T H E LIVE-OAKERS.
T H E greater part of the forests of East Florida principally consists of
what in that country are called " Pine Barrens.'" In these districts, the
woods are rather thin, and the only trees that are seen in them are tall
pines of rather indifferent quality, beneath which is a growth of rank
grass, here and there mixed with low bushes and sword palmettoes. The
soil is of a sandy nature, mostly flat, and consequently either covered with
water during the rainy season, or parched in the summer and autumn, although
you meet at times with ponds of stagnant water, where the cattle,
which are abundant, allay their thirst, and around which resort the various
kinds of game found in these wilds.
The traveller, who has pursued his course for many miles over the
barrens, is suddenly delighted to see in the distance the appearance of a
dark " hummock"" of live oaks and other trees, seeming as if they had been
planted in the wilderness. As he approaches, the air feels cooler and
more salubrious, the song of numerous birds delights his ear, the herbage
assumes a more luxuriant appearance, the flowers become larger and
brighter, and a grateful fragrance is diffused around. These objects contribute
to refresh his mind, as much as the sight of the waters of some
clear spring, gliding among the undergrowth, seems already to allay his
thirst. Over head festoons of innumerable vines, jessamines, and bignonias,
link each tree with those around it, their slender stems being interlaced
as if in mutual affection. No sooner, in the shade of these beautiful
woods, has the traveller finished his mid-day repast, than he perceives
small parties of men lightly accoutred, and each bearing an axe, approaching
towards his resting place. They exchange the usual civilities, and
immediately commence their labours, for they too have just finished their
meal.
I think I see them proceeding to their work. Here two have stationed
themselves on the opposite sides of the trunk of a noble and venerable
live-oak. Their keen-edged and well-tempered axes seem to make no impression
on it, so small are the chips that drop at each blow around the
mossy and wide-spreading roots. There, one is ascending the stem of
another, of which, in its fall, the arms have stuck among the tangled tops
of the neighbouring trees. See how cautiously he proceeds, barefooted,
and with a handkerchief round his head. Now he has climbed to the
height of about forty feet from the ground ; he stops, and squaring himself
with the trunk on which he so boldly stands, he wields with sinewy
arms his trusty blade, the repeated blows of which, although the tree be
as tough as it is large, will soon sever it in two. He has' changed sides,
and his back is turned to you. The trunk now remains connected by
only a thin stripe of wood. He places his feet on the part which is lodged,
and shakes it with all his might. Now swings the huge log under
his leaps, now it suddenly gives way, and as it strikes upon the ground
its echoes are repeated through the hummock, and every wild turkey
within hearing utters his gobble of recognition. The wood-cutter, however,
remains collected and composed; but the next moment, he throws
his axe to the ground, and, assisted by the nearest grape-vine, slides down
and reaches the earth in an instant.
Several men approach and examine the prostrate trunk. They cut
at both its extremities, and sound the whole of its bark, to enable them
to judge if the tree has been attacked by the white rot. If such has unfortunately
been the case, there, for a century or more, this huge log will
remain until it gradually crumbles ; but if not, and if it is free of injury
or " wind-shakes,11 while there is no appearance of the sap having already
ascended, and its pores are altogether sound, they proceed to take its
measurement. Its shape ascertained, and the timber that is fit for use
laid out by the aid of models, which, like fragments of the skeleton of a
ship, shew the forms and sizes required, the " hewers11 commence their
labours. Thus, reader, perhaps every known hummock in the Floridas is
annually attacked, and so often does it happen that the white-rot or some
other disease has deteriorated the quality of the timber, that the woods
may be seen strewn with trunks that have been found worthless, so that
every year these valuable oaks are becoming scarcer. The destruction of
the young trees of this species caused by the fall of the great trunks is of
course immense, and as there are no artificial plantations of these trees in
our country, before long a good sized live-oak will be so valuable that its
owner will exact an enormous price for it, even while it yet stands in the
wood. In my opinion, formed on personal observation, Live-oak Hummocks
are not quite so plentiful as they are represented to be, and of this
I will give you one illustration.