On this mountain which is three
thousand three hundred feet above the sea, is an observation
tower, from which an unobstructed view of all the Catskills
opens up before you. Truly, Nature has been lavish in her
bestowal of rare gifts of scenic beauty at this place.
Standing there and looking out over the magnificent panorama
before us, we thought how often the eyes of that gentle lover of
Nature gazed in admiration out over the rolling hills or rested
lovingly upon some rare flower or strange bird until he gained
their secrets.
You will see many wonderful orchards in New York state and much
of the land is given over to the raising of fruit, for which it
seems admirably adapted. You will also notice other less
inviting regions, where the old homesteads have gone into decay.
In several places we saw many vacant homes around which crowded
whole armies of weeds, while scraggly, mossgrown apple trees
still managed to send forth a few green branches. It must have
been a scene like this which Shakespeare saw, when he wrote:
"The whole land is full of weeds; her fairest flowers
choked up,
Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined."
The crumbling moss-grown stones of the fences over which poison
vines were clambering and the myriads of wild carrot, chicory,
and ox-eye daisies added to the desolateness of the scene.
While crossing New York travelers will find it worth while to
make a journey to the Mohawk Valley, which is one of the most
beautiful in the state.
Go with us and stand on a crest of upland and you will see where
the plain abruptly ends. Here lies a rich and verdant lowland,
perhaps one hundred and fifty miles in length, spread out before
you; a vast expanse of green meadow through which the Mohawk
winds slowly and majestically to join the Hudson. You glimpse
from here a distant gap in the mountain through which the river
has worn a gorge. "Here you see a long freight train (one of the
tireless servants of the New York Central) coming from the
Mississippi valley." You are amazed that it does not have to
climb the foothills. Here you find the only level pass between
the Gulf of Mexico and the St. Lawrence, in the Appalachian
mountains. Here was the historic capital of the Five Nations.
The great castle was surrounded by numerous wigwams of the
tribe. Hiawatha lived and ruled here two centuries before. He
was the founder of the Five Nations. "He developed their life
for the good of the people. He taught them to live noble and
better lives, and was finally borne in the flesh to the happy
hunting grounds."
TRENTON FALLS
Who has heard of Trenton falls? We had heard much concerning
their beauty, but were not sure as to their location. After
consulting several maps and guide books which gave us no
information whatever on the subject, we decided to ask
information from the manager of the hotel, with a feeling of
certainty that we would soon be planning for the morrow's
enjoyment. Our host, who was a stout old man having a
cosmopolitan face, on being asked the location of Trenton falls,
threw his head on one shoulder and, after inspecting us for a
few moments with a "remarkably knowing air," said, "There is no
such place around here." Then brushing the ashes from his cigar
and with a nod of satisfaction at his own astuteness, he
replied, "I have been in Utica many years and never heard the
name."
Finally one of those generous souls who always supply the
missing information appeared, just at the moment when we felt
like giving up in despair. He said, "I think there is a Trenton
falls some place hereabouts, but can't tell you where." Now the
"where" was the most important thing to us. Seeing the look of
disappointment spread over our faces, he quickly said, "I am
almost certain the tall man with the palm beach suit and straw
hat can tell you about its location."
Sherlock Holmes could not have traced a fleeing fugitive from
justice with more ardor than we the location of Trenton falls;
and like children playing a game in which the boys guess where
an object is hidden, we thought many times we were quite warm,
only to awaken to the stern realization that we were very cold.
When we summoned enough courage for an interview with the other
gentleman, it was with the feeling of a person who has an
appointment with the dentist.
The more we attempted to locate Trenton the more of a mystery it
became, and we confess this only heightened our interest the
more. The very act of locating a spot represented as famous and
now seemingly forgotten had a fascination about it that excited
our imagination; we fell into conjectures regarding the scenery,
vegetation, and above all, the location of this forgotten place.
"Trenton falls," we repeated to ourselves, is a poem of color
and a softly singing cataract that is embowered in the most
romantic landscape we have ever seen - we learned that from a
book of travel. "It is a mere echo of Niagara with the subtile
beauty and delicate charm, yet lacking the noisy, tumultuous
demonstrations of the greater cataract." What else? It may be
conveniently reached in a short time from Utica. The blue-book,
"beloved of tourists," did not deign to notice its existence if
it ever had one. We were not so sure but that it was only a
fanciful creation in the brain of some romantic writer.
