Along the road at various places people have balsam pillows for
sale. We made no purchase, for why buy a pillow when the whole
forest is ours to enjoy? We need only to smell the fragrance of
balsam buds and our cares are smothered, and we pace along some
mountain brook with buoyant step and happy heart that keeps time
to its purling, liquid voice. Often we see these lovely
murmuring trout brooks gleaming in hollows where quiet pools or
glistening falls await the coming of the happy youth with a
fishing rod across his shoulder. Old men, too, have found them
out and grow young again when they spend a few days along their
shady banks. They are wiser than Ponce de Leon, for they have
found the Fountain of Youth among their native hills without
going on a long journey.
We passed through Phoenicia, a small village in the valley of
Esopus creek at the southern end of the famous Stony cove.
"Stony cove has steep sides, whose frequent knife-like edges
have been carved out by erosion; on either side are crags and
high, serrated mountain peaks. Slide mountain, about ten miles
southwest from Phoenicia, has an elevation of four thousand two
hundred and thirty feet; being the highest in the Catskills.
About six miles from Phoenicia lies the village of Shandaken.
Its altitude is one thousand and sixty-four feet. The village.
takes its name from an early Indian settlement and valley,
meaning in the Indian language, "Rushing Waters." It is here
that the Bushkill and Esopus join, giving a reason for the name.
The Shandaken tunnel is to be located here. This tunnel,
contracted for by the city of New York, will cost twelve
millions of dollars. It will connect the Schoharie river and the
Gilboa reservoir with the Esopus and Ashokan reservoir."
We next entered a very picturesque country. True, the mountains
did not rise so high, as mountains go, and did not affect one as
do the sublimity and grandeur of the snow-clad Alps, yet the
warm light falling here and there in streaks and bars on
beautiful fern gardens that nodded and swayed in the cool forest
depths, where springs gushed forth in crystal clearness,
"brought that tone that all mountains have." We passed through
Arkville, a village of six hundred people.
Our curiosity was aroused concerning the name. On making inquiry
we learned that one fall there had been a freshet which carried
vast numbers of pumpkins down the east branch of the Delaware.
The house of Colonel Noah Dimmick was untouched by the water,
and his home was given the name of Noah's Ark, "from which the
name of Arkville was suggested. The summer residence of George
C. Gould, Jay Gould and Anthony J. Drexel, Jr., are located near
here. Francis J. Murphy, the noted landscape painter, owns an
ideal estate in the woods adjoining the village. The studio of
Alexander H. Wyant, who was considered one of America's best
landscape artists, is still to be seen amid its picturesque
surroundings." No wonder the place was chosen by the artists,
for they never would lack for sketches of the most picturesque
and sublime character. The work of Indians may be seen on the
inner walls of high caves, known as the Indian Rocks, rudely
carved with strange hieroglyphics.
This forenoon we feel as if we were treading hallowed ground,
for all through this beautiful region are trails that were used
by America's most beloved naturalist, John Burroughs. What a
wealth of woodland lore, fresh as these dew gemmed meadows, pure
as these crystal flowing streams, serene and high as these
beautiful hills, he has left us. How much of our enjoyment in
birds and flowers we owe to this gentle lover of the true and
beautiful in Nature. How many lives he has helped, by showing
them wherein lies the real gold of these hills. On reading his
pages, redolent with the spirit of the out-of-doors, one is
conscious of a feeling of grandeur and solemnity as when
listening to a sonata by Beethoven.
The beautiful village of Roxbury is the birthplace of this
gentle Nature lover and enthusiast. Here too, Jay Gould, the
great railroad magnate, was born. Both grew up in the same town,
amid the same sublime mountain scenery. These boys both lived on
the farm, and attended the same school, but how different the
product! Both found the work for which they were fitted. Here
the mountains are comparatively graceful and gentle in contour.
Their loveliness is unsurpassed. No wonder Mr. Burroughs was
contented to dwell here, no matter how far he traveled. Even on
his last day he was found with his face turned toward his native
hills, which afforded him such a wealth of beauty and natural
scenery and such a free and glorious life. "Mr. and Mrs. Finley
J. Shepard (Helen Gould) spend two or three months each year at
'Kirkside,' their modest summer home on the west side of Main
street, near Gould Memorial church just north of village
center."
About three miles from Roxbury is a small village called Grand
Gorge. One and one-half miles from the village Irish and Bald
mountains tower three thousand feet, and crowd river, railroad
and highway into a narrow pass. The Gilboa reservoir is located
three miles northeast of the village, and the Shandaken tunnel
three miles east. The purpose of both the reservoir and tunnel
is to augment the great Ashokan supply. The view of the
Catskills through Grand Gorge is most beautiful. Here you
lookout over a vast mountainous landscape; the foliage of the
maples sheers regularly down, covering the mountain sides with
their leafy terraces.
