wildly over rocky inclines or between steep slopes, until,
tired with its play and burdened with commerce, it placidly
takes its course to join the great Brotherhood of Waters.
For many a mile the steel path of the Erie Railroad
keeps company with the stream, as it winds erratically
between the rugged steeps of the Delaware Mountains.
Should daylight favor, a traveler along this route for some
miles west of Port Jervis is treated to a succession of charm
ing views. One one side a precipitous cliff menaces the
train as it speeds on heedless of danger. Below, on the
other hand, the impatient river hurries seaward, here boil
ing over “riffs,” and yonder slackening its pace to gather
strength for the next mad race. The rugged hills flanking
its farther shore throw back defiance from their heights.
Scantily clad pines, forming a thin skirmish line along the
rocky hill-sides, stand guard over the feebler shrubs. The
blue of the sky or gold of the afternoon sun reflects in the
waters as we course onward past pool and shallow. Now
the stern hills take on a gentle air. Deciduous trees lend
their kindly cover to the naked rocks. Nature, seemingly
satisfied with her sterner mood, is more wont to smile. The
hills, once crowding, now recede, as if wearied with holding
back their enemy, the white man. Rugged sides give place
to less precipitous slopes, and here the vistas of short val
leys reveal small farms. The white man has taken advan
tage of Nature’s relaxation. Twisting and turning, the
train continues sturdily around headland and through cut,
until it suddenly brings up, with a hoarse cough, at a part
ing of the ways, as if in doubt.
Before us opens a panorama of rare beauty. The hills,
relenting, enclose between their long arms a generous valley.
The breath of summer descends their wooded sides. Rho
dodendron and mountain laurel, dogwood and trailing arbu
tus lend color to the picture and fill the land with their
fragrance. The river, fascinated, forgets its mission and