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To a Sick Child.
Sick and suffering, dost thou languish ?
Earthly pleasure must thou shun ?
Think, when on thy bed of anguish
Jesus suffered —little one.
Sad and sorrowing, hast thou only
Shed sad tears, while others smiled ?
When thy days are long and lonely
Remember, Jesus wept—my child.
Jesus will be thy defender
From all evil; meek and mild
Is thy Saviour, kind and tender, —
Come to Him, thou little child.
Clarlceaville, Ga. M.
MAROONER’S ISLAND ;
OR,
Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children.
BY REY. F. R. GOULDING,
Author of “ The Young Marooners.”
CHAPTER IY.
THE CRUISE BEGUN.
gURING the conference
recorded in the preceding
chapter the cutter had
remained with backed
topsails, or else had sailed
easy curves around the
>t where she was first
It was near mid-day be
irge pushed off and spread
her sails to the now freshening breeze.
She had scarcely got into motion before
the boatswain of the cutter was heard
piping all hands to starboard, where fifty
caps soon waved over the gunwale and
fifty voices cheered the departing voy
agers, while a flag was run up the mast
in token of honor and good will. Dr.
Gordon bowed his acknowledgments with
uncovered head, while his men waved
their caps, and Wheeler, who was sailing
master, ran up to the masthead, in reply,
the only piece of bunting at his com
mand.
This day was Wednesday, and although
the hour was far too early for regular
dinner, the captain of the cutter, with
great hospitality, had ordered, through
the steward, a plentiful lunch for all his
visitors, both in the cabin and at the ves
sels side, so that the departing crews
were saved from all delay and inconven
ience on account of rations before night.
For several hours the cutter and the
barge continued in sight of each other—
the one making due east for the bay, at
the north end of which lies Fort Brooke,
and the other seeking a passage around
the north end of Riley’s Island, in order
to pass between it and the main, and thus
to keep down the coast in the smooth
water that prevails inside the long chain
of reefs, shoals, keys and islands that
skirt the western coast of peninsular
Florida.
BUEKE’S WEEKLY.
In passing the sheet of water known
as Manatee Bay, the exploring party de
layed only long enough to look in and
certify themselves that the missing boat
was not there. They then continued so
evenly between the shore and the reef as
to keep a safe lookout on both sides. All
that afternoon the land showed little
more than a low, sandy bluff, surmounted
every now and then with a heavy breast
work of sand blown up by the wind and
ornamented at intervals with clumps of
tropical - looking palmettoes, o r with
groves of wide-spreading live oaks, while
patches of large-leaved cactus, high as a
man’s waist, and crimsoned with beauti
ful pears, the size of a pullet’s egg, occa
sionally variegated the spaces between.
Perhaps no opportunity more conven
ient than the present, can be found for
gratifying the desire of those who may
wish to know more of the peculiarities of
the western coast of Florida, to which
our story confines us, and of which we
seldom see any accounts.
The Bay, known as Tampa, extends
from Egmont Key to the town of Tampa,
about forty miles distant, and varies in
width from eight to twelve miles. Ex
tending east for fifteen or twenty miles,
it bends suddenly northward and divides
into two tongues, the western of which,
a shallow lagoon, is called Old Tampa,
and the eastern, Hillsborough. The part
which is common to both these tongues
is called Spiritu Santo, or Holy Ghost
bay, being the name given to it by De
Soto when he landed here on his famous
expedition in 1538.
Os all the beautiful inlets and harbors
on the gulf coast, this is the easiest of ac
cess, and the best protected from storms.
Its mouth is land-locked by the small
low island, or key, called Egmont, on
which is a light-house, and between
which and Mullet Key, (another low
island to the west,) is a pass or channel
having a depth of twenty-three feet at
low water, while to the southeast is an
other pass not quite so wide or so deep.
From Tampa, as far south as Punta
Rassa, at the mouth of the Caloosahatchie
river, the coast is double, having a chain
of keys and shoals extending, with scarce
ly an interruption, the whole distance.
These keys are composed of sand and
broken shells, some almost wholly of one,
some of the other, and some of a mixture
of both, and are covered with mangroves
cabbage palmettoes, live oaks, and vari
ous other trees and shrubs; and are in
habited by wild turkeys, deer, raccoons,
bears, and other denizens of the forest,
and, in some instances, by wild hogs and
cattle that have strayed there from the
main.
The palmetto is a tall, beautiful tree of
the class known by botanists as endogtns ,
because its growth is by additions inside
the trunk, and not, as in ordinary trees,
by successive layers of wood on the out
side. It has neither limbs nor bark, but
grows by means of a single terminal bud
at the top, which is always tender and
edible, and being in flavor not unlike cab
bage, has caused the tree to be called by
some the cabbage tree, or cabbage pal
metto. The fruit is a small berry grow
ing in clusters. The leaves, of which
there are sometimes as many as fifty, are
all at the summit and constitute each an
immense fan, from three to six feet in
diameter, expanding from a flat stem a
yard long and two or three inches wide.
The trees grow singly or in immense
groves, according to circumstances. The
wood is worthless as timber, being nothing
more than a dense pith, hardened on the
outside by exposure to the weather, and
strengthened within with long, tough
threads, which run longitudinally with
the trunk, and often project, like sharp
needles, through the surface.
The mangrove is a growth of the salt
marsh and quicksands, requiring frequent
overflow from the tides. It is a shrub,
with a woody stem that is close-grained,
hard and knotty, and when dry makes a
quick, hot fire. The leaf resembles some
what that of the lemon in shape and size,
being thick and of a dark green color, so
that a mangrove marsh at a little dis
tance is a lovely sight. Its growth is
peculiar: it has quite as many roots
branching from the trunk towards the
ground below as it has limbs branching
towards the air and sun above. These
limbs begin near the ground and extend
laterally a great distance, sending out
roots, like the banyan tree, to form new
trunks, and to support the weight of the
foliage above. These branches and roots
interlace so densely that a mangrove
swamp is almost impenetrable.
When the declining sun approached
the tree tops of a pretty key to the west,
the bow of the barge was turned towards
a creek or cove that set deeply inland,
bounded by a luxuriant mangrove marsh
upon one side, and by a sandy bluff dense
ly wooded with cedars and stunted pines
upon the other. Here they prepared to
spend their first night. Two tents were
pitched—one for Dr. Gordon, Tomkins
and Wildcat, the other for Wheeler and
the four men. A few armfulls of dead
wood soon produced a crackling fire, and
caused the merry kettles to sing the wel-