morning.

Just outside the hummock was a cabbage-palm, which, as I have said,
abounds in Florida. It rose in straight and graceful grandeur to the
height of a hundred feet without a branch, then burst into a mass of
dark-green, fan-shaped leaves. In the centre of this mass grows the
far-famed cabbage, which is a tender white shoot, protected by numerous
fibrous folds. We were wishing for some vegetable, when Jup undertook
to obtain a cabbage. Fastening a belt round his waist and the trunk of
the tree, he worked himself up to the summit, when, drawing his knife
from his belt, he cut out the vegetable. He then chopped off a number
of the large leaves from the summit for the purpose of forming a
palmetto hut, which might afford us shelter. We cooked the cabbage,
though it is often eaten raw, and agreed that it resembled a Spanish
chestnut in taste. Carlos told us that the tree would die in
consequence of having the cabbage cut out, and Jup confirmed the
statement.

Our huts were of the very simplest description. Fixing in two uprights,
we secured a horizontal pole between them at their tops; and from this
pole we suspended the enormous cabbage-palm leaves, stretching them out
at the bottom, thus forming a thatched roof impervious to rain or sun.
Where cabbage-palms grow, the hunter, as I have shown, can in a few
minutes form a very efficient hut, capable of holding two or three
people.

Numerous birds, inhabitants of the trees near our camp, amused us during
the evening by their varied notes. One which we watched was of a
graceful form, with a long fine beak, its plumage being grey-brown above
and white beneath. Though larger than the nightingale, to which it has
often been compared, it has a superior and more varied voice, but lacks
that sweetness of expression and melancholy charm which have made the
reputation of the plaintive Philomel. It has, however, a song of its
own, composed of a dozen syllables, clear, sonorous, and harmonious,
which runs over an extensive scale. At first, it entertained us with
its own song, but in a short time began imitating those of other birds,
which it did to perfection; indeed, Jup told us, and Carlos corroborated
the statement, that it can imitate the human voice, as well as the
hissing of serpents, the roar of alligators, the gobbling of turkeys,
and the cry of all other birds. Lejoillie tried it by whistling a tune,
when the bird imitated him, introducing a number of