“Some of the old settlers about here call it ‘Calico Bush,’” Eletheer laughed. “Is not the name appropriate?”
“Eletheer knocks the sentiment out of everything,” Jack retorted. “She will probably tell you, Dora, that the leaves are poisonous, so don’t eat them.”
“I’m hungry enough to eat anything,” Dora replied.
“Score one for Dora,” joined in Cornelia. “I’m thankful that we’re almost there.”
Those who have never visited Sam’s Point can have no conception of the grandeur of these rocks there piled in fantastic shapes. It needs but a little stretch of the imagination to believe one’s self among mediæval castles. One almost expects to see some plumed knight appear on the turret-like walls.
The trees are scattered, but a balsamy odor fills the air and the blending of colors makes the scene one of rare beauty.
They put out their horses and took dinner at an inn near the Point, and afterward ascended to the airy summit, where, lying down on the smooth floor of rock which appears like a plaza, they looked out on a view sublimely beautiful, aptly described by a familiar writer: “On the south the view is bounded by the mountains of New Jersey; the Highlands of the Hudson lie to the southeast; with the white sails of sloops and the smoke of steamers in Newburgh Bay, plainly visible to the naked eye; the Housatonic Mountains of Connecticut bound the horizon on the east; the whole line of the Berkshires of Massachusetts and portions of the Green Mountains of Vermont may be seen to the northeast; while the Heldebergs on the north, the Catskills and Shandaken Mountains on the northwest, the Neversink on the west complete a panorama in some respects unrivalled in America.” Down at their feet lay the historic valleys of Rondout and Wallkill.
“How did this bold promontory get its name?” inquired Dora.
“From an early settler by the name of Samuel Gonsalus,” replied Mr. De Vere. “The legend runs thus:
“He was born in the present town of Mamakating, was reared in the midst of stirring scenes of frontier life and border warfare in which he afterward took a conspicuous part and was at last laid to rest in an unassuming grave in the vicinity where occurred the events which have caused his name to be handed down with some luster in the local annals. He lived on the west side of the mountain, a locality greatly exposed to Indian outrage, and his whole life was spent in constant danger. His knowledge of the woods and his intimate acquaintance with the haunts and habits of his savage neighbors rendered his service during the French and Indian War of inestimable value. He possessed many sterling qualities, not the least among which was an abiding devotion to the cause of his country. No risk of life was too imminent, no sacrifice of his personal safety too great to deter him from the discharge of his duty.