does the cooking, and sometimes I do it; but we don't live very high on board," said Mr. Garbrook, laughing. "We take most of our meals on shore when we are near a hotel." "I think I should prefer a little more room," I added. "So should I; but a steamer of your size draws too much water. I have an orange plantation back of Picolata; I have to run up Five-Mile Creek to reach it by water; and it is not deep enough for such a craft as I would like," added Mr. Garbrook. "I was thinking of going up Black Creek to-morrow, to Middleburg; but I cannot find a pilot. I was going to ask your party to accompany us," continued the owner of the little steamer. "I think I can furnish the pilot," I replied. "Your steamer draws too much water for Black Creek, or I suppose you would run up to Middleburg in her. A great many parties make this excursion." "I don't know that I ever heard of Black Creek before," I replied, wondering that Cornwood had not mentioned it. Perhaps our guide did not know about Black Creek; and I pulled out of my pocket the "Suggestions" he had written out for the trip; but I could not find the name in it. If there was anything in Florida that Cornwood was not familiar with, I desired to know what it was. It would be a real enjoyment to me to find that he was not competent to pilot the little steam-yacht up Black Creek. I was instructed to invite all our party to the excursion, if I could bring a pilot for the occasion. I returned to the Sylvania, and I thought I would invite the party before I said anything to the pilot. I gave them what information I had obtained in regard to Black Creek and Middleburg, and they were ready to accept the invitation. I found Cornwood on the forecastle, smoking his cigar, and opened the matter by informing him that the party were going up Black Creek the next day. "But this boat draws too much water to go up to Middleburg," said the pilot, promptly. "She can't go half-way up there." "But we are to go in that little steam-yacht," I added. "That's another thing; I dare say she would go up if there was nothing but a little fog under her," laughed Cornwood. "But we wish you to pilot her up the creek," I continued. "I will do it with the greatest pleasure," he answered. I was taken aback by this ready reply, for I had felt confident that I had found something the Floridian could not do. "You did not mention Black Creek in the paper you wrote," I suggested. "Neither did I mention Lake Griffin, because it would be impossible to get up there in a boat drawing eight feet of water," replied Cornwood. The pilot was not to be caught. I sent word to Mr. Garbrook that our party would be happy to join his family in the excursion up Black Creek, and that I would furnish a pilot. I noticed considerable activity on board of the Gazelle, for that was the name of the steam-yacht, after I sent the message. I had heard nothing of Griffin Leeds during the day. Though I had no doubt he was in Green Cove Springs, he made no attempt to come on board. I concluded that he intended to wait for a more favorable opportunity to recover possession of his wife; but I was determined that no such chance should be afforded to him. At nine in the morning we went on board of the Gazelle, and she weighed anchor immediately. Cornwood took possession of the pilot-house, declaring that he had never been confined in a canary-bird's cage before. But he was good-natured about it, and when the boy had got up the anchor, Cornwood rang the bell to start the engine. Everything worked as regularly as though the little yacht had been a steamer of a thousand tons. The pilot ran the boat down the river about a mile below Magnolia, and then stood into an inlet, at the head of which we found the stream. It was a considerable river, but Cornwood seemed to be quite at home in it. It was a crooked stream, but the pilot ran from one side to the other, talking to me all the time with the utmost indifference. I observed him for a couple of hours, until I was entirely satisfied that he knew what he was about, and then joined the party astern. It was seldom that a steamer disturbed the waters of Black Creek, never in these days, except when a party of curious excursionists desired to explore the lonely region. The Gazelle made about eight knots an hour, and at eleven o'clock we were fast to a dilapidated pier at the ruined town of Middleburg. It lay about half-way between the St. Johns and the Atlantic, Gulf and West India Company's Railroad, extending from Fernandina to Cedar Keys, on the Gulf of Mexico, intended as part of a quick route to Havana. The building of this railroad, by diverting from it the trade and transportation of a considerable region of country, had utterly ruined Middleburg, and it was as lone and deserted as Pompeii under the ashes of Vesuvius. Hardly a family was to be found in its abandoned houses. A glance at the ruins was enough to satisfy the party, especially as Cornwood warned us not to enter the houses, or we should be covered with fleas. These pests are not uncommon in Florida. Green Cove Springs formerly had some, which were supposed to be scattered through the place by the pigs that ran at large. The evil was corrected by keeping them out of the village. The fleas were a vastly greater terror to the ladies than the alligators, of which there were a great many in the creek. Its quiet waters, not often disturbed by steamers, afforded them a peaceful retreat. Owen and Colonel Shepard had brought their guns with them, and had fired at some of the larger ones seen on the shore; but the saurians might have laughed at them, if they were given to expressing themselves in that manner. Cornwood smiled every time one of them fired. We ran up the "North Prong" of the river a few miles. Under the shade of some spreading oaks we stopped for the lunch which our host had provided. It had been obtained at the hotels, and after our sail we were in condition to enjoy it. The alligators were larger and more plentiful, and while the Gazelle was at rest they were more disposed to show themselves on the sandy beach above us. Owen and the Colonel fired at them several times; but they seemed to take no notice of the shots, and the pilot laughed as usual. "You haven't graduated as alligator sportsmen yet," said Cornwood when they had wasted a large quantity of powder and ball. "You might as well fire at an iron-clad, as at the back and sides of an alligator as large as those are." Owen handed him his gun, which was one of the most expensive pieces, intended for deer and other large game. The pilot loaded it himself, and said he should try for the largest reptile in the group on the beach. He fired. The alligator gave a spring, and began to flounder in the sand, while his companions deserted him, taking to the water. In another moment he was dead. "What do you aim at, Mr. Cornwood?" asked Owen, with admiration at the skill of the Floridian. "It depends on circumstances," replied the pilot. "If the alligator is in such a position that I can take him in the eye, as that one was, and send the ball diagonally through his head, I fire at the eye. If he lies so that I can put the ball in behind his forward flipper, and have it pass forward, I take him there. Sometimes he is in such a position that you can't hit him in either of these places, and it is no more use to fire at him than it is to shoot into the water." "You made an end of that fellow, at any rate," added Colonel Shepard. "I think we had better run over and take a look at him." The pilot ran the boat near enough to the beach so that we could jump ashore. I took a measure with me, and the alligator proved to be ten feet and four inches long. Owen considered himself a good shot, and he was somewhat mortified at his ill-success in shooting the saurian. We ran farther up the creek till we saw another group of them on the sand. The steam was shut off as soon as they came in sight around a bend. The boat went ahead a considerable distance after the screw stopped. On this beach were a number of parallel crooked lines, where the alligators had crawled on the sand. One of the reptiles raised his head, and seemed to be in doubt whether or not he should take to the water at the approach of the steamer. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/004.jpg" alt="Alligator Shooting on Black Creek" width-obs="550" height-obs="353"> Alligator Shooting on Black Creek. Page 259.</div> Owen raised his piece and fired. All but one of the alligators scurried into the water, and disappeared. One remained on the beach motionless. The Gazelle was started, and on reaching the shore we found the reptile was as dead as he could be. He was larger than the other, his length being eleven feet and two inches. My cousin wanted to take him back to the Springs, and we hauled him on the forecastle of the little steamer. Cornwood gave the Englishman abundant praise for what he had done. After three attempts farther up the stream, Colonel Shepard shot one seven feet long. This was considered enough for one day, and we started on the return. At six we put our party on board of the Sylvania, with many thanks to Mr. Garbrook for the pleasure of the excursion. We had no further business in Green Cove Springs; but Owen insisted that we must reciprocate the hospitality of the Garbrooks, and I was asked to plan an excursion for the next day. There was no locality above Jacksonville to which our friends had not been; and I proposed to breakfast the Gazelle's people on board, and starting at six in the morning make a trip to Fort George Island, where the Garbrooks had never been, or even below Jacksonville on the river. The plan was received with acclamation, and I hastened on board of the Gazelle to present the invitation of Owen. Our party were all up at five the next morning, for they did not omit the swimming-bath a single day while they were at the Springs; and they returned in season for the Sylvania, which had hauled up to the pier to start on the excursion at the appointed hour. Washburn had filled the bunkers of the steamer with light wood, which is plenty and cheap on the St. Johns, and made steam very rapidly. I told Moses Brickland to make the best time he could with safety, and at the breakfast-hour I found we were making twelve knots. Our guests were delighted with the steamer. In the forenoon, as we had a strong southerly breeze, I put on all sail, as much to show the Garbrooks how it was done, as for any other reason. This operation showed off our sailors, and pleased all the party. At eleven we reached our destination; and after lunch the party landed, and spent three hours in visiting the various localities on the island. At three we sailed again, and reached our destination at eight. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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