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Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida

CHAPTER XXIX. A MYSTERIOUS SHOT. Indian River, Halifax River, Mosquito Lagoon, and half a dozen rivers, sounds, lagoons, lakes, and inlets on the Atlantic coast of Florida, are different names for the same shallow body of water, separated from the main ocean by a narrow strip of sand, which extends north and south for two hundred miles. Indian River extends from about twenty-five miles north of Titusville to the inlet, a distance of one hundred miles. But Banana River and Mosquito Inlet are separated from it only by Merritt's Island, so that these bodies of water overlap each other. The water in these inlets is often not more than three feet deep, so that no large vessels can navigate them. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/006.jpg" alt="An Expedition to Indian River" width-obs="550" height-obs="345"> An Expedition to Indian River. Page 292.</div> A few years ago a company was formed, having for its purpose the deepening of the upper St. Johns as far as Lake Washington, about forty miles south of the point where the Wetumpka lay, and cutting a canal across to Indian River, not more than eight miles. No progress, however, seems to have been made in the enterprise. We found three cat-rigged boats at Titusville, which we had no difficulty in procuring. The ladies would not allow us to leave them at the settlement, though Cornwood intimated that we might have a rough time of it. Mr. Garbrook, Cornwood, and myself served as skippers, and we were all thoroughly acquainted with the business. The boats were about the size of the Lakebird, in which I had voyaged in the roughest weather of Lake St. Clair; and as we had only four persons in each boat, we were not crowded. I had Colonel Shepard, Mr. and Miss Tiffany in the boat with me. Our first business was to obtain a supply of bait, which was easily procured with our landing-nets, and consisted of small mullet and other little fish, which had to be kept alive. The ladies were in excellent spirits, and even Mrs. Shepard, who had been an invalid for years, entered fully into the spirit of the occasion. When I first met this lady in Portland, she was hardly able to move without assistance; but latterly she seemed to need no aid from any one. She had taken part in all our frolics and excursions, and her appetite was equal to that of any person in the party. But no one could be sick in such a delicious climate as this was, for we spent all our time in the open air. Our fishing was to be done mainly by trolling, and as soon as we had our bait, Colonel Shepard had a mullet on one of his approved squids. We had a six-knot breeze, and I had to attend to the tiller. The bait was hardly in the water before the Colonel began to tug at his line. I saw a large fish break in the water, a hundred feet from the boat, and "cut up" in the most extraordinary manner. The New Yorker labored diligently for some time, and I luffed up the boat in order to lessen his labors; but before he got the fish near enough to enable us to see what he was, the patent gear snapped, and away went the fish. I had provided Mr. Tiffany with a line from Lake Superior, and he had a fish on before the Colonel had finished his labors with the first one. This line was strong enough to hold anything in the water, and the English gentleman, with my assistance, pulled in a redfish, or spotted bass, which weighed fourteen pounds. I rigged a line for Miss Margie, and she soon brought into the boat without help, which she would not allow any one to give, a sea-trout, similar to the squeteague or weakfish, but not the same thing. In the other boats they were having the same luck. Towards night we began to pull in red snappers from six to twelve pounds in weight. They were perfect beauties, vermilion on the back, the color gradually changing to pink on the belly. The Colonel was all worn out with his exertions, and he was glad to exchange his line for the tiller of the boat, and I took a hand in the exciting sport. But we were catching more than we could use, and we landed at a settlement called Eau Gallie just before dark, where we were glad to pass the night. We stayed two days longer in this delightful region. Every time we went out fishing we averaged a hundred weight of fish to each line. We sent five hundred weight across to the Wetumpka, on board of which we had tons of ice, to be packed for future use. The Colonel was sorry to leave such magnificent fishing, and Owen declared that he would spend all the winters of the rest of his life in the southern part of Florida. On Thursday morning we harnessed up our mule teams, and started across the land for the river. At the end of the week we were to finish our trip in Florida; but we were to give two or three days to hunting in the vicinity of the point where the steamer lay. On our way back through the forest we saw game in abundance. On our arrival the mules were picketed in the woods, for we did not like the music of their stamping on the planks of the forward deck. We reached the boat an hour before dinner-time, and Gopher had red snapper and spotted bass in a variety of styles for the meal. In the afternoon the gentlemen took to the woods with their sporting gear, but I remained to escort the ladies and protect them from rattlesnakes and moccasins, which they seemed to fear every time they set foot on shore. But we did not see a snake of any kind during the whole time we were on the waters of the upper St. Johns. At three o'clock I had the mules harnessed to one of the wagons, and drove the ladies several miles into the forest; they were delighted with the excursion. On my return, when the ladies had gone up into the saloon, I went aft on the main deck to take a look at the water. The steamer was moored with her head to the shore, so that her stern was out in the river. I was afraid, as we had had no rain for some days, not even a shower, that the river would fall so as to endanger our getting over the shoal, two miles below, where we had not had more than an inch to spare in coming up. I measured the depth where I had done it every day I had been on board since our arrival, and I found it was two inches lower. I was rather alarmed, for I did not like the idea of spending several weeks in this locality, excellent as the hunting was, for I knew that the party would soon tire of it. While I stood at the stern thinking of it, I heard a noise which I thought came from the inside of the paddle-box. I listened for some time but did not hear it again, and I concluded that a young alligator, or some other water animal, had crawled into the opening. I started to return to the stairs which led from the main deck forward to the space in front of the saloon. I was passing between two piles of lightwood on my way, when I heard the report of a pistol. A bullet whistled uncomfortably near my head. I don't claim to be bullet-proof, and I was startled by the sound, and by the whizzing of the ball so near my head. I made up my mind on the instant that the shot was intended for me, and that my life was in actual danger. Buck and Hop were attending to the mules on shore, and I saw no one on the lower deck. Moses Brickland and Ben Bowman were in their rooms, and I called them. I told them what had happened. They had heard the shot; but some one was shooting about all the time in the vicinity of the boat, and they paid no attention to such sounds. We searched every part of the lower deck, even opening the trap into the paddle-box, made to allow a workman to get in when repairs were necessary. We could find no person. "I believe this steamer is haunted, and I wouldn't sail in her another month if you would give her to me," said Ben, who was not a highly-educated person, though he knew a steam-engine as well as though he had been through college. "I have heard all sorts of noises by night and by day." "What sort of noises, Ben?" I asked with interest, not that I was impressed with the idea that the Wetumpka was haunted. "Well, footsteps where no person could be found," replied the engineer. "Now, you say you have been fired at, and no one on board could have done it." "I don't believe ghosts use fire-arms, Ben," I added, as I saw Cornwood come on the forward deck. He had been hunting with the sportsmen, to assist them with his knowledge of the game of the country. The moment he saw us he hastened aft, and asked me what the matter was. As we had not exhibited to him the evidences that anything was the matter, I was rather surprised at the question. "Nothing is the matter, except that a shot was fired at me a little while ago," I replied, as though it were a matter of not much consequence. "I think you are mistaken," he replied very promptly. "How could I be mistaken when the ball whistled by my head?" I demanded. "It might not have been within ten feet of your head, though it sounded as though it were within a few inches. I shot a wild turkey as I came up, and I fired in the direction of the steamer. It occurred to me that the ball might have gone through her, and I confess that I was very careless," replied Cornwood. "I think you were, extremely careless," I added coldly. "But I am sure the ball could not have gone within ten feet of you, or I should have seen you," protested the guide. "Where is the turkey you shot?" asked Ben, who appeared to have some doubts in regard to the truth of the story. "I threw him down on the forecastle as I came on board," answered Cornwood. We walked to that part of the steamer, and there lay the wild turkey, as handsome a bird as I had ever seen. This evidence satisfied me, for as the Floridian had never failed to do anything he promised, or disappointed the party in regard to fish and game, he was in high favor with all on board, at least with those in the cabin. "Colonel Shepard and Mr. Garningham have shot no end of deer and wild turkey, and they have stacked the game about two miles from the landing," continued the guide. "They have more than we could bring, and I volunteered to come up for a mule team." "Buck and Hop are taking care of the pair we used this afternoon; you can take the others," I replied. Cornwood went on shore, and in a short time I saw him drive down the shore into the woods. "Do you believe that story about the wild turkey?" asked Ben, when Cornwood had gone ashore. "I see no reason to disbelieve it," I replied, looking with interest at the engineer. "Do you? Well, I don't; and I didn't believe it when he told it," replied Ben, as he pointed with his jack-knife at a place in the wild turkey which he had partly dissected. "Do you see that?" "I do not see anything but blood and meat," I answered. "You don't! Well, there is the ball that whistled within ten feet of your head when you were walking on the main deck." Ben Bowman applied his knife-blade to the turkey, and pried out the bullet, which had lodged against the breastbone. I took it in my hand. If his story was true, this was not the ball that passed near my head. We made another search for the man who had fired at me, but we looked in vain. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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