The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-12-03
SHARING THE GATOR
How an Old Florida Hunter
Does the Act.
SNAKES ALSO HIS PREY
Story of a Queer Trip in the
Everglades

The few remnants of the once power
full tribe of Seminoles live on the island
keys of the Everglades, unditurbed and
picturesquely primitive In their habits
and ambitions They have never been
tanned nor conquered. After their fatal
defeat by the United States soldiers in
the battle of the Everglades, they dis
persed, and took up their residence in
small detachments on the islands in the
heart of the great swamp Here they
hunt, fish and loaf, says writer from
Jacksonville, Florida, in the New York
Evening Post.
1t was the crusade against Florida S
birds of plumage for millinery purposes
that first attracted hunters in numbers
to the Everglades, and they swarmed
through the dismal swamp until the
glades echoed with the crack of the rifle
and shotgun The plume-hunters cannot
be blamed SO much for the destruction
Of bird life as the milliners who set the
fashion of wearing wild-bird plumes on
hats, and the women who adopted the
cruel custom. For years the hunters of
large game had killed the bear, the wild
| turkey and the water fowl along the
! edges of the Everglades, but the snowy
! egret, the beautiful cranes, and the wild
parroquets were rarely disturbed. They
| abounded in numbers in the swamp, and
| experienced no fear at the approach of
hunter. But today the haunts of the
swamp are ali but voiceless, and the
| flight Of the agret or crane rarely dis
turbs the dismal gloom of the low woods.
In the shifting of any industry there
are always some who stay on the old
scenes, and make up in invention what
they have lost through the natural order
Of transition. In the heart of the Ever
glades there Is one such character. Cap
tain Joe Sears, locally known as Captain
Joe, plies his peculiar trade in birds and
animals on the Caloosa hatchie and the
streams and lagoons of the Everglades.
Captain Joe was originally river-trader,
but the railroads and steamboat lines
ruined and abolished the old Florida
river trade, and Captain joe after lin
gering In the business to the last, re-
luctantly changed his mode of life, and
went to plume and alligator hunting. He
followed up the river course on his old
craft, and lived and hunted from the
able than selling miscellaneous mer-
chandise. But birds became scarce, and
the plume-hunters were threatened with
starvation. Captain Joe was stranded in
Fort Myers on the Caloosahatch at the
time. The old Emma, the flat-bottomb
river-boat was converted into a house
boat, whose duplicate does not exist on
the waters of any country. When I
made the acquaintance of Captain Joe
the house-boat was perfectly adapted to
her mission in life, and he was provision
ing her for a regular trip to the Ever
glades.
I did not understand the nature of the
craft, nor exactly its strange mission IN
life, when I agreed to accompany the
captain on a trip to the heart of the
dense swamp. A desire to visit the/l
'glades, and sail on Lake Okeechobee,
and possibly see the fSeminoles in their
jungle fastness, was responsible for a
more intimate acquaintance with the old
river trader. For several days after the
craft was put in order for sailing we
waited for a favorable wind and tide to
carry US up the Caloosahatchie. When
we cut adrift, an ample expanse of yell |
low, widowed sail caught the strong
breeze blowing up from the Gulf, and |
propelled us up the river All that day |
and far into the night, we progressed |
spasmodically and by morning our wide |
waterway had narrowed until either |
shore was barely ten yards away.
When we entered the Everglades on the |
outer edge, the scenry assumd a more |
tropical appearance. Vast cypress trees
lowered up out of the shallow water.
and trailing vines stretched from their
branches in aerial festoons to the over
hanging foliage on the bank. Thousands |
of insects hummed anr buzzed about the /
air-pIants that blossomed in the branches
of the trees. At night the swamp was
not voiceless. The croaking of frogs. the
croakng of bull alligators. and the
night cries Of birds formed an orchestra
that was less musical than interesting.
AS the river narrowed and the forest
vegetation grew more rank, the progress
OF the housed boat became slower The
Gulf winds lost their force in the laby-
rinth of tropical growths, and we fire.
quently had to resort to polling or rowing
Fortunately the boat moved easily and
we were in no hurry. Occasionally a fall
len tree stretched from bank to bank
across the river. and 1t had to be chop
ped in two before We could pass. In
places the river widened INTO lagoons 50
broad that it seemed as If we must have
reached our journeys end.
For two weeks We drifted and poled 10
the river, and it was not until We had
reached our hunting grounds that I was
TO the interior OF the house
boat, forward OF our living quarters.
When We dropped anchor in q beautiful
lagoon where the shadows Of the trees in
the water were reflected as distinctly as
in mirror, Captain Joe said:
Wen get the meHagevie ready to mor-
row mornin.' It gets stale an nuety
down here, an the critters don't Ike e.
I amt partickler' boutthej II eeltn'z. bat
they have an uncommon mean way %
dyin' on yer hands If you don't clean an
air the cages Tor en- once IN while. I
s pose the quarters Is kind % close
We explored the interior Of the queen.
craft early next morning. and BY the
light OF tailow candle J saw rows z
boxes. cages and grated compartments
II one end of tha hold was 2 huge tank
ike case with glass front To my ~
1ui-y a. To the nature Of thls. Captain
Joe answered IscoaloaIy:
That's for snakes"
And these cages-xhat are ,hey forer'
"wld-cats mostly; bears uaeSae-ary-
thing that happens TO turn up Last trsp
took back w,ith me a hDe pair of alack