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Updated: September 19, 2025
The solemn pulse of the great sea in Saut de Juan; the voices of many waters in the Gouliot Pass; the great dusky cushions of gorse studded with blooms that looked white under the moon; the mingling in the soft salt air of the scent of hedge-roses and honeysuckle, of dewy, trodden grass and the sweet breath of cows ay, even the smell of the pigsties was good that night, and mightily refreshing after the dark Everglades of Florida.
Dense everglades, swamp-fevers, malaria in the air, poisonous underbrush, and venomous reptiles and insects, and now and then a wily unseen foe picking off the men, one by one, as they painfully cut out roads through the thickets, these were the features of military life in Florida at that period.
The troops detailed for the service were the Fifth Infantry, then busy fighting Billy Bowlegs among the everglades of Florida, the Tenth Infantry, which was stationed at the forts in Upper Minnesota, the Second Dragoons, which was among the forces assembled at Fort Leavenworth, to be used, if necessary, in Kansas, at the requisition of Governor Walker, and Phelps's light-artillery battery, the same which so distinguished itself at Buena Vista, under the command of Captain Washington.
"Wal, I'll be hornswoggled, Billy Barnes!" was the exclamation of the stranger. "Ben Stubbs!" exclaimed the amazed Billy, almost knocked off his feet at the sudden encounter with the brave adventurer who had shared the boys' perils in Nicaragua, the Everglades and in Africa. "What are you doing here?"
At length, however, he had followed them on their trip south, in imagination; had seen the panting tarpon on the deck of the Arrow; had taken the winding waterways into the Everglades; had encountered the revenue cutter and the filibuster; had watched through a night of adventure with the scouts on picket duty; and had finally swung safely through the dashing waves to the Life Saving Station.
Well, maybe you're right. But I've met a lot of children this past year across this country, as all of you have. Everywhere from the Far East to Eastern Europe. All kids are unique. Yet, all kids are alike. The budding young environmentalist I met this month, who joined me in exploring the Florida Everglades.
At the outer point was a deserted lighthouse, which we agreed would serve as a guide to us should we have any difficulty in finding our way back. We lost no time in going on shore, accompanied by Tim and Bill Dixie, boatswain of the Great Alexander, and forthwith made our way west towards the nearest point on the Everglades. We had not gone far before we fell in with a deer, which I shot.
At first they claimed that we had acted treacherously, but very soon they admitted that for a month Coacoochee had been quietly removing his women and children toward Lake Okeechobee and the Everglades; and that this visit to our post was to have been their last. It so happened that almost at the instant of our seizing these Indians a vessel arrived off the bar with reenforcements from St.
This is only a bare idea." "Well," said Cora starting off through the wood, "I must look for a cabin, or something like it. I have particular business with Jim Peters." "But you will only hurt your feet miss," objected the man. "Allow me to show you the island," and he bowed again. "Such wild swamp flowers I have never seen. It is the everglades, and well worth the short journey."
The tale of their sylvan exploits in the everglades of Florida has a charm that borders on the fay. We who shoot the bow today are children of their fantasy, offspring of their magic. As the parents of American archery, we offer them homage and honor. Ernest Thompson Seton is another patron of archery to whom all who have read Two Little Savages must be eternally grateful.
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