The skipper told us they were called ’coon oysters, as the racoons are very fond of them, or perhaps can get at them with greater ease than they can obtain the common oyster. While we were watching the shore, sure enough a racoon came down, and seizing several oysters which hung just below the surface, picked them off the branch, and shaking them violently backwards and forwards, ran back with his prize to a convenient spot on the beach, where, with his teeth and claws, he opened the shells, and speedily devoured the contents. Presently we saw him dart into the water, and return with a handful of shrimps, which his keen eyes had perceived; and he again immediately sat himself down to devour them, giving each of them a pinch as he placed them by his side. He appeared perfectly fearless of the neighbourhood of the vessel, though, no doubt, had we been on shore with our dogs and guns, he would quickly have concealed himself.
Lejoillie remained in the bows of the vessel watching its movements with his gun ready. As soon as the poor ’coon had finished its meal, destined to be its last, he fired, and over it fell, though still struggling violently. Tim and another man immediately jumped into the boat, and pulling to the shore, quickly put it out of pain, and brought it on board. It was about the size of a fox, being somewhat larger than the common racoon. Lejoillie called it the agouara, and our skipper said it was the crab-eater. The fur was of a blackish-grey, with a tinge of yellow. The tail was somewhat short and marked, with six black rings on a greyish ground.
As there was but little chance of our making progress for some hours to come, after breakfast we pulled off in the boat to secure some fish for dinner. Our skipper possessed a species of harpoon called grains, which consists of a two-pronged iron-headed barb, about ten inches in length. The head is loosely slipped into a socket at the end of a staff about twelve feet long, and the two are connected by a rope. A double prong is used for catching fish, but for killing turtle a single-pronged barbed head is employed, as it pierces the shell more easily. We had not gone far when Captain Crump, standing up in the bows like an old Triton, lowered his weapon close to the water; it flew from his hand, and immediately afterwards he drew up a red-fish of about twelve pounds weight, and threw it into the bottom of the boat. He then stood ready for another stroke. Again he darted down the deadly weapon. The head, which had a long line attached to it, by slipping off at once from the staff, remained sticking in the fish, which, after being allowed to struggle so as to exhaust its strength, was hauled on board. Three or four other fish having been caught in the same way, we had an ample supply for ourselves and dogs. We pulled back to the schooner, on our way collecting, off a bank, a number of fine oysters, very superior to those which the ’coons are addicted to eating.
At length a light breeze sprang up, sufficient to carry us at a slow rate down the sound. We passed vast numbers of the Florida cormorants—a small species, which breeds in the mangrove islets. They were feeding on shoals of mullet, which rushed along the surface of the water, endeavouring to escape the attacks of sharks, porpoises, and other cruel foes beneath the surface. The cormorants, however, did not have it all their own way; for, watching their opportunity, numbers of ospreys and pelicans incessantly splashed down among them to rob them of their prey. Whenever we brought up, we pulled off in the boat to supply ourselves with fish, which we seldom failed to take with hook and line, even when the skipper was unsuccessful with his grains. We baited with land-crabs, which abound in the mangrove swamps. Frequently within a quarter of an hour we caught red-fish, dark-fleshed jack, and black and white banded sheep’s-heads, in numbers sufficient to feed all on board. Indeed, we agreed that no one need starve in Florida, if only provided with guns and ammunition, hooks, lines, and harpoons.
At length Jupiter Inlet was reached. It is narrow, and very shallow, and is occasionally closed by a strong easterly gale. We were now once more in the open sea, steering southward for Key Biscayne, at the north end of a line of keys or islets which sweep round the whole southern coast of Florida. Our skipper kept a sharp look-out for wrecks, numbers of which occur on this dangerous coast. His object was, he said, to assist the crews, and to take possession of the cargoes. There were, he told us, a number of vessels so employed—cutters and schooners constantly cruising about in search of wrecks. Their skippers were honest men; but there were others—“beach-combers,” he called them—who not only plundered shipwrecked crews, but endeavoured to allure to their destruction, by means of false lights, any vessels approaching the coast. Many a stout ship has thus been lost, their crews miserably perishing.
Although our skipper spoke with just indignation of such a mode of proceeding, he had no objection whatever, when a ship was on shore, to get out of her all the booty he could obtain. We passed the skeletons of several wrecks; but they had long before been visited by the ever-vigilant wreckers, and everything of value on board carried away.
Lejoillie had a great desire to visit the Everglades—a large tract extending over the greater part of the southern end of Florida. It consists of a vast plain of coarse saw-grass; above which, here and there, rise well-wooded and fertile islands, composed of coral rock of a crescent form, which they assumed when first forced up, by some convulsion of nature, above the surface of the ocean. The plain is swampy; and down it narrow channels exist, which drain the water in a great measure towards the west.
As our skipper wished to obtain some cocoa-nuts which grew abundantly on the shore, and proposed to employ the time of our absence in catching turtle, he consented to bring up for a few hours; advising us to keep a sharp look-out for Indians, and to avoid them, as they would certainly rob us, and perhaps take our lives, should they find us off our guard. He offered to allow one of his crew to accompany us, who, being well acquainted with the country, and a good sportsman—as most wreckers are—would act as our guide.