Ocklawaha at times, to take us anywhere that a
steamer could go. She was small, but large enough for our party.
I dined with the family and their guests, and went on board in the
afternoon. The steward was entirely satisfied with the manner in which
Cobbington had discharged his duties, and the invalid was the happiest
man I had seen in the Land of Flowers.
CHAPTER XX.
DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF DEPARTURE.
Except in Jacksonville, there was no market on the St. Johns River; and
Mr. Peeks had been not a little disturbed in relation to the culinary
department of the Sylvania. He could not go on shore at the villages on
the river, and buy what he wanted; but with several steamers every day
going up to Pilatka, and several every week going up the Ocklawaha, I
assured him he would have no difficulty about feeding his passengers.
He made an arrangement with the keeper of the stall where he had
obtained his best meats to forward to him, on his order, such supplies
as would be needed, including ice, which was a prime necessity, not so
much to preserve the meats as to cool the water, and put various
articles in condition for the table.
In spite of the general belief in the dampness of a Florida atmosphere,
I learned that meats would keep longer than in Michigan. There are no
cellars in Florida, and the dwelling-houses are usually set on posts
planted in the ground. Meats are hung up in a shady place, where they
will keep for a week or more; and even then they are dried up, instead
of being tainted or putrefied. The steward had filled the ice-house
with the best beef, mutton, and poultry he could find, most of which
came from New York, though some of the Southern markets are supplied
with beef from Tennessee and Kentucky. Most of the cattle of Florida
range through the woods and pick up their living, so that they are not
properly fatted for the market, and look like "Pharaoh's lean kine."
No particular hour had been fixed upon for starting on the up-river
trip, but the passengers came on board at ten in the forenoon. At this
time steam was up in the boilers, and everything ready for an immediate
departure. But Mr. Cornwood had not put in an appearance. I had not
seen him since he went on shore at the wharf, on Saturday evening. I
was not much annoyed, for I knew where I could get a pilot at fifteen
minutes' notice.
Chloe, Griffin Leeds's wife, had come off with the ladies. She remained
perfectly neutral, tho
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