Ingraham Expedition: March 22, Tuesday

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Ingraham Expedition: March 22, Tuesday

Original Source

Encoded texts are derived from three typescript accounts of the 1892 Everglades Exploration Expedition found in the James E. Ingraham Papers and the Chase Collection in the Special and Area Studies Collections Department of the University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries. Digital reproductions of the typescripts are available at:

Moses, W.R., Record of the Everglade Exploration Expedition

Ingraham, J.E., Diary

Church, A., A Dash Through the Everglades

Contents

Electronic Publication Details:

Text encoding by John R. Nemmers

Published by John R. Nemmers.

George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida, Gainesville, Florida

2015

Licensed for use under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

These manuscripts are available from this site for education purposes only.

Encoding Principles

The three accounts of the 1892 Ingraham Everglades Exploration Expedition have been transcribed and are represented in Text Encoding Initiative (TEI) P5 XML encoding.

Line and page breaks have not been preserved in the encoded manuscripts.

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CAMP NO. 6, Tuesday, March 22nd.

All hands up before day and the routine which will probably be followed, began the surveying party starting out at 6 A.M. immediately after a hasty breakfast, while the balance packed up the boats and got away at 7, following the stakes which were marked and driven every 1,000 feet.

Messrs. Ingraham, Chase and Moses left for the cypress timber on foot, in sight to the southward and for this day's march varied in distance from one to four miles from our course and nearly parallel to it. An hour or so after starting an Indian approached them on foot, accompanied by three dogs. He introduced himself as "Billy Fiewel" and in English said "Good Morning." He understood english sufficiently to make himself readily understood, was acquainted with the Hendry's of Fort Myers, Taylor Frierson and others of the same place. After some palaver, he agreed to go with us today for a consideration. Shortly after he said "wait; will get canoe". Leaving us and going to a fine cypress dugout canoe which he said was made by his son "Little Billy", whose age was 20. All got into the boat, seated themselves in the bottom and Billy stood upon the stern and poled and pushed, when the water was too shallow for polling, following the remainder of the crowd who by this time were a mile and a half ahead. Overtaking them we proceeded to a point about 4 miles from camp No. 6 and lunched, the Indian joining us on invitation and conducting himself very politely. About one mile beyond our lunch stop we stopped for the day at Camp No. 7, having made 5 miles in all today through some of the worst bog imaginable; all tired out but cheerful.

Arrangements were made with Billy Fiewel to return tomorrow night and proceed with us, not as a guide but to hunt and make himself useful and that we might derive such benefit as we could from his knowledge in contending with the difficulties of the way etc.

The island upon which we are located is perhaps 1/4 of an acre in extent upon which are grape vines, India rubber or wild fig, elder bushes, briers and a pumpkin vine. Indian signs were noticed.

The average depth of water today, 12 inches. The latter part of the day it deepened to 18 inches. In sounding with a pole we discovered rock frequently about one foot below the surface of the water.

Billy told us that no frost occurred in the Everglades and the character of the green growth corroborated his statement.

If this country could be drained a vast expanse of arable land could be opened to development. It seems rich and would be easily cultivated once the water were permanently removed.

We will call this camp Island No. 22 indicating the day of the month and enabling the location of any particular point when taken in connection with the engineer's report and plat.

From the top of a tree [an] Indian Camp can be seen about 5 miles to the south of us and supposed to be occupied.
March 22nd. Camp #8 [#6]. Broke camp at 6:30 A.M. Water about knee deep; mud from 6" to 1'. Mercury 67 at 6 P.M. on 21st, 60 at 6 A.M., on 22nd.

Waded 5 miles, 1715 feet to an island #22. At a mile from camp met Billy Fiewel, Indian, who helped me, Chase and Moses with his canoe till night. Heavy wading, boggy, - bottom stone; - water about hip high. Very rich soil under water. Men all wet. Mosquitos and red bugs b-a-d.
Next morning, Tuesday (22nd), we decided to change our course so as to avoid the saw grass, and this necessitated the abandonment of a portion of the line we had run the day before, which I did not like very much. Early that morning Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Sydney and Mr. Moses went off to the south to examine a large body of cypress timber, barely visible from where we then were. About noon they returned, bringing with them,- or rather I should say being brought by an Indian in his canoe. They said they had gone to the cypress swamp, and finding the ground very boggy had started to return when they suddenly came upon an Indian on foot who said his name was "Billy Fuel". They tried to hire him to go to Miami and act as our guide, but he refused; despairing of making any terms with him they started off again, when Mr. Ingraham, who had on boots, became bogged up and in his efforts to get out, exhausted. The Indian, seeing this, seemed to pity them, and said, "Wait, I get canoe": he then walked to a thick clump of bushes near by, pulled out a canoe, and taking two of our explorers in it with him came on to where we were. We ate [lunch] that day as we stood in the water, and crackers, potted ham and cold coffee never before tasted so good. The Indian stayed with us until we had camped and had supper; before he left we offered him every inducement to guide us to Miami, and when we offered him wyomie (whiskey) he seemed to yield to our wishes but said he had to go home first and see his squaw, but would meet us at our next night's camp, ready to go on with us to Miami,- but we never saw "Billy Fuel" any more. That day's march had completely wearied me out, we had advanced since morning only about five miles, but they were equivalent to about twenty on dry land. I was so tired I had lost interest in everything,- didn't care whether Billy Fuel stayed, went, or ever came back, so I could lie down and rest. I managed to help Mr. Sidney arrange our bed, flopped down on it and slept until supper was ready, and as soon as I had swallowed that dropped off to sleep again. What appetites we had, and how delicious everything tasted! To be sure our biscuit had a heart of dough and were very appropriately called "sinkers", and our coffee was a little muddy and our bacon salty and not always well done, but how refreshing this food was to us poor boys, wet, weary and muddy as we were.
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CAMP NO. 6, Tuesday, March 22nd.

All hands up before day and the routine which will probably be followed, began the surveying party starting out at 6 A.M. immediately after a hasty breakfast, while the balance packed up the boats and got away at 7, following the stakes which were marked and driven every 1,000 feet.

Messrs. Ingraham, Chase and Moses left for the cypress timber on foot, in sight to the southward and for this day's march varied in distance from one to four miles from our course and nearly parallel to it. An hour or so after starting an Indian approached them on foot, accompanied by three dogs. He introduced himself as "Billy Fiewel" and in English said "Good Morning." He understood english sufficiently to make himself readily understood, was acquainted with the Hendry's of Fort Myers, Taylor Frierson and others of the same place. After some palaver, he agreed to go with us today for a consideration. Shortly after he said "wait; will get canoe". Leaving us and going to a fine cypress dugout canoe which he said was made by his son "Little Billy", whose age was 20. All got into the boat, seated themselves in the bottom and Billy stood upon the stern and poled and pushed, when the water was too shallow for polling, following the remainder of the crowd who by this time were a mile and a half ahead. Overtaking them we proceeded to a point about 4 miles from camp No. 6 and lunched, the Indian joining us on invitation and conducting himself very politely. About one mile beyond our lunch stop we stopped for the day at Camp No. 7, having made 5 miles in all today through some of the worst bog imaginable; all tired out but cheerful.

Arrangements were made with Billy Fiewel to return tomorrow night and proceed with us, not as a guide but to hunt and make himself useful and that we might derive such benefit as we could from his knowledge in contending with the difficulties of the way etc.

The island upon which we are located is perhaps 1/4 of an acre in extent upon which are grape vines, India rubber or wild fig, elder bushes, briers and a pumpkin vine. Indian signs were noticed.

The average depth of water today, 12 inches. The latter part of the day it deepened to 18 inches. In sounding with a pole we discovered rock frequently about one foot below the surface of the water.

Billy told us that no frost occurred in the Everglades and the character of the green growth corroborated his statement.

If this country could be drained a vast expanse of arable land could be opened to development. It seems rich and would be easily cultivated once the water were permanently removed.

We will call this camp Island No. 22 indicating the day of the month and enabling the location of any particular point when taken in connection with the engineer's report and plat.

From the top of a tree [an] Indian Camp can be seen about 5 miles to the south of us and supposed to be occupied.
March 22nd. Camp #8 [#6]. Broke camp at 6:30 A.M. Water about knee deep; mud from 6" to 1'. Mercury 67 at 6 P.M. on 21st, 60 at 6 A.M., on 22nd.

Waded 5 miles, 1715 feet to an island #22. At a mile from camp met Billy Fiewel, Indian, who helped me, Chase and Moses with his canoe till night. Heavy wading, boggy, - bottom stone; - water about hip high. Very rich soil under water. Men all wet. Mosquitos and red bugs b-a-d.
Next morning, Tuesday (22nd), we decided to change our course so as to avoid the saw grass, and this necessitated the abandonment of a portion of the line we had run the day before, which I did not like very much. Early that morning Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Sydney and Mr. Moses went off to the south to examine a large body of cypress timber, barely visible from where we then were. About noon they returned, bringing with them,- or rather I should say being brought by an Indian in his canoe. They said they had gone to the cypress swamp, and finding the ground very boggy had started to return when they suddenly came upon an Indian on foot who said his name was "Billy Fuel". They tried to hire him to go to Miami and act as our guide, but he refused; despairing of making any terms with him they started off again, when Mr. Ingraham, who had on boots, became bogged up and in his efforts to get out, exhausted. The Indian, seeing this, seemed to pity them, and said, "Wait, I get canoe": he then walked to a thick clump of bushes near by, pulled out a canoe, and taking two of our explorers in it with him came on to where we were. We ate [lunch] that day as we stood in the water, and crackers, potted ham and cold coffee never before tasted so good. The Indian stayed with us until we had camped and had supper; before he left we offered him every inducement to guide us to Miami, and when we offered him wyomie (whiskey) he seemed to yield to our wishes but said he had to go home first and see his squaw, but would meet us at our next night's camp, ready to go on with us to Miami,- but we never saw "Billy Fuel" any more. That day's march had completely wearied me out, we had advanced since morning only about five miles, but they were equivalent to about twenty on dry land. I was so tired I had lost interest in everything,- didn't care whether Billy Fuel stayed, went, or ever came back, so I could lie down and rest. I managed to help Mr. Sidney arrange our bed, flopped down on it and slept until supper was ready, and as soon as I had swallowed that dropped off to sleep again. What appetites we had, and how delicious everything tasted! To be sure our biscuit had a heart of dough and were very appropriately called "sinkers", and our coffee was a little muddy and our bacon salty and not always well done, but how refreshing this food was to us poor boys, wet, weary and muddy as we were.
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CAMP NO. 6, Tuesday, March 22nd.

All hands up before day and the routine which will probably be followed, began the surveying party starting out at 6 A.M. immediately after a hasty breakfast, while the balance packed up the boats and got away at 7, following the stakes which were marked and driven every 1,000 feet.

Messrs. Ingraham, Chase and Moses left for the cypress timber on foot, in sight to the southward and for this day's march varied in distance from one to four miles from our course and nearly parallel to it. An hour or so after starting an Indian approached them on foot, accompanied by three dogs. He introduced himself as "Billy Fiewel" and in English said "Good Morning." He understood english sufficiently to make himself readily understood, was acquainted with the Hendry's of Fort Myers, Taylor Frierson and others of the same place. After some palaver, he agreed to go with us today for a consideration. Shortly after he said "wait; will get canoe". Leaving us and going to a fine cypress dugout canoe which he said was made by his son "Little Billy", whose age was 20. All got into the boat, seated themselves in the bottom and Billy stood upon the stern and poled and pushed, when the water was too shallow for polling, following the remainder of the crowd who by this time were a mile and a half ahead. Overtaking them we proceeded to a point about 4 miles from camp No. 6 and lunched, the Indian joining us on invitation and conducting himself very politely. About one mile beyond our lunch stop we stopped for the day at Camp No. 7, having made 5 miles in all today through some of the worst bog imaginable; all tired out but cheerful.

Arrangements were made with Billy Fiewel to return tomorrow night and proceed with us, not as a guide but to hunt and make himself useful and that we might derive such benefit as we could from his knowledge in contending with the difficulties of the way etc.

The island upon which we are located is perhaps 1/4 of an acre in extent upon which are grape vines, India rubber or wild fig, elder bushes, briers and a pumpkin vine. Indian signs were noticed.

The average depth of water today, 12 inches. The latter part of the day it deepened to 18 inches. In sounding with a pole we discovered rock frequently about one foot below the surface of the water.

Billy told us that no frost occurred in the Everglades and the character of the green growth corroborated his statement.

If this country could be drained a vast expanse of arable land could be opened to development. It seems rich and would be easily cultivated once the water were permanently removed.

We will call this camp Island No. 22 indicating the day of the month and enabling the location of any particular point when taken in connection with the engineer's report and plat.

From the top of a tree [an] Indian Camp can be seen about 5 miles to the south of us and supposed to be occupied.
March 22nd. Camp #8 [#6]. Broke camp at 6:30 A.M. Water about knee deep; mud from 6" to 1'. Mercury 67 at 6 P.M. on 21st, 60 at 6 A.M., on 22nd.

Waded 5 miles, 1715 feet to an island #22. At a mile from camp met Billy Fiewel, Indian, who helped me, Chase and Moses with his canoe till night. Heavy wading, boggy, - bottom stone; - water about hip high. Very rich soil under water. Men all wet. Mosquitos and red bugs b-a-d.
Next morning, Tuesday (22nd), we decided to change our course so as to avoid the saw grass, and this necessitated the abandonment of a portion of the line we had run the day before, which I did not like very much. Early that morning Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Sydney and Mr. Moses went off to the south to examine a large body of cypress timber, barely visible from where we then were. About noon they returned, bringing with them,- or rather I should say being brought by an Indian in his canoe. They said they had gone to the cypress swamp, and finding the ground very boggy had started to return when they suddenly came upon an Indian on foot who said his name was "Billy Fuel". They tried to hire him to go to Miami and act as our guide, but he refused; despairing of making any terms with him they started off again, when Mr. Ingraham, who had on boots, became bogged up and in his efforts to get out, exhausted. The Indian, seeing this, seemed to pity them, and said, "Wait, I get canoe": he then walked to a thick clump of bushes near by, pulled out a canoe, and taking two of our explorers in it with him came on to where we were. We ate [lunch] that day as we stood in the water, and crackers, potted ham and cold coffee never before tasted so good. The Indian stayed with us until we had camped and had supper; before he left we offered him every inducement to guide us to Miami, and when we offered him wyomie (whiskey) he seemed to yield to our wishes but said he had to go home first and see his squaw, but would meet us at our next night's camp, ready to go on with us to Miami,- but we never saw "Billy Fuel" any more. That day's march had completely wearied me out, we had advanced since morning only about five miles, but they were equivalent to about twenty on dry land. I was so tired I had lost interest in everything,- didn't care whether Billy Fuel stayed, went, or ever came back, so I could lie down and rest. I managed to help Mr. Sidney arrange our bed, flopped down on it and slept until supper was ready, and as soon as I had swallowed that dropped off to sleep again. What appetites we had, and how delicious everything tasted! To be sure our biscuit had a heart of dough and were very appropriately called "sinkers", and our coffee was a little muddy and our bacon salty and not always well done, but how refreshing this food was to us poor boys, wet, weary and muddy as we were.