The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1919-02-27
G. R. Maize Writes
Of Camping Trip
To East Coast
CHAPTER III.
(By R. G. Maize.)

COuIu BtI Lue CdDlH WdTmcu up my
wife got breakfast. We piddlec
around toasting our shins till about
noon and had about decided to pack
up and go on to st. Augustine, but an
old lady-a typical Cracker from
Georgia-came over and coaxed me
to 60 fishing with her son, boy
about IA years old. So We agreed to
stay over, and put in about two
hours of the hardest work I ever
done digging bait, so as to be ready
the next morning. Lacy was the boys
name. and he told me to be ready by
daybreak. My heart nearly failed
me at the thought of such an early
start and it so cold. But wouldn't
let boy of IA bluff me, so I went to
bed early and at 5 o'clock was up
with a big fat fire roaring in the fire.
place. Invent out and looked around
The moon was full and the ground
was white with frost, but I made
ready, coat, sweater, cap. gloves.
wool underwear, ETC.. and waited.
About 1880 or quarter to eight he
showed up and said he oversight. /
was little glad Of it only didn't
let on. We got our bait and tackle
and started. We walked about a
mile northwest through some logged
off pine land, then came to another
curiosity, footbridge across a
swamp. It was over a mile long and
was made Of fallen trees, poles,
stumps, cypress knees and some.
times just plain mud. The logs had
been used so much they were slick
and, believe me, It was some job to
mold your balance and footing, and II
was necessary that you keep them
for the ground was mass Of Shiny
mud and oozing gasses. Well after
thirty minutes OF the hardest kind o:
work we finally arrived safely on the
other side; then another hike Of one
half a mile to poor little sorry cab
in. I shall dwell lightly on this
cabin and its inhabitants. There
were two rooms in It. There was ar
emery, scrawny, dirty, slouchy look
ing man, bare-footed. bare-headed
Just an old dirty shirt and filthy
pair of overalls fastened on with a
string. There was a hole in one
knee and you could see the dirty
skin through. He had not been
shaved for weeks and his hair grew
from his eyes up, all around his head
and was partly gray. His name was
Walter something or other and was
from Georgia. It seemed about thirty
years ago he had the measles and
had been poorly ever since; IN fact,
was scarcely able to work at all at
times. He had a wife. I shall ask
to be excused from describing her.
There were FIVE children, nearly six,
ranging from nothing to eight or nine
and dirty as the dirtiest Of pigs. They
all came out and stared at us as we
approached the house. We called to
borrow their boat for I found we
were going to fish on Deep creek and
needed a boat to get out among the
hyacinths. Anyway We got the boat
after a lot Of talking on Iacy's part.
l forgot to state this family had an
old sorry mule, three or four pigs and
some chickens and three hound
dogs. Getting permission to use the
boat and shouldering the oars we
sailed forth once more and for near
ly mile we trudged on through
semi-cypress swamp land and finally
arrived at the river. If was a long
haired, dreamy-eyed poet and had
sufficient gift of CAB I might posi-.
bly, describe this beautiful piece OF
semi-tropical scenery. It is grand
and is beyond description, and. be-
lieve me, it was some Deep creek.
Have you ever seen the deep, heavily
wooded pictures of a typical Florida
river? With the sky scraping cypress.
the bending naples leaning over the
water with a few wild palms and
sufficient amount Of underbrush. witt.
boat floating quietly along and the
water almost like glass and the at ,
mosphere so still that 1t was painful?
Well, said picture was crude imi-
tation compared with Deep creek and
the surrounding scenery. 1t nearly
took my breath away and all had
went through with was nothing com
pared to the reward.
(Continued.)
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