The Cave by the Beech Fork: A Story of Kentucky—1815

No wonder this river is called the Beech Fork, said Owen, as he rested his trusty rifle by his side and pointed toward the thickly-clustered beech-trees, which skirted the banks of a small stream.
See, too, how close they are to the water's edge; they have taken the place of the sycamore and willow, said his companion, Martin Cooper, at the same time seating himself upon the trunk of a fallen tree and looking in the direction indicated.
But do you notice anything peculiar about those beech-trees? asked Owen.
Yes; they have long, slender branches.
And the leaves—see how green they are, while the others are beginning to fade.
Beautiful, indeed, was the scene before them! The myriad leaves of the underbrush and the lofty canopies of the trees were dyed with all the varied colors of an autumn day. Even the thistle, when sheltered by some impending bough, retained its rose-pink bloom. Patches of sumac nestling close to the ledge of rocks, where larger growth could not survive for want of moisture, raised their cones of crimson berries; the sour-gum was laden with clusters of purple fruit as tempting to the eye as the most delicious grapes; the hickories were conspicuous by their russet foliage; the deep-lobed leaves of the white-oak were burning with fiery red; the ash-trees, scattered here and there, were robed in garments of purest saffron: only the beech-trees remained unchanged by the autumn frosts, for their small, serrate leaves were as green and glossy as during the summer months. Beech, beech, beech; who could number them? Here nature seemed to have prepared for them a paradise. Other trees grew there only to bring out by contrast the boundless, unbroken forest of beech-trees.
The old forest is a fine place during this month, said Martin. Still, I prefer not to spend the night here. Let us start home, for it is getting late.
I should like to have at least one shot at a turkey before we go, replied Owen. Say, Frisk, he continued, addressing a bird-dog which was enjoying a good rest at the side of his master, old fellow, can't you find a turkey for us? Why don't you work as Bounce does? Hear how he is barking and chasing that rabbit.