mammiferous mastodon and megatherium, which furnish material for study that takes us back to the earliest history of the world, before giants lived, or Adam was made out of the red clay, to enter Eden and participate in its primeval glories. When those creatures, that now only excite our wonder, walked the earth, covered with their piles of flesh, moving with majestic tread the uninhabited globe, the sloth was then the size of an ox, the bear as large as a horse. Portions of vertebræ belonging to the mastodon giganticus—a race of elephants that lived during the tertiary period—have been discovered here, measuring eleven feet in height, with a body seventeen feet in length, and a huge tail over six feet long. The bones of this animal, when exhumed, were found in marl-pits, or salt-licks containing saline matter, to which may be attributed their remarkable preservation. Their grinding-teeth were adapted to a much coarser article of diet than that consumed by elephants of the present period. They have also been called “the hairy elephant.” Was it not the mammoth megatherium that furnished the aborigines with material for pointing their spears and manufacturing their bone implements, the remains of which are now frequently found beneath the tumuli of Florida? The megatherium was a contemporary of the mastodon—a few bones having been exhumed in South Florida; but Skiddaway, on the coast of Georgia, has furnished remains of the most perfect and interesting specimens of this animal ever found in North America, discovered in 1855. This herbivorous creature belonged to an extinct species of sloth, which had ribs measuring more than three inches in width, and teeth nine inches long, its thigh-bones being three times the thickness of those of the largest elephant, with fore-feet one yard in length, a body eighteen feet long, and its massive tail two feet in diameter, which enabled the animal to balance its body while feeding, and also use it as a weapon of defense. The weight of its hind-legs and tail prevented it from somersaulting while cutting down trees with its teeth.
CHAPTER XX.
FORTY miles from Manatee is to be seen the remains of Tampa. Your morning slumbers will not be interrupted here by the hammers of rude workmen, who are usually so inconsiderate for the comfort of others in their noisy movements. During the Florida war this town boasted more prosperity than at any subsequent period. It was then a military station for the soldiers, and depot for army supplies; also a kind of central point for this portion of the State. Here the Indians were ordered to report before being sent West. Its early settlement was commenced under difficulties by Navaraez, who, in 1828, landed at Tampa Bay, and, after penetrating some portions of the interior, returned and sailed for Cuba, leaving one of his companions—Juan Ortiz—whom the Indians had captured without his knowledge. The extreme youth of Ortiz excited sympathy among the Indian women, who rescued him from being burned, but the men made him feel the bitterness of bondage, until his life became a burden. They required him during their festal-days to run the gauntlet for their amusement, his celerity on these occasions saving him from death. As a variety in his servitude, he was employed to watch through long, wearisome nights in the graveyard. The Indians then buried their dead above ground in boxes, placing only a rock on the lid—the bodies being frequently dragged out by animals. Poor Ortiz had been so miserable while among the living that he now looked to the dead for an amelioration of his condition. Armed with his bow and arrow, he stood as sentry over the silent slumberers, when, unfortunately, one night he sunk into a somnambulistic state himself. The body of an infant was missing, the falling lid awakening him. Ortiz followed in the direction of the retreating footsteps, when he discovered a panther, which he instantly shot, and secured the corpse. For this act of bravery he was taken into favor by the Indians, and soon afterward rescued from their caprices and cruelties by De Soto, who landed in 1539, he having sailed from Cuba. He came with more display of pageantry than America had ever seen before, entering the waters of Tampa Bay on Whitsunday—hence he named it Espiritu Santo. The geography of the country fought against those who tried to penetrate its recesses—passing through morasses below sea-level was accompanied with greater difficulties than they had imagined before trying the experiment. After their arrival, most of their time was spent in feasting and rioting, more becoming a returning triumph than an entrance into a new country. The Indians made a descent on them one night after a bacchanalian revel, wounding three of their number, notwithstanding the heavy armor in which their bodies were incased. De Soto soon left this country in search of other conquests and greater treasures than awaited him here. On account of the remoteness of Tampa from the other early settlements in the State, it was occupied almost entirely by Indians until during the Florida war. Billy Bowlegs was chief of the tribe here, but lived near Manatee. His last visit to the commander was performed under great difficulties, the army head-quarters being in Tampa. He was permitted to remain in the territory, on account of his peaceable inclinations, after his tribe had been ordered to the West. Such was the desire and anxiety of this aged chieftain to see the military commandant face to face, and give him renewed assurances of fidelity to his engagements, in hope of silencing the clamors of white alarmists, a report of which had reached him, that the weight of infirmities under which he was laboring was insufficient to stop him, the journey being performed under circumstances that gave conclusive evidence of his peaceful intentions. So great, indeed, was his decrepitude, that during his last days—being wholly unable to travel, even on horseback—he was borne on a litter on the shoulders of his men.
In consideration of the fine timber which surrounds Tampa, two mills are employed—one in sawing cedar, the other pine. The cedar here is of much finer quality than the upland, containing more oil. At the mill it is sawed into pencil-lengths, after which it is packed in boxes, and shipped to New York, and other points, for making pencils. The cabbage-palm grows in the vicinity, and is much used in building wharves—it not being effected by the sea-water, and resisting the attacks of the Teredo Navalis, which destroys the hulls of vessels when made of any other timber but this, which it never molests.
The schools here are not considered by many as important institutions, consequently are in rather an embryo condition. We visited one taught in the court-house. This structure, not unlike many others in the vicinity, is among the things that lack symmetry and sound timbers. The present incumbent in charge of this school is a genuine specimen of the Illinois backwoods race. His visage looked blank as the door before which he sat chewing the Virginia weed, and firing jets of juice, evidently making a bigger effort with his jaws than his brains. His pupils were undergoing a heavy cramming process. Meaningless, incomprehensible words were being wedged into their heads so tightly they never could be got out, either for use or ornament. How those bright-eyed little boys were martyring auxiliary perfect passive participles and verbs! One fact was evident: if they had a better auxiliary to instruct them, they would have a more luxuriant growth of intellect than they were obtaining under the present regimen.
We do not take leave of this place as of a dear friend. Its deep sandy sidewalks are any thing but inviting for promenaders. The decaying structures and dilapidated fences remind us of old age, “when the keepers of the house shall tremble.” The place looks discouraged from sheer weariness in trying to be a town. The hotel-keepers are wishing for a few guests which they could relieve of three dollars per diem. The merchants appear anxious, as though they wanted somebody to come and make purchases. They are of that class which look at everybody with an eye to business, wondering how much money they can grind out of each customer in a given space of time.
Old Tampa, many years ago, was considered a famous resort for consumptives. Persons advanced in life, from all parts, now speak in glowing terms of the uniform temperature of its atmosphere. But indifferent houses of entertainment, charging exorbitant rates, will soon ruin the popularity of any place. Fort Brooke, of Indian fame, is found here. It was originally designed as a means of defense during the Florida wars. It is now a desolate, tumble-down old place. The fine site it occupies, together with some ancient-looking water-oaks, standing like sentinels, is all that is to be seen in the least degree attractive. The Federal Government has been paying eighteen hundred dollars per annum to keep the place from being destroyed, while no one would be willing to make an investment of that amount for the entire contents, land and all.