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THE SOUTHERN WORLD, SEPTEMBER 15, 1882. Written specially lor the Southern World. HOKE LIFE IN FLORIDA. BY UBLIN HABCOUBT. Third Paper. > What Will It CoiitT’ I In previous papers we have discussed the important question, “Where Shall I Settle ?” Let us now look into the second, no less mo mentous one—“What will it Cost?” Now, this is a good deal like the far-famed query, “How big is a piece of Chalk ?” There is no place in the civilized world, where men do congregate, where also money to any extent may not be got rid of by those so inclined, and Florida being in the above category, and not so near “the jumping-off place" either, as she was only a few years ago, is no exception to this rule. Money can be buried here as well as elsewhere, and the question of “What will it Cost to Settle?" may meet with widely different replies from as many standpoints. We, however, are not writing for the ben efit of those who have already an abundance of this world’s goods; such need no advice from us, they can come and go and settle, as and where they list. Our items are meant for those who come to Florida seeking to improve their fortunes; who have but little to start with in their new life, except a wealth of hope, energy and perseverance, and this {S'the best kind of wealth to pos sess, the world over. To such willing, ear nest workersas these, the question of “What will it Cost?” comes home, often with dire ful significance. So then, what we want to know just now, is not the maximum, (that is an uncertain quantity hard to determine,) but the min imum cost of settling down in a new home ifi this genial clime. Of course, even here, there is an extreme; some men, strong and sinewy, go out into the wild woods, hew down the tall pines, build a little log hut to shelter their families, and then go out to work by the month or the day, for wealthier or more enterprising neighbors, and thus keep on from year to year, without energy or ambition to work hard enough to improve their condition or ensure the future comfort of their families; but such so-called “men" as these are few, thank heaven. And again, there are some who began their Florida lives just as cheaply and roughly as these, and yet kept pushing upward, until now they are among the richest and most influential men in the State. The majority who are coming to Florida these days, however, are men who have a few hundred dollars in their pockets and want to know how to make the best use of them, for their present and future ben efit. The question of location settled in its broader sense, next comes that of the par ticular piece of land, both as to kind, qual ity and locality. To those seeking perma nent homes in Florida, this is a subject so fraught with weal or woe, health or sickness, success or failure, that it cannot receive too great care and study. And in this connec tion we cannot too earnestly deplore the petty jealousies that are so frequently wit nessed by would-be settlers, lending to tbe pitting of one section against uuother, and the decrying of one neighbor—especially of that neighbor’s land—by another, to the harm and degradation of all. The St. John’s river man meeting a stran ger bound for the Ocklawaba and lake re gions, will do his best to convinco him that the only good, healthy land to be had, is that in which he is personally interested; the Indian river man will tell the stranger that his locality is the only right and proper one to settle in ; the Lake region man decries the 8t. John’s river lands; the man with pine land to sell, vituperates the hammocks; the hammock owner runs down the pine land, and each neighbor puts forward his new “bit of land’’ as "a right smart chance better" for the purpose desired, than any other tract hereabouts; and so this narrow, false-hearted, mistaken policy runs along the line, with of course, here and there, “the exception that proves the rule." An amusing, and instructive case in point, was brought to our notice only a few days ago. ▲ stranger, a man of wealth, energy and intelligence—such an one as Florida most needs to develop her immense latent powers, agreed to purchase a certain piece of land, if, on seeing it, he found it as repre sented. Well, he saw the land, and was thoroughly satisfied; shortly thereafter, he was accosted by a man living close by: “Hot stranger, I reckon you’re the man as ’lows to buy Chris Brown’s land, eh V “Yea, it’s a fine place, isn’t it?" Neighbor A, as we will call him, took off hiscap, rubbed his head thoughtfully, looked up at the sky, then down at the stranger: “I don’t like to go agin a neighbor, ye know,” he said slowly, with a significant wink. “Why, what is the matter? Isn’t itgopd land?" “Well, that’s as you takes it; ’taint no good for cotton nor cane." “I want it for oranges, lemons." “Then hits as you find hit; ’Saint never been tried. I knowd a man as ’dared be could play a flute, didn’t know he couldn't till he'd tried, you see, and then he just squeaked awful, wasn't no good.” “But why do you think it is not fit for oranges?” “Didn’t say twarent stranger! I aint 'goin to be onnelghborly like, only I 'lows as wild oranges aint found only in low hammocks, as that ud be the fittenest place for the sweet uns!” There did seem to be some sense in this ar gument, so, as our stranger’s contemplated purchase was not concluded, he went with neighbor A, who “din't want to be onneigh- borly though," to view a “passcl of hammock of his own." The stranger approved of the tract, and had almost decided in its favor, when neigh bor B met him. “Stranger,” quoth he, “I hear you’re bound to take A’s bit of sour swash.” "Sour swash?" “Jes so! I don't want to make no trouble fer a neighbor, but it's easy to see that bit of land’s sour swash, as ud pisen a ’gator i Its hammock, sure enough, but it ud take a for tun’ to dreen it fer any use. Now, there’s a bit of pine land, high and dry, that's just the thing you want, easy to clear and no dreenin.” Had he, B, any of this vaunted high pine for sale ? “Well, yes, he had; and if the stranger wanted, he didn’t like to be onneighborly— but if he must, why he must." So the peqdexed stranger looked at this pine land, and really liked it better than any lie had seen yet; he was glad he had looked further. This land was ail right, that was certain. Then along came neighbor C, a better edu cated man than the others, capable of form ing an opinion and giving a reason for it. Don’t take that pine land,” he ad vised. "There is hard-pan and clay under it; hard-pan kills the trees, and clay is cold ; the worst of it is, you never c in tell until your grove is old enough to bear, then the roots reacli the hard-pan or clay and the trees just die, no help for them, and there you are money and years all gone for nothing 1" Neighbor C (of course) had just the right kind of land to sell, but neighbor D quietly cautioned the stranger against it, as “scrub hammock, and no account nohow. He had some himself, though, first-class." But the stranger shook his head sadly, and turned his back forever on that community, saying: "No, I will have none of your lands; any one of those tracts would suit me; I see thrifty, healthy trees on them all, but each one of you runs down his neighbor’s hon esty, and decries his neighbor's goods, would not live and trade and visit among such men, if a grove was given me free.’’ Now, good reader, perhaps you think this is an imaginary experience—unhappily, we cannot plead guilty, it was an an actual fact, and its counterpart may be met with any day. “A word to the wise is sufficient,” prenex garde. The question’ is often asked, “What does good orange land cost?" Well, as our friend, neighbor A, just re ferred to, remarks: “That’s as you takes hit,” whether your choice is pine land or hammock; remote from or near to, good transportation facilities. Ourown experience and judgment and that of the majority of Floridians, is decidedly in favor of pine Jand, as a general rule, for a permanent; healthy home, where one can be happy and contented. An important consideration to most set tlers, and one that would be paramount, were all other things equal, is the fact that it costs much less than hammock, not only in the actual purchase money, or “first cost, 1 but in the after preparations for the recep tion of the coveted orange grove—the Alpha and Omega of the Floridian’s aspirations. Hammock land is almost invariably, found stretching back from the shores of the large rivers and lakes, joining a belt of rich land, varying in depth from a halt mile, or less, to three or four miles. And here, and only here, are fonnd the wild sour orange trees, either scattered thinly about amidst the gi ant oak, hickory, bay, magnolia, and pal metto trees, or else growing so closely to gether as to form those famous wild groves of which everyone has beard and read so much, in these latter years of the newly awakened interest in orange culture. Happier than they knew, were those for tunate first-comers, whose early appearance on the field, enabled them to homestead the land on wtiicb these latent gold mines were wasting their sweetness on the desert air.” To them it was given to secure, for the nom inal sum of $14.00, one hundred and sixty acres ot rich lands, frequently with hun dreds or thousands of noble orange trees flourishing in their midst, and all they had to do was to clear away the underbrush, bud the wild stock with the sweet orange and lo! in three or four years they were independent men—and in nine years, rich men, with the smooth stream of their wealth constantly widening and deepening as time rolled quietly onwaid. Those "good old times” are gone by ; the area of wild groves was always limited—ex tremely limited, and now, they are things of the past; tamed, domesticated, brought into subjection under the conquering march oi civilization. A few, a very few, are leftstill, but they are scattering, and would not have existed so long, but that they lie so far away from transportation centers, as to be useless for years to come. Hammock lands, after passing from the State and General Govern ments into private hands, have always been held at much higher prices than the pine barrens, and this not entirely because the former are the richer lands, but because also of a natnral law which operates in tbe com mercial world, wherever man bays and sells. When the demand for an article is in ex cess of the supply, the owners of that article reap the inevitable results of higher prices. Obviously, the supply of hammock land, es pecially of that accessible to transportation lines, is extremely limited, and even if the demand were much lets than it actually is, the supply would still run short; therefore, hammock lands are always held at rates from five to ten timeshigher than pine lands, which exceed them in area in yet larger pro- portions. The relative merits of these two classes of Florida lands is a question much agitated at present, with the great preponderance of opinion in favor of the pine lands. And right here we remember that before we our selves came to Florida, now over four years ago, we often read of this same “ hammock lund” and wondered what it wus exactly, (of course we knew, vaguely,) and very likely there are those among our readers at this present moment, who are wondering much the same; so, let us pause a moment, and settle this question. “Hammocks” then, (you rarely find them “hummucks”) are tracts of land which, ly ing rather lower than thesurroundingcoun- try, or else along the banks of the larger lakes and rivers, are constantly moist, and have, therefore, escaped the annual visit* tion of the destructive fires which every spring sweep from one end to the other of Florida’s piney woods. We shall have more to say upon this subject by and by. Thus year after year the falling leaves of the hickory, oak and other deciduous trees, which grow so luxuriantly in these damp places, remain to decay upon the ground thus steadily enriching It, and forming rich humus, in which a luxuriant under growth springs up, adding more and more to the fertility of the soil by its falling leaves and branches; such an undergrowth as has no opportunity to establish itself in the piney woods on account of these same annual fires we have mentioned. This, we are convinced, is the true or’gin of the Florida hammocks, where the wild orange groves are invariably found, and where the rankest tropical luxuriance of vegetable life is the most striking character istic; through one of these true Florida hammocks it is impossible to make one' way without the constant use of axe and hatchet. The writer has seen the giant trees, and wonderous wealth of vegetation of tbe tropi cal regions, those of South America, yet even there, the rich, dense undergrowth of our genuine Florida hammocks is not excelled. Let it not be supposed that all of Florida' rich lands are “ hammock ’’ lands, nor that all hammock lands are alike. This is the most diversified State in the Union, not only as regards climate, but soil, and the unique distribution of the different kinds of tbe latter. Most people regard Florida's hammocks as her richest and beet land, this Is not the case however. The richest of the rich lands are those technically called “swamp-lands they are of alluvial formation, and are con atantly being added to in extent, year by year. These tracts, varying from twenty two hundred acres, sometimes more, were originally depressed basins, which have become gradually filled in by tbe washings from the higher surrounding lands; for cen turies the broken branches, rotting wood, leaves, grass, and debris of all kinds, have been steadily accumulating in these basins, which we may well term dame nature’s com post heaps,—heating, fermenting, decaying, and becoming vast store-houses of the richest \>lant-food. So that these swamp-lands are really the most valuable in the State, not only because they are richer than the ham mocks at the outset, but because their fertil ity is much more lasting. But, and "there’s the rub,"—these swamp lands are like gold mines,—you know the richness is there, but you must have money in your pocket to get at it. You invest ten dollars and reap fifty or one hundred in re turn, but you must first have the ten dollars to use as a lever; if you have it, you are all right; but most people who immigrate to Florida have it not, and it is for this reason, because these rich swamp lands must be carefully ditched and drained before they can be made available—that to-day there still remain for sale, over one million acres, which may be had for from $2 downwards per acre. We have said nothing about the health iness of living on these same lands,—do we need? 8wamp lands all over the world are the fever-breeders, and those who culti vate these lands should know enough to locate their homes several miles from them on higher ground. And now let us see about tbe hammocks, as we have said, “there are hammocks, and hammocks." Low hammocks may be said to be a cross between the high hummock and the swamp lands, and in truth, this fact is recognized n the odd kind of local name often used to designate them, which is, “swammocks;” they are not less fertile than the swamp lands, but their good qualities are not so durable; the soil is deep and tenacious, and the surface usually lev* l, so that ditching is really alwaysa necessity. Low hammock lauds are not so plenty as the swamp-lands, and it was on theso tracts that the great bulk of the sugar planta tions of the old regime were located. It is the high hanmiock, however, that is usually meant, when a “Florida hammock" is referred to in a general way ; these are on high ground, are often decidedly undulating, almost hilly, in fact; their soil is a fine veg etable mold, with a sandy loam, und under neath, from two to five feet, is found a sub - stratum of marl, limestone, or clay—we saw piece of this substratum the other day—a hard, rock-like substance, underlying one of the finest (one time wild) groves of Lake Hurris, and hud we not known otherwise, we , should surely have declared it to be a frag ment of the famous coquina wall of St. Au gustine. These soils seldom suffer from too much water, but they are frequently affected and their treesdroop undern drought that passes harmlessly over their piney-woods neighbors. “ Hammocks” are very rich and fertile, no doubt, their large trees, dense undergrowth, the luxuriant growth of orange trees, and splendid yield of sugar, without the use of manures, proves this fact. But still it is not well, as a general thing, to fix one's residence ; tbe very causes that produce rich vegetation, produces also fevers and agues, and a general feeling of weary debility, that is really harder to bear than an actual, active spell of illness, which can be met and conquered and driven away. Here and there we find tracts of high ham mock on the borders of our great lakes where the shores are bold and sandy, and the minature waves come rolling upon a clear white beach, Irom which the,haramock land rises high and dry, with a mixture of sand in its loamy soil; no rotting, malaria breed ing vegetation here—no marsb, no low, wet spots. Now, no one need to be afraid to reside on such a spot at this, if he will just clear ten or twenty acres of the dense growth from around bis dwelling, and give free admission to those revivifying influences, sunshine and pure air. We know of many such homes along the shores of Lakes Harris, Griffin, Kingsley, Santa Fe, and other of our large lakes, and they are healthy as our pine-land homes and very beautiful, with an outlook for miles over the clear sparkling waters of these lakes, with their emerald green bord ers, rising abruptly from the shores. Only a few days since we stood on the portico of one of these famed dwellings, and gazed ont over Lake Harris as on a beauteous picture of peaceful fairy land. But not to every one, no, not to one in five hundred, is such a favored location possible,