THE SWANNANOA.
One of the weird sights of this region is a mountain fire. On a dark night such conflagrations are, of course, more spectacular, and when belts of flame cover large areas and are detached fiercely from one another, the resemblance to Kilauea, the burning lake of the Sandwich Island, is startling. In these days of Hawaiian perturbation and discussion one could easily imagine that he was in the Eden Isle of the Pacific ocean, and might look for dusky maidens darting by on horseback with red hybiscus flowers blushing in their lustrous black hair.
This enchanted region is reached by the Richmond & Danville railroad, whose lines furnish approach also to many other places in the alpine location of South Carolina and Georgia that merit equal attention with these scenes so imperfectly described or sketched from memory. Cæsar’s Head, near Greenville, is a genuine curiosity, and even the old European or Rocky Mountain traveller admits that the prospect from this precipitous elevation is awesome and inspirational. At the old town of Clarksville, in North Georgia, the scenery is transcendent. Once you have seen Mount Yonah you will never forget it, and when will ever fade from your recollection the prodigious carving, by witchery in distant perspective, of the Cherokee chief stretched gigantically upon his sky-line bier? From the porches of Roseneath villa you best discern this strange conformation. There he extends, in tremendous dimensions, graven on the horizon, a distinct and spectral Indian shape, with drooping plumes. The people thereabout know him familiarly as Skiahjagustah. You may, in quest of gold, for the region is full of it, seek to penetrate this mysterious personage, but he will vanish as you approach him, transformed to common rock and tree and shrub, and yet reappear by enchantment when you go back to Roseneath and summon him from beyond the Soquee river. Here asthma has no clutch and rheumatism ceases to torment. A German workman came here crippled from New Jersey, and presently grew perfectly well in this climate. He is busily at work in wood and iron in a shop of his own, and happy in possession of a little farm, which has a famous vineyard like unto those which gem the banks of the Rhine or Moselle.
Just beyond Clarksville is one of the most beautiful valleys in all this world—the Vale of Nacoochee—with Yonah dominating the fertile plain, and the upper Chattahoochee river purling around it. Here the mound builders of the continent had cherished habitation, and here they left monumental signs of their existence. Here the Cherokee loved to dwell, and just on the banks of the river and circumjacent to the mound, where clover and corn attain exceptional proportions, is a cemetery fat with Indian death. From Clarksville to Toccoa and Tallulah Falls is a mere jaunt of an hour or so. But why attempt to portray the graceful cascade and the terrible torrent? Ben Perley Poore, who had roamed in many lands and had adoration of all sights of nature of a high and exceptional kind, once told me that after all of his wanderings the scenes that lingered longest and fondest in his memory were those around Clarksville and Tallulah. Oh, you must see for yourself the unrivalled Georgia waterfall, with its tremendous chasm and precipitous descent, not in one roar of waters, but by successive leaps and bounds and plunges, alternately divided in swirling pools before dashing headlong down to the palpitating plain. Each fall is distinct in itself and of varied fury, as you will perceive either from the brink of the abyss or in touch with the vital torrent. This, too, is the Sky Land—glorious land—and here, in the coming time, as elsewhere in the alpine region of the South, many thousands will come ecstatically. St. Augustine waited long for a Flagler and Asheville for a Coxe, but they came in the ripeness of time and amazingly well did they perform the work appointed for them. If some men like these should, in their opulence, propose to magnify Clarksville, Nacoochee and Tallulah, what new splendors will come to the Land of the Sky, and what blessings will be lavished upon thousands of human beings who only need to know the South to love it, and who are beckoned back to health and strength and happiness where
“Far, vague and dim,
The mountains swim.”