After a hasty sketch had been made of the bear-trap, we set out on our return; I very much regretted leaving the magnificent wilderness. On the way we found a fine viburnum, with large reddish leaves, and the Oxalis acetosella, which grew in abundance among the moss and decaying trunks of trees. The loud hammering of the woodpeckers resounded in this forest, and we shot the great spotted woodpecker of this country, which very much resembles our Picus major; for dinner we had bear's flesh, which we thought resembled mutton.
When I returned to the house of Sachs, I found the hunters, whom I had hired, in no little confusion. One of them, in particular, after receiving his wages for the first day, had remained in the public-house the whole night and the following morning. Stretched at length on a table, he had slept off the effects of his drunken fit, talked big, and found here a willing audience, a number of drinkers of whisky being collected in this place. Brandy drinking is far more common among the lower classes in America than with us; and here, on the Pokono, this bad habit was peculiarly prevalent among the country people. Not far from Tobihanna Creek there was a small wooden house, ten or twelve feet square, with a little iron stove (see the view of the Tobihanna Bridge), in which a school was kept. The stalls for cattle, swine, and sheep, are, for the most part, cages, the bars of which being pretty wide apart, the cold winter wind blows freely through them; nay, many of them had half fallen to pieces. The swine, which ran about in great numbers, had a triangular yoke round their necks to hinder them from getting through the fences. In all this part of the country, garden vegetables are raised in beds, or rather boxes, filled with mould, elevated on four posts. The seeds are sown in these boxes, and the young plants not transplanted till they have acquired a certain growth, otherwise they would be destroyed by the insects. Maple sugar is not made here, because the tree does not grow in sufficient abundance. The 42 chief occupation of the settlers, in this part, is the making of shingles, which are manufactured from the Weymouth pine. We were assured, that these peasants steal the greater part of the wood for their shingles, in the forests belonging to greater landowners, who live at a distance, and have no keepers to protect their property. One workman can make in a day 300 or 400 shingles, which are sold on the spot for half-a-dollar per 100. They are sent to all the neighbouring country, in large wagons drawn by four horses. At Bethlehem, forty-two miles from Pokono, the best shingles were sold, at that time, for eleven dollars per 1,000. These shingles are of two kinds; the German, made by Germans, who first manufactured them in this way, which are considered to be the best, and the English; the former are equally thick at both edges, the latter thicker at one side than the other. Many persons, whose horses are not otherwise employed, come here and fetch shingles.
On the 29th of August we continued our journey through forests that extended, without interruption, on all sides. After crossing a bridge over the little brook called Two-miles-run, we came to an open spot in the forest, where the great village of Stoddartsville is built on the Lehigh, which at this place is still an inconsiderable stream. The environs of the place are still wild. Stumps of trees, cut or sawed off two or three feet from the ground, were everywhere seen, and this newly-cleared spot was still covered with wild plants. As you come down the hill, you look directly into the street of the place, to which some neat and pretty houses give a very striking effect in this wilderness. We continued our journey over wooded eminences, where bears and stags are said to be still numerous. Having passed Bear Creek and Ten-miles-run Creek, we soon reached the Pokono, or highest summit of the Blue Mountains, and began gradually to descend. In the forests through which we now passed, the firs began to give way to other timber trees, and the woods are again more burnt and ruined, frequently consisting only of shoots from the stumps of oaks, chestnuts, maples, and sassafras trees, with single pines everywhere rising above them, as the palms in Brazil do, above the lower Dicotyledones.
On one of the next eminences, we came to another lofty point, whence we had the most extensive view, backwards and forwards, that we had yet enjoyed in these mountains. Towards the north-west lies the beautiful valley of Wyoming, through which the Susquehannah flows; and backwards, in the opposite direction, a rude prospect of wood and mountain, where peak rises above peak, and the eye ranges over an uninterrupted extent of immense forests. It is said to have been ascertained, by actual measurement, that this spot is 1,050 feet above the level of the Atlantic. Unfortunately, our time would not allow us to take a drawing of this grand prospect. From this place we began to descend into the valley of the Susquehannah, where the woods assume a more cheerful character, the firs being soon entirely succeeded by the oak, chestnut, and other timber trees. The road resembles an avenue, overshadowed by lofty oaks, tulip, chestnut, walnut, beech, hornbeam, birch, maple, elm, nyssa, and other trees, growing very close 43 together. Here we already see the formation of the conglomerate—the precursor of the coal district, which we now enter. When we had descended rather more than half way down the declivity of the mountain, we were taken about 200 paces to the right of the road, to be surprised by the beautiful prospect of the valley of Wyoming, or the Susquehannah. A group of rocks of conglomerate rises, isolated in the forest, and, on ascending it, you have a magnificent view. The broad and extensive valley, covered with towns and detached houses, alternates agreeably with forests and fields; the river flows through its whole length, and at our feet lay the pretty town of Wilkesbarre, the streets of which we could overlook. It is manifest, at a glance, that the whole of the valley was formerly covered with a thick primeval forest, for strips of wood everywhere traverse the fields.
Proceeding on our journey we came to a solitary public-house, where we met with a rattlesnake. I bought it, and it was put into brandy, as a live creature of this kind is not the most agreeable travelling companion. This snake had been kept three weeks in a box, and had not taken any nourishment whatever, so that it moved its rattle but faintly when it was irritated. As it was a very large and handsome specimen, I paid two dollars and a half for it. The landlady, a very corpulent personage, was in a very light morning dress when she concluded the bargain with me, and not being able to give me change, she immediately threw on her Sunday clothes, to follow our carriage on foot, and settle the account at Wilkesbarre. Her head was adorned with a large fashionable straw hat; she had a silk gown, and a silk parasol, which she might very well have spared, protected her tanned face from the sun. It was remarkable that, heavy as she was, she reached the town as soon as we did, though we had half a league to go. Wilkesbarre, in Lucerne county, is a place with about 1,200 inhabitants, with three churches, a court-house, a bank, &c.[45] The streets are pretty regular, and the buildings separated by gardens and intermediate spaces. The place has its singular name from the first settlers, who were called Wilkes and Barre. The population consists of handicraftsmen, field labourers, storekeepers, and merchants; and several of the inhabitants are interested in the important coal mines, situated to the west of the road which we had taken. This bed of coals is said to extend fourteen miles along the slope of the valley of the Susquehannah, and then to continue over other eminences, of which there will be occasion to speak in the sequel. For the purpose of conveying the coals by water, a canal has been dug, which was not quite completed, and which is to form a communication between the coal mines and the Susquehannah. On the other side of the river the great Pennsylvania canal is already finished, which connects Pennsylvania with Maryland by means of the Susquehannah.[46] This last canal, which is divided into several parts, will be continued to Baltimore, the chief seaport, but it is not yet quite completed. Pennsylvania is already intersected by numerous canals, which connect the rivers, and are of the highest importance by the facilities they afford to inland trade.
44 The inn at which we put up at Wilkesbarre was kept by a German, named Christ, who recommended to our notice some interesting points in the environs; and we, therefore, did not take the usual road at the bottom of the valley, but soon turned aside from the Susquehannah, into a wild, lateral valley, in which there are fine waterfalls. At less than a league from Wilkesbarre, we reached, at the foot of the mountain, a wild, thickly-wooded ravine, where we soon heard the roaring of Solomon Creek. Near a mill, the owner of which is General Ross,[47] this stream forms some highly picturesque cascades over smooth, perpendicular black rocks, covered with moss, forming a basin below, in a thick forest of pine and other timber. There are two cascades, one above the other, of which the second is the largest; then comes the last and highest, where the water, conducted from the mill directly across the ravine, falls perpendicularly, about the height of a house, over a steep rock. It was, unfortunately, too late, when we arrived, to make a drawing of this interesting scene. We asked for accommodation for the night in the mill, which is a roomy house; but our countryman (this man's mother was born in Germany) could not, or would not, receive us. They gave us some of the water of the stream to drink, which had a strong taste of iron and sulphur. As it was not possible to find a lodging in the neighbourhood, we were advised to proceed three miles to the top of the mountain, which we, indeed, accomplished, but had nearly had reason to repent of our resolution.
The road ascends on the left rocky bank of Solomon Creek, in a thick forest, over rough ground, so that we constantly had the steep precipice on the right hand. There was no room for two carriages to pass; luckily, carriages are rare in this remote wilderness. As we had been told that there was abundance of wild animals, we loaded our fowling-pieces with ball. We now turned to ascend in a wooded defile, where a couple of solitary miserable dwellings, built of trunks of trees, scarcely left room for a small field or a little garden overgrown with weeds. While the road became more and more rude, and obstructed by the vegetation, twilight set in, and it was only with the greatest efforts that our horses could draw the carriages among rocks and fallen trunks of trees, and nothing but the greatest care prevented them from being overturned. We met several peasants, with their axes and guns, returning from their work in the woods: they were robust, savage-looking, powerful men, whose sudden appearance in such a lonely spot might elsewhere have excited suspicion. There are no robbers in these parts; at least, I never heard of any, but it must be owned that the place is extremely well suited to them. The beautiful cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) grew in such abundance in the swampy parts of the wood, as to form a fine red carpet. The Chelone obliqua, with its white flowers, was likewise very common.
At length the moon rose bright and clear to relieve us from our unpleasant situation, and cheered by her friendly beams the gloomy path of the wanderer. When we reached the summit the road divided into two branches, of which we were so lucky as to choose the right one. At 45 length, about nine in the evening, we had the pleasure of seeing a light; and a lonely house, in an open spot, lay before us. On our knocking, the door was slowly opened. We entered a poor hut, where two women—one an elderly person, the other younger—were sitting by the fireside. The master of the house, whose name was Wright, was not at home. The two women were very tall, and were smoking, quite at their ease, small clay pipes. They were not a little surprised at so late a visit, but soon stirred up the fire, and set on water. Our frugal supper, consisting of coffee and potatoes, was soon finished, and we lay down in our clothes on tolerable beds, placed in a large unfurnished room, which in this country are almost always made for two persons. This house belongs to Hanover township; the settlement itself had not yet any name. Only English was spoken here. Not far from the house the Wapalpi Creek ran through the thickets towards the ravine.
The night was soon passed, and at six in the morning we proceeded on our journey. In order to take a view of the Falls of Solomon Creek, Mr. Bodmer left us, and returned to the mill, with the intention of joining us again at Bethlehem, by taking another road. John Wright, brother to our host, lived three miles off, in a little rude valley, where we intended to breakfast. Some men, who were going to hay-making, with their guns and dogs, met us. The inhabitants of these woods generally take their guns when they go to their work, as they frequently have opportunities of killing some large game. They have powerful dogs, resembling our German bloodhounds, brown or black, with red marks; or striped like the wolf, and sometimes, but seldom, their ears are cropped. These dogs are used in chasing the bear or the stag.
In a romantic wooded valley we reached the solitary dwelling of John Wright, where we halted. The mistress of the house, who, with a little boy, was alone at home, gave us a very friendly reception, and prepared us a breakfast with coffee; all very clean and good for this retired spot. In the course of conversation we learned that she was of German descent, and born at Tomaqua.[48] She lived here in a pretty roomy log-house, with a chimney and iron stove; yet she said that in winter it was often very cold in the room, the walls of which were, indeed, not quite air-tight. In many rooms in these mountains we found two iron stoves. Leaving these scattered dwellings of Hanover township, we reached, in five hours, the Nescopeck Valley, eleven miles from our last night's quarters, the road to which is bad, little frequented, and in part stony, gently ascending and descending, and passing through ruined forests, such as have already been described. In some places the wood is thicker, in others the sides of the mountains had been quite cleared, and were covered with young shoots and some higher trees; small streams, here called runs, flow in the defiles and valleys; the bridges of beams over which were, for the most part, so rotten, 46 and in such bad condition, that horses and carriages could not pass without danger. We saw no human beings or dwellings on this road, nor any animals except some small birds and frogs. After this rather monotonous journey, we were glad to descend into the Nescopeck Valley, and reached it, at the mill of one Bug, of German descent, where we refreshed ourselves with milk and brandy. The Nescopeck Creek, a pretty considerable stream, which turns several mills, flows through this beautiful wooded valley. This district belongs to Sugarloaf township, in Lucerne county.