On the 25th of February 1832, I happened to be far up the St John’s River in East Florida, in the company of a person employed by our
o-overnment in protecting the live-oaks of that section of the country,
and who received a good salary for his trouble. While we were pro-
ceeding along one of the banks of that most singular stream, my com-
panion pointed out some large hummocks of dark-leaved trees on the
opposite side, which he said were entirely formed of live oaks. I
thouo-ht differently, and as our controversy on the subject became a
little warm, I proposed that our men should row us to the place, where
we mio-ht examine the leaves and timber, and so decide the point. We
soon landed, but after inspecting the woods, not a single tree of the spe-
cies did we find, although there were thousands of large " swamp-oaks."
My companion acknowledged his mistake, and I continued to search for
birds.
One dark evening as I was seated on the banks of the same river, con- sidering what arrangements I should make for the nighi, as it began to rain in torrents, a man who happened to see me, came up and invited me to go to his cabin, which he said was not far off. I accepted his kind offer, and followed him to his humble dwelling. There I found his wife, several children, and a number of men, who, as my host told me, were, like himself, Live-Oakers. Supper was placed on a large table, and on being desired to join the party, I willingly assented, doing my best to di- minish the contents of the tin pans and dishes set before the company by the active and agreeable housewife. We then talked of the country, its climate and productions, until a late hour, when we laid ourselves down on bears' skins, and reposed till day-break.
I longed to accompany these hardy wood-cutters to the hummock where they were engaged in preparing live-oak timber for a man of war. Provided with axes and guns, we left the house to the care of the wife and children, and proceeded for several miles through a pine-barren, such as I have attempted to describe. One fine wild Turkey was shot, and when we arrived at the Shantee put up near the hummock, we found an- other party of wood-cutters waiting our arrival, before eating their break- fast, already prepared by a Negro man, to whom the turkey was consign- ed to be roasted for part of that day's dinner.
Our repast was an excellent one, and vied with a Kentucky breakfast: beef, fish, potatoes, and other vegetables, were served up, with
