Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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^ % " I3SgED SEMI-WEEKI^^ ^ l. m. grist & sons, Publishers. J % Jjamitji gtepapcr: cJfor ?romoiioit of (he political, Social, Agricultural, and Commercial interests off the |peogte. { fAivJ cents?!iCE' ESTABLISHED 1855. TORKVILLE, S. C-, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1899. 3STO. 69. THE MYSTI COUNT By FRED 1 Copyright, 1899, by the American Press Assoc Synopsis of Previous Installments. In order that new readers of The Enquirer may begin with the following installment of this story, and understand it just the same as though they had read it all from the beginning, we here give a synopsis of that portion of it which has already been published: Count Boris Landrinof, a young Russian student at Oxford, receives a telegram from his mother that his father, Count Vladimer Landrinof, is missing and asking him to return to Russia at once. Before starting for home Boris meets his friend Percy Morris, who tells him that he saw his father that very day in London. Boris, on arriving in Russia, finds that his father had gone to the railway station, but bad not taken a train. Here the trail was lost. Boris learns from a peasant' that he had driven three men to a post station. Percy arrives in Russia, and he and Boris interview the master of the post station and are told that the postmater drove the party referred to to St. Petersburg. Percy and Boris direct him to drive them to where he left the party, and he drives them to the Landrinof residence. Borofsky, a detective, is employed, and it is decided that Percy shall return to London and endeavor to obtain a photograph ot the man resembling the missing count. Percy secures the photograph, which greatly resembles the count. The countess then tells her son that her father had a brother who fell into criminal ways. U/-.?-r.fcL-T7 onos tn r,nndon for the Dumose of bringing back the man who resembles Count Laudrinof. Borofsky follows his man, who endeavors to elude him. They have an interview, and the man agrees to return with him to Russia. Borofsky and the supposed count return. Boris does not believe that the latter is his father's brother, Andrew Landrinoff. CHAPTER XV. THE IMPOSTOR'S (THREAT. When the silence was broken at. length, it was poor old Percy who broke it "This is a pretty business," he said. "And what a blithering, blundering pedigree ass I have made of myself I It is all my fault, old man, and I feel?I really do?that to ohuck myself into the Neva is the only and certainly the most appropriate and endurable thing left for P. J. M. to do." "Nonsense!" I said. "It will all come right. We shall never find the right track until we have tried and rejected each wrong one that crosses it and leads us astray. Don't look so glum, Percy, nor you Borofsky either. It isn't your fault. Yon did your best, and did it well. How could you tell he was not father, when even mother and I passed the photo as authentic?" "Still one feels what a mess one has made of the thing," said Borofsky. "But look here?Count Boris, and you, too. Mr. Percy, you may both be witnesses?I hereby swear that I haven't done with this sham count yet. not by a long way I He has got the better of ns this time, but one dav I shall turn the tables on him!" "Don't frighten him, Borofsky," I eaid. "We shall be more likely to make him of nse to ns if we let him be awhile." "All right, all right," said Borofsky. "I shall do nothing foolish. I intend to win next time, my friend; my reputation has leeway to make up. If you are kind enough to forget it, I cannot." "So has mine," said Percy, "and I'm with you in this, Borofsky. If we can score off the rascals, we will. Is it a league?" "League or no league." growled Borofsky, who was despondent and not very genial, "I'm not going to rest until I'm quits with the fellow. We ought, of course, to inform the police that he is here?whoever he may be? and let them take this matter over. He is sure to be up to no good. But the countess wishes him left to himself, and I would prefer it that way. because if the police get a finger in the pie the fellow is as good as delivered out of our hands, and I, for one. have not done with him." "Only don't forget, Borofsky," I eaid, "that the main idea is to find father. If there were not the hope of getting tbis rascal to disgorge some important information about the count, which mother seems to think he may possess, I ehould be in favor of letting the police have him. " "And remember, you,"said Borofsky, "that he will not stick at a lie, nor at a hundred lies, in order to be left in the house undisturbed I Why do you suppose he has come here?" "To live well and luxuriously on a xroar T ohnnld think." 1 laughed. "Not a bit of it," said Borofsky, who was not overpolite tonight I forgave him his discourtesy because he was sore after his defeat and disappointment. "Not a bit of it. He would not risk so much for the sake of comfortable quarters. He has a game on. a deep and probably a most infernal and murderous game, of some sort, and he is going to play it from the safe and convenient sanctuary of Count Landrinof's town mansion and to pass?having found that he can do so with impunity?as the count himself. There, mark my words, and I will remind you of them presently. This man is going to play a deep game. He is a revolutionist, probably a nihiliist, and he is taking the advantage of his unexpected likeness to the count, your father, in order to carry on his machinations without suspicion. Do you follow me?" "Gad, Borofsky 1" exclaimed Percy, with admiration. "It's a jolly good ideal" I concurred. "Bat." I said, "how is father's dia ERY OF LANDRINOF. WHISHAW. lation. 1 . % covery to De advanced Dy allowing tnis fellow, or seeming to allow him. to do as he likes and hatch all manner of deviltry from the shelter of our house?" "We mustn't hurry," said Borofsky. "We shall watch him. He may have the mystery of your father's absence in the hollow of his hand. We must catch the rascal in some plotting and get him into our power and force his secrets out of him by threatening him with the police and Siberia." "What if he is my father's brother ?" I said. "Well, but so he is, in all probability. I asked him, but he denied it, which, of course, means nothing, one way or the other. There could scarcely be another so like the count." "But. for heaven's sake, Borofsky, let us be careful what we do. What if the fellow were to commit a crime and be arrested as Count Landrinof and punished under his name?" "We don't want him to commit any crime, of course, but we do want him to conspire, so that we may watch him and eet him into our power; that's all." "It's dangerous, Borofsky, in many ways. Look at the disgrace of it, if anything were to go wrong, the horrible disgrace and dishonor to our family name, father's name to be mixed up with vile, murderous plottings and crimes I Bah I I bate to think of it " "My dear sir," said Borofsky. "it need never come to that. If we move, we shall move carefully, and nothing shall be left to chance." "And what if he ehould be my uncle Andre? Shall we deliver him up to justice when we have done with him?" "Now you are going too fasti" laughed Borofsky. "We have to catch our hare first before we can cook him. I should think, when < -e has an uncle of this kind, the sooner one gets rid of him, whether by means of the police or any other way, the better." "Ought we not to organize some method of combined spying, Borofsky ?" said Percy. "One doesn't like the work, but we must be spied upon if we wish to find out anything useful." "We will do so, of course, presently. But for awhile he must be left to himself, for he must not have the faintest suspicion that he is suspected cr watched. Give the bird a ehort period to get over its first fear, so that it may learn to hop about freely and pick up the seeds prepared for it. Bring the net along when it has fogotten its fears!" So for a little while we left the impostor count alone and allowed him to do what he would and go where he liked, nnwatcbed and undisturbed. During this period only Percy and Borofsky ever spoke to him of our party. I would not allow my mother to go i.1 ??U T f.naf Lit'a I but? Wicitu , UCibliCi nuuiu x iiauo* myself to approach or speak to him. Borofsky played his game well. He gave the fellow to understand that all in the establishment had the countess' orders to see that he had everything he tould possibly desire and that she was anxious to see him well satisfied in the hope that, if only in gratitude for her hospitality and kindness, he would repay her presently with some information as to the mystery of father's disappearance. "Ha. ha I" said our visitor at this. "I owe you some little make up for the trick I played you, Borofsky. eh? You are very young, my son, and must learn your business by painful experience All right; you shall have my secret some day?thut is, if none of you play the fool before the time comes." "Play the fool?" said Borofsky "How; in what way?" "In any way that would displease me," growled our impostor. "Never fear. I shall 60on know it if any of you start playing the fool. " But Borofsky disclaimed all intention of playing either the fool or anything else and repeated that the countess wished her guest treated well and hoped for the return he had indicated as soon no nneal HI a as Jjung* vivi "Well, she shall have it," said the other, "when the time corneal" "News of her husband ?that is what her excellence is longing for." continued Borofsky "She believes, rightly or wrongly, that you may be in possession of knowledge which would assist her to find the count." "Yes. rightly or wrongly, she believes this," said the impostor, with an ugly laugh. "Ha, ha I I shall have plenty to tell her when the time comes." "When will that be?" asked Borofsky. "Oh, come, cornel Let a man rest after his journey!" said the impostor. "Everything comes to those who wait' CHAPTER XVI. A.NDRK LANDRINOF, THE COUNT'S BROTHER. So we three men settled down to watch the one man, though we allowed him to observe no indication that we were interested in his actions Ana ar first we thought we must be mistaken as to his connection with revolutionary people, anarchists and malcontents and shady characters generally, for his conduct was quiet and exemplary, and he came and went in and out of the house, mistaken by most of those who Baw him for Count Landrinof. "Confound the fellow I" said Percy one day after a fortnight or more of this blameless existence "When is he going to start nihilist meetings in the house, and so on? He gives us nothing to go upon I" "A watched pot never boils,/' 1 laughed; "at leasFnot till one ft sick of watching." Nevertheless presently a little steam began to issue from the spont of onr kettle, and we knew that the water was on the move. In other words, onr friend began to show a little activity. He went about the town more frequently. Queer, weird looking people came at intervals to see him and sat in father's study in consultation with the impostor. The time Vio/1 nnmo fnr no fn ntnrt xcnrk an nmn tear detectives, an occupation I most cordially disliked. Bnt father was still unfound. Indeed we were no farther on toward clearing np the mystery than we had been a week after his disappearance, and mother fretted and wept. Great heavens I To set all this right and see dear mother happy once more I should spy with the best and meanest. One evening Borofsky returned home in the best of spirits. "What is it, Borofsky?" I inquired, for I saw that he was longing to be asked. "I've had a good haul today," he said, rubbing his hands. "Our friend's busy over some deviltry, I'd stake my existence on it. He has been present at a secret committee meeting this afternoon. and I know where they met and how many were present. " "And what they plotted." I asked, "and who they were?" "You are going too fast, my dear sir I" said Borofsky. "How could I possibly know all that? I was not in the room and all these people I have seen today for the first time." "But how did you get to see them at all?" I asked. "Didn't you run a great risk ?" "Some risk, no doubt, but I wasn't Borofeky, mind yon?I was disguised. I went to my lodgings early in the afternoon and put on a beggar's dress that I have in stock?a perfect disguise. In this I returned here, standing outside this very door till our friend came out. I did the same yesterday, but he kept me waiting several hours and never came at all. Well, this afternoon I had hardly been here a quarter of an hour when out comes my man, jumps into a drosky and drives away. "Luckily I. too, had a drosky waiting round the corner and into this 1 jumped, throwing the cloak over me that was already prepared for my use in case of need and lay folded ready on the cushion. "I followed his drosky right across to the island side, down the first line, over the Tuchkof bridge and into the Peterburgskaya. He turned into a small street that led out of the prospekt, and I stopped in the main thoroughfare a few yards farther on, threw the oloak to my driver and harried back to the corner of the small street. "His drosky was returning empty, and he bad disappeared, and I thought I had lost my man; but almost immediately another trap drove up, turned into the street and stopped at a little wooden house half way down it. So I limped toward the gate of that house? a beggar again, now?and took my stand near by "No less than seven other individuals drove or walked to that gate, sir, and entered the little wooden honse, though I was not exactly on the spot when all arrived, for the first that came gave me a grievnik (10 kopecks) and bade me go 1 farther, very much farther; but we need not specify the destination he had fixed upon me. The next was no more polite, and rather than cause anger or i rouse suspicion I moved a few doors away. When all had arrived?nine or I ten there must have been in all?I i waited a few minutes and then departed. " "Well done, Borofsky," said I. "Yon 1 have certainly advanced matters today. It was undoubtedly a meeting of sorts. Our friend is up to no good, I'll be sworn 1 Well, now we know one of his haunts, anyway! We'll catch him out yet, and then we'll name our terms for saving his head from the only place it's fit to fill, and that's the noose. " "What manner of men were these friends of his?" asked Percy; "the other members of this charming committee? A set of desperate looking cutthroats, I'll bet." "They were very mixed," said Borofsky. "There were some who looked quite respectable?officers; two fellows in civilian uniform; one or two awful looking specimens and a couple of stu ^ II ^ "/ was disguised dents with nlaids and long hair and white faces and spectacles, all complete. Our own men were far the most respectable looking of the company." We made Borofsky happy by praising him for his skill this nfternoon. He had been and still was very sore over his London fiasco and needed encouragement This interregnum was very trying, however, to mother and to me. To be obliged to bang about without advancing the matter we had so deeply at heart until such time as our impostor should think tit to commit himself to some villainy and we should find means to suspect or discover it and thus put himself in our power was tantalizing ; indeed. Besides, there was always the chance that he had lied throughout and that in reality he had nothing to reveal as to father's fate. Perhaps he had never seen father and knew nothing more of him than bis name, excepting the fact that, by a stroke of excellent luck, he must so nearly resemble the real Landrinof that he was able to pass as the count with all but his closest relations, and that the count's house was uncommonly comfortable and that, thanks, from beginning to end, to the accidental resemblance, his lot had fallen in extremely pleaeant places. My mother was assured that our disreputable guest was none other than my father's brother Andre. He could ha r>r? nfhfir nhp said. for. thnncrh shfl now knew that there was nothing in the man's face to recall that of her dear Vladimir excepting the shape of the features and that it had been the grossest calumny upon the count even to mistake this other's photograph for his, yet the cast of the features was the same, and the man could be no other than the wretched Andre?supposed at this moment by the police to be far away in Siberia. Our friend, however, had assumed an absolute ignorance of the existence of any such person as Andre Landrinof, the count's younger brother, when taxed by Borofeky with being that very individual He bad never heard of the man, be said. As for his own name, Borofeky would have to contrive to exist without knowing it if it depended on himself to tell it, because, said he, it was not Borofsky's business to know it. But one evening our excellent friend rather gave himself away. He had taken to indulging somewhat freely in vodka, the spirit distilled from rye, which is the favorite drink of the Russian people, and the vodka loosened his tongue. Borofsky often sat with him of an evening, the only one of us who did, and on this occasion our guest, being slightly overrefreshed, suddenly broached the subject of Andre Landrinof. "That brother of the count's you were talking about the other day, Borofsky, " be said; "where is he, and what is he doing? Is he a count too, and rich ?" "He isn't a count, but an infernal blackguard," said Borofsky, "and I should say he is just about as rich as tee toiKS nenas roDoea are toe poorer. "Ha, ha I Good I" said the fellow. "So you think badly of him. Why ?" "Ask the police," said Borofsky. "Not II A set of infernal rascals!' exclaimed the other. "I tell you they are 50 times worse, any one of them, than this Andre Landrinof. Now, Andre"? "Whom you don't know," laughed Borofsky. "Wait?I?I think I have met him under a different name. I think he is one who is or was known as Kornilof. I met him in London." "Not in Siberia?are you sure?' Borofsky put in. "Curse you, why do you interrupt me?" shouted the other angrily. "I tell you I know nothing of Siberia. I met this man in London?Eornilof. He lives in London owing to persecutions in this infernal country, and has lived there for years." "Then it can't be Andre," interrupted Borofsky again, "for Andre has spent the dower of bis life in the mines of Biberia, where, it is to be hoped, he still blooms and will continue to bloom until i judgment day or so." "Oh, indeed I You seem to know a great deal of this Andrei" eaid our guest, with tipsy dignity and scorn. "Would you be surprised to learn that he is not such a confounded fool as you Buppose, and, at the presentjmoment, is thou?thousands of miles from Siberia and has no intention of re?returning there?" "rfnrnilnf t.Vm* 4a?" anccpntpd TV) rofsky. "Yes, Kornilof. or Andre?same thing?same man. Siberia is for fools, my friend, and the sooner yon go there yonrself the sooner you'll be in the place that's best suited for you." TO BE CONTINUED. Her Point of View. They were discussing the construction of a new gown. "From a hygienio point of view and merely as a matter of health," suggested the dressmukcr, "I think it should be made"? Tho haughty beauty stopped her by a gesture. "Hygienic point of view I" she exclaimed. "Matter of health 1 What has that to do with it? WTien I want health, I will go to a doctor. When I want style, I come to you. We will now eliminate all absurdities and discuss this purely from a common sense standpoint Will it be fashionable and becoming?" ?Philadelphia Times. The Fortune Teller. "It's wonderful, " said the credulous man, "simply marvelous." "Have you been to see that fortune teller again?" "Yes." "Don't you think most of those people are animated by purely mercenary motives?" "This one isn't. Just think of his being willing to go on telling fortunes at $1 apiece when be could give him self a tip on a dorse race or a lottery drawing and get everlastingly rioh inside of 24 honrsl" ? Washington Star Peppermint on a Senase Farm. A modem application of Samson's parable, "Out of the strong came forth sweetness," is provided by the district council of Sutton, in the county of Surrey, England. That body carries on a singular industry. It grows peppermint on its sewage farm and manufactures peppermint oil. About four and a half acres of the farm are given up to the cultivation of peppermint plants, and grow luxuriant crope. The yield of oil is nearly $150 per acre, and the price last realized was $0.12 per pound. gttisccUancoitj; Reading. J NATURE'S WONDERLAND. fs Notes of the Bicyclist by the ti Wayside. ^ fc FROM RUTHERFORDTON TO ASUEV1LLE. h, e??? w Scene* That Uplift the Soul?Trials That g| Bend the Spirit?Joys and Tribulations \V to be Experienced In the Mountains. bi Wrlten for the Yorkvllle Enquirer by Rev. W J. C. Jolinen, Rector of the Church of the rc Good Shepherd, Yorkvllle. w The remark has often been express- w ed that the scenery of the western tl North Carolina mountains is well nigh pi unsurpassable. This broad assertion w is, in a general way, conventionally hi true. The scenic effects met with in al this charming neighborhood are in- ti comparable because, perhaps, they belong strictly to this locality and no- ai where else. It is peculiarly its own. di It really has to be seen to be appre- ri ciated, and when seen in all its pris- lvy tine beauty and gorgeous magnificence, ic tongue becomes dumb, hand inert and rt the mind overpowered. T ttrTU-- -..--KUr*? MtAA/llnn/1 thn fAQAtinrlinnr Q 1 A UU WtH UllUg WWUUJtMIUf mo lvovuuuii.fe Ml shore, a, The pomp of groves, and the garniture of fields, ^ All that the genial ray of morning gilds, pi And all that echoes to the song of even." ni There is something inexpressibly rt impressionable amid mountain scenery, w Ever since creation there has been a a' wonderful fascination for man in sky- 01 land and cloudland. Whatever bis ei mood or nature may be, here there is a a subtle something that appeals to bis bi nobler instiucts that lifts him out of ai and above himself and makes him re- rc luru to busy humanity with more en- sij nobling sentiments. There is an bush- N ed aw e, a majestic grandeur, an over- tfc whelming seuse of immense strength, st a gentle persuasiveness constantly ci arising from tbe rude altars ot me ti< everlasting hills?the innate conscious- ai ness of the creature welling out to the h< creative power. at We decided to take our first view of ti< this beautiful and charming country from Rutherfordton, a little town tb which is the terminus of tbe Seaboard in Air Line. Between Rutherfordton th and Heudersonville, a distance of w about 40 miles, (for in this part miles m vary very mucb in length), there is no ta railroad. The hoarse voice of the of mighty locomotive is as yet silent. Its m shrill whistle has not as yet echoed pi and re-echced among the beauteous ot glades and well nigh inaccessible tb mountains. You have, therefore, to p< resort to the primitive customs and e\ usuagcs of your fathers to get from bt place to place. It is the best and ry most convenient way of locomotion for those in quest of nature's charm, 8p and it comes in wonderfully attractive hi form, as the writer found out on more pi than one occasion. st From the very incipient stage of w your journey, you are in the neigh- in borhood of tbe mountains. Just now, cc however, tney are bo xar away as iu 01 verify the truth of the old adage that th "distance lends enchantment to the "t view." There is impressiveness, there sii is interest, there is change ; but none di of these are of that kaleidoscope char- iti acter that will meet you later on. The iti roads, too, were in good condition to 01 Btart with. The recent dry spell had b( bad a beneficial influence upon them. b< The gradients were not so heavy ; but iti that a little "extra" exertion would ei land you safely on top. The sun was warm ; but there was a breeze which b< swept over you with a refreshing cool- v< uess, especially so in the mornings and ot the eveuings. While not an ideal w country to bicycle in, still, with a few m exceptions, it was a great deal better in than anticipated. A perfectly enjoya- of ble holiday is possible in the Western ju Carolina mountains. fr It was interesting to note nature's ot way of preparation for the enjoyment ta of the prodigal feast that would be ti< served you before long. There were as the gentle undulations, covered with a gi profusion of oak and pine, with the di clearing full of waving plumes of )u corn ; peeping from shades, suggestive ti< of quietude and peace, were the farm ol homes of the sturdy North Carolina a peasantry; a little declivity, then a in sharp turn, and you were in the waters ta of one or the other of tne innumeranie ie creeks of tbis region, muddied by the te trails of the inevitable covered wagon tb that appear indigenous and insepara- nc ble from the neighborhood ; up a gen- fe tie rise, then along a level road for o\ some distance, with ever and anon bt charming bits of scenic beauty re- in lieviug the landscape; now near, now lit seemingly afar the noise and splash of the eddying waters could be heard th sometimes ominously audible as with vi harsh swish and noisy swirl, they sped it restlessly along?and sometimes with le a cooing sweetness and softness that te had a wonderfully soothing effect upon ge the system?but like coy maidens ever nt keeping themselves aloof from sight. 8t Tbis gradual dawn, this slow pan- w oramic movement was grand. Nature pr is inimitable as a preceptress. pe After several miles of this prepara- th tory movement, the road now emerges re upon a comparatively broad and fertile lo plain, skirted with hills of varying ta size and height, but covered with vi verdure to their very height. Through th this delightful valley runs the Broad bl ?"rtiiMln.rmonno fVoot onfl nanofAH m II V CI | V/UUIU^ UIUUJ ? ??vu? MU%? V?|/V. WW n its course. It i9 along the bauks of this es beautiful stream that you are to wend iti your way. Brush, and not pen, is the g? only instrument that can do adequate bt justice to the beauties of this justly at famous stream. As is usual with roads la following river courses, it is a constant p| wind and turn and twist. The banks nt are now high, now low ; but are cover- fu ed with stunted growth and brush, or us with tall, majestic trees, through the rii leafy avenues of which you gain ds glimpses of the river flowing below, of On account of the excessively dry be summer, there was little water, com- pc aratively speaking, and the river bed iscloses now and then huge looking oulders upon which the sun's light Down with perplexing brightness, 'here were little cataracts and waterills that sounded loud and angry ; lere were pools and eddies that looked eliciously cool under the shadow of )me giant rock or ledge ; there were irds, broad and trying for man and east, especially so when the waters ould come tumbling down, boiling od hissing and foaming as in the inter season ; and there were last, ut by no means least, beautiful drives ith the loveliest shade ; but with also >ads ankle deep in heavy sands or ith jolting, rocky surfaces, which ere perfectly enjoyable as you sat in le "baggage wagon"; but which the oor, tired bicyclist would trudge along earily and perhaps disconsolately as 0 led his war steed or pushed him ong whenever he became too fracous. One of the most striking and pleasat incidents of the trip, so far, was a rive along the banks of the Broad ver, where the fertile valley previous> spoken of converged and contracted ito a narrow gorge between two inges of hills of insignificant altitude, his drive exteuded for several miles long a road narrow in the extreme ud in some parts dangerous. It reuired skilful handling of the reins to revent an upset or an accident, the atureof which would inevitably have isulted disastrously. Along this gorge as encountered a long string of cardans which seemed especially numeris this afternoon. Their white cov ings of cylindrical'proportions made most picturesque foreground to the ickground of dark and heavy foliage id forbidding looking crags and >cky declivities. It was a lovely ght in the late afternoon to see these orrn Carolina wagons lazuy droning leir way, now extending in a long ring, now twirling and turning, now rcling around some massive projecon. The light and shade of the leafy ?euue along which they moved lightened the picture considerably id made it distinctively characterise b of a mountaineer's life and habits. In spite of the spell cast upon us by ie extreme beauty of our surroundgs, the slow, lethargic movements of iese primitive, if convenient, vehicles, ould force questions of mercenary, ercantile thoughts. Time was cerinly not money to these sturdy meu ' the soil. These hardy mountaineers ust be perfectly content with small -ofits even if their sales be quick or herwise. This route to the markets iey were seeking must have been a ipular one, too, for the roads, at un'en intervals, were strewn with emirs of what had been recently a merr campfire, where "fiddle" and nouth organ" had played no incon?icuous part. Instinctively, or perips with the idea of being in close *oximity to some mountain spring or ream, these "halting places" by the ayside, would be pitched upon a bend stream or river, which would often immand a magnificent view. One ' these "halting places" was of more lan ordinary interest, and from the tpawn" visible hereabouts, was conderably patronized. This beautiful ive will linger long in my memory? i arcadian sweetness and freshness, 3 constant change, its noisy and sonous music as the waters leaped over >ulders and descended into the depths jlow, its vernal and luxuriant foliage, 3 quaint pastoral aspect made a "tout isemble" of rare beauty and alarm. There was a distinguishing element jreabouts which on account of the iry subtile influence exerted escaped ir notice entirely. That its presence as felt was unmistakable, for the istakes committed were laughable the extreme. We refer to the rarity ' the atmosphere. To endeavor to dge distance accurately, seemed aught with folly if we were to take ir Cicero's word for it. At a dis,nce of seven miles the eastern poron of Chimney Rock really appeared i scarcely three miles off. Various lesses were made at objects in the stance, and always with the same dicrous results. There was no quesaning the rarity of the atmosphere? >jects stood out with a boldness and distinctness that was truly surprisg, and unless the miles of this mouninous country are of extraordinary ngths, our guide's word was vindicad from the answers received from ie muffled mouthings, and the mo)logic affirmatives or negatives of our llow voyagers, whom we would often rertake. We would often, however, ) compelled to take cum grano sans formation tendered us upon points ce this. We now approach what I consider e most glorious of all the glorious ews of our whole trip. How shall be described ? This exquisite valy; this very heart of a country emiug with evergeens, flowers, lemds, traditions, romantic history, live simplicity, of mountaius and reams, of pine sheltered lakes and aterfalls, of sublime landscapes and -esenting some brightening feature iculiar to itself for the 365 days of e year. This region is prolific with markable legends and interesting folk re. It was among these tall mounins and this ravishingly beautiful illey the Cherokees and Creeks, ie Otteri and Erati roamed and ramed at the bidding of their own sweet ills. Sitting on the tops of the hight peaks and letting imagination have 1 full niiiotf V?nnr mnnv fon/iiflil In. j 1U1I OTT?j j nun ujuuj luuvnua iv ;nds could be evolved by a fertile aid. The Otteri amid the highest, id the Erati amid the lowest of these nds have been, have gone, with their ace to know them do more. A few imes of classical beauty and wonder1 appropriateness are all that is left i of a race thut made these woodlands Dg with their hunting song and warmce. That these primitive denizens the forest possessed a love for the >autiful, the unique, and had the >etic cult well developed goes with out saying. Standing on the banks of some of these charming rivers that used to be their happy hunting ground, and letting their language mellifluently and mellifluously escape our lips; how sweet and smooth and unctious it runs. Ariqua-Zelleecoab, Swannanoa-Tocbsoortee. Their innumerable contests with the white man and with the white man's powerful ally?firewater?have long ago depopulated these entrancingly interesting regions of their original inhabitants, and made these poetic lands more prosaic by taking away from them a most interesting and lovable background. But enough of romancing. Standing at the very entrance of this romantic, picturesque valley are stone portals of colossal gateways that rear their majestic heads skyward, which often are lost in cloudland. These huge barriers stand as it were at the very foot of the street. The eastern end of this mountain chain ends brusquely and abruptly, and at a distance greatly resembles a man's head. It recalls old Cmsar's Head, laurel crowned, and stands as an everlasting sentinel of these peaceful lands. On this particular evening it was simply magnificent. The play of the sun through the clouds cast upon it lights and shades of the most weird and fantastic colors. For minutes its straight, precipitous sides were enveloped in such somber sadness as to give its massive flanks a titanic grandeur. On a sudden these deep shades would vanish and the old gladiator would smile brightly upon you. All the grim forbiddingness would melt away and the laurel-crowned head would be enveloped in all the glory of a hoary old age. The valley varies in breadth, but is enclosed by steep craigs and precipitous heights. Its entrance is rather wide: but it gradually becomes narrower and narrower until it ends in a funnel shaped opening in the vicinity of the Esmeralda Hotel. It is well-wooded and well-watered and the drive along its length is full of beauty and loveliness. It is also well supplied with "road houses," as some of the "bonifaces" object to the style?hotel. On your right, as you drive up, stand out with statuesque distinctness, needing no embellishment of art, Eald mountain, Chimney Rock and other heights. Some of these bluffs or cliffs rear themselves in solid masses of rock, with perpendicular sides, steep and inaccessible. The names given to these are suggested and suggestive of their appearance, tho' it must be must be confessed that at times the aid of a guide is required to trace out the particular configuration. An earthquake or perhaps some volcanic eruption that visited these parts in years gone by has left indellible impressions upon some of the peaks. Their almost straight, perpendicular walls are scarred and gashed with gullies and crevices, and they stand guard, as far as they themselves are concerned, over scenes of desolation. As a general rule, however, these mountains are particularly well wooded. The view from the steps of the Esmeralda hotel is simply grand. T? lw? nftuBAnrfiot nf tVllQ VOUAV ill IUO UatiV/TT^OU jpui V VI vutu TM?*VJ has been erected a sweet, rustic hostelry. Id front of it, Dot more than 25 or 30 yards away, is the Broad river, from the baoks of which these tall cliffs rise in an almost straight line for over 2,000 feet. From their base right up to their summit they are densely wooded with luxurious forest trees. Like a silver thread the water seems to spring from the topmost edge and to _ be carried away in a spray before it reaches the bottom. The rear of the hotel is also flanked with high ridges. They have more slope to them than those in front. The scenery here is extremely captivating. The river is dammed with huge brown boulders, and the water escapes through very narrow channels. There are shallow and deep pools, through which the current seeks a level down a deep ravine, clothed principally with pine and oak. The cascades or pools are sometimes deep?are almost invariably round. They vary from 15 to 20 feet in diameter, and in keeping with the romance of this region some of them are of fabulous depths. We have here a tradition?the isothermal belt?no dews, no frost, which would certainly make it an ideal place of residence all the year round. Apart from the natural advantages which this region undoubtedly possesses from the scenic point of view, you ? 1 iL.t U in mflun inKnmon KDOW aiSU tiiUl It 10 UUt UICIO iuuuiuau| implacable, indominable nature which 30 stupendously engirdles this valley, for you see from colons of vantage, even in the mighty hills, little cleared patches that are the homes of men? the homes of primitive people who seem to be raised above the pettishness of a civilization, which has become over-inquisitive, artificial and trivial. Their ancestors lived when Pan made music in their forests, and some of the spirit of their ancestors still abides with them. Strange, antique men are the dwellers of the mountains, with much of the worldold paganism, and the dread of the wood gods in their hearts. To these men a walk up the mountains of some 10 or 12 miles is a pleasant bit of excise, while the creature of our new civilization pants and blows as a porpoise, when he has laboriously undertaken one or two miles. Sunny days in these mountains are a delight to the souls. Resinous odors prevail, natures incenBe arising from the rude altar of the everlasting hills. There is a subdued joy among the dad hearted birds, the feathered peo , _ pie of the trees. Small, soft-footed, fur-clothed animals glide through the lowest undergrowth. Above, in wider spaces of the clearings one sees the immense and mysterious vault of blue, the air palpitating with the warmth of the noonday sun. A vast peace rests on the earth and the infrequent men you see going about their work partake of this restfulness. As the (Continued on Fourth Page.)