CHAPTER VIII. The upper St. John's commences after we pass Welaka, opposite the mouth of the Ocklawaha. Steamers leave the wharf at Jacksonville daily for this attractive portion of the country. An early traveler thus speaks of the wild animals he saw in this portion of the State, also the birds: "The buffalo, the deer, the puma, and the wild cat; the bear, the wolf, the fox, the wandering otter, the beaver, the raccoon, the opossum, and many smaller animals; large flocks of water-fowl, the white and great blue herons, and their allied species, in large numbers standing along the shores; the wary turkey with his brilliant plumage; the roseate spoon-bill, sometimes seen, and the flamingo, once a rare visitor, but now no longer found; the wood ibis, the whooping crane, whose resonant notes are heard far and wide; the stupid and unwary courlan, disturbing sleep with its night-long cry; the loathsome buzzard, circling, at times, gracefully among nobler birds, or, oftener and truer to its nature, quarreling with its kind as it gluts itself over disgusting food; also the snake-bird, of peculiar make and habit; the fish-hawk, whose massive nests of sticks and moss crown many a dead and shattered cypress; the bald eagle, soaring in the upper atmosphere, or robbing, in mid-air, the fish-hawk of its prize; the migratory birds, collecting in thousands for their journey northward; the alligator, drifting lazily with the current, or lying in his muddy wallow, basking in the sun." [Illustration: THE SAURIAN.] All of these were seen during the visit of Bartram the elder, which must have made the St. John's one of the most beautiful and remarkable rivers in America. It is now February, and a soft, blue mist frequently fringes the distant landscape, diffusing itself through the atmosphere, subduing the dazzling sunlight, when the sky and water appear to blend in one grand archway, like a half-veiled beauty whose charms are then most lovely. A very happy family is on board to-day, and the lady has just remarked, "O we have a house on the steamer, taking it up to Mellonville for us all to live in!" She was a genuine Florida settler, who could look at the sand and say, If it can grow such immense trees and big weeds, it can produce food for us all to eat. On our way we pass Lake George, eighteen miles long and ten miles wide, which the Indians called "Little Ocean," on account of the high, swift waves that are frequently seen here, attributable to the open country by which it is surrounded.