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Cape Florida Crusader flies new cotton sails & our starry Flag atop them, but four guns forward and a black hull give her the look of privateer more than Navy cutter. She pursues the tranquil business of charting at a rate suitable for my explorations & our rendezvous, although if pirate quarry offered I would be abandoned eagerly. The interior is dark, delirious with insects; snakes & vines swarm through huge cypresses, while below them shallow-watered alligator country alternates with thick stands of palmetto, nettles, & wild plum. Navigable streams are rare & it is nowhere good for walking. Recovery of shot birds from the mire is difficult. The captain expects 3 plantations from here to Texas and of wanderers like me & my party no one, white nor red. Those we meet have ships beneath them —eggers from Havana on their third trip this season for eggs so plentiful that they are not counted but sold by the gallon. One ship took 8 tons from Sooty Tern & Noddy on one island. At such a rate all the Specimens will be destroyed. —Further south, a sail closes fast and runs with us: new copper gleams through the clear wave tops, & on deck all is oiled & neatly stowed. Our captain speaks of them as Wreckers, of whom I have slanderous ideas. They are respected here, as their Salvage sometimes rescues the most enduring victims of disaster. 4i ...

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