The country, as we advanced, was gradually more and more wooded. We drove through fine young woods of slender oaks, walnuts and chestnuts, ash, sassafras, beech, tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica), and other tall trees, all, with the exception of a single spot, without any underwood or young trees, which is a proof that there is no intention of perpetuating these woods for future use. In many parts they are on the way to total destruction, for they contain neither timber fit for felling, nor young plants; and if it is thought fit in future to raise timber in these ruined forests, the country people must be checked in their love of destruction, and forest laws and regulations introduced. It is fortunate for Pennsylvania that the rich coal mines have been discovered. There was a very agreeable succession of woods and meadows, and we saw great numbers of the beautiful red-headed woodpecker, which, when it spreads its wings, displays a large surface as white as snow. It is often seen sitting on the fences where the ground squirrel and the reddish squirrel, with dark lateral stripes (Sciurus Hudsonius), frequently resort. The first, in particular, is seen in great numbers about all these fences, running backwards and forwards on them. The birds which we particularly remarked were the robin, the blue bird, the fox-coloured thrush, the goldfinch, the turtle-dove, &c. The Caprimulgus Virginianus, which the Americans call the night hawk, was flying about in a meadow in bright sunshine. I have seen these birds everywhere, flying about in numbers, in the daytime, like Azaras Nacunda in Brazil. This species, too, shows, when on the wing, the white transverse stripes which are observed in many species in that country. Crows and blackbirds are common, but there are very few birds of prey, which are far more numerous in Brazil. The forests in this part of the country become more lofty; the crowns of the trees spread wider, and afford a thicker shade. Travelling by a road which runs alternately through corn-fields, meadows, and agreeable eminences, we arrived at Freiburg, a straggling village, almost wholly inhabited by descendants of German emigrants. We stopped here a couple of days, to make excursions in the forests, and took up our quarters in a tolerably good country miller's house, close to which a Jew had set up his store.

On the 1st of August, conducted by my obliging neighbour, the German Jew, and some 23 others of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, we made an excursion to the Rocky Valley, which was represented to us as very well worth seeing. We proceeded through meadows and between fences for about half a league, and often saw the large prairie lark (Alauda magna, Linn.; Sturnella, Vieill.), which usually sits on the ground, on the grass, or on the branch of a shrub, and, when scared, often lights on the pines. Its song is short, and not disagreeable. This handsome bird is shy of the sportsman, and flies away betimes, when it may immediately be recognized by its short, outspread tail, the side feathers of which are white. Our path lay past isolated farm-houses, most of the inhabitants of which spoke German, and we then reached the forest, where we shot many fine birds. We next passed by several lonely log or block-houses, before the doors of which the children, many of them very poorly and dirtily dressed, were at play, and seemed to be the only possession of the inhabitants. The sky was overcast, and it rained, while the weather was very warm, which obliged us to visit the cool draw-wells of the peasants. From this place the forest was more and more filled with blocks of primitive rocks, mixed with hornblende and quartz, and these blocks lay about irregularly, some of them very large, and covered with various kinds of lichens. In this wild wooded spot, our guides could not tell where they were, till a German peasant showed us the rather hidden path, which could hardly be distinguished among the many blocks of stone. The Actæa racemosa, with its long spikes of white flowers, was growing everywhere, four or five feet high, like the Digitalis purpurea, in the mountain forests on the Rhine.

The wood now became thicker, and fuller of brushwood. We reached the bed of a stream, now dry, likewise quite filled with blocks of stone, which we followed, leaping from block to block, till we came in sight of the place called the Rocky Valley. Here, on a gentle hill, is a free prospect through the forest up the stream, where prodigious masses of great blocks of stone were so piled up, one over another, that a tract, from 150 to 200 paces in breadth, appears quite covered with them, exactly like similar heaps of stone, especially basalt, in Germany, some of which are found in the countries on the Rhine, where they are called beilsteine. No shrub or blade of grass can grow among these boulders, and the rain, which continued to fall, made them so slippery that it was dangerous to climb over them. No living creature was to be seen in this wilderness, nor, as I said before, was there any vegetation. These blocks seem to have been accumulated and piled up by some impetuous torrent, and it is said that, at the season of the year which is less hot and dry, the sound of water running under the stones is heard.

From this place we returned to the habitation of the German peasant who had showed us the way, where we refreshed ourselves with brandy-and-water. The inmates of the house were, in part, engaged, sitting under the shade of the trees, in cutting shingles, which they sold. They were much astonished at our double-barrelled guns, with percussion locks and safety caps. There are now scarcely any wild animals in these forests; hardly any but the grey fox, the 24 Pennsylvania marmot (ground hog, or wood chuck), the grey and the red squirrel, have escaped the love of destruction of the invaders.

On our return to Freiburg, I found our countryman, Dr. Saynisch, of Bethlehem, whom I had previously met with. He is a naturalist, and, being well acquainted with this part of the country, was able to give me much interesting information concerning it. He stopped a couple of days with us, and we set out on a shooting excursion the same afternoon.

On the 2nd of August, early in the morning, we left Freiburg, in the most beautiful weather, and our host drove us in his dearborn (such is the name given to a small covered vehicle), and two spirited horses, to Bethlehem, the road to which afforded us much pleasure. The country is very agreeable: meadows, corn-fields, habitations, and copses succeeded each other on the side of low hills; and the fine valley, called, by the inhabitants, Upper Sakena, is remarkably fertile. The road was here and there shaded by large trees, and a small pond was extremely interesting to us; for, besides many curious birds, we saw tortoises everywhere on the banks, and on old stumps in the water, which, however, were very shy, and plunged below the surface as soon as we approached them. In the sultry heat of noon, we reached the Moravian settlement, Bethlehem, where we put up at a German inn.[34]

This settlement is built on the top and the side of a hill, at the foot of which the Monocasa brook joins the Lecha (Lehigh). The Lecha is celebrated for its picturesque valley, which is at first wild and wooded, and lower down, fruitful and well cultivated. At present, Bethlehem is no more than a village, but it is rapidly increasing, and has already some pretty considerable streets, which, however, are still unpaved. The church is a large, neat, light building, quite in the plain style of the German churches of this sect, and gives the place a pretty appearance, being situated nearly at the top of the hill. Another large building is the girls' school, which has a shady garden, planted with timber trees, the lower part of which is on the Monocasa, where flowers of many kinds attract the little humming-birds. The lower part of the village, consisting of but a few houses, one of which is the inn where we lodged, and where there is a long wooden bridge over the Lecha, is situated in Lehigh county; and the large upper part, in the county of Northampton, the boundary line of the two counties passing through the place. Like all the settlements of the industrious brethren, Bethlehem has a number of different trades, mechanics and field-labourers. New settlers are continually arriving, and it will, in time, become a place of importance. The inhabitants are, for the most part, Germans; but there are likewise many English, and divine service is performed in the church in German and English alternately, and most of the inhabitants speak both languages. The country about Bethlehem is agreeable and diversified; the climate very healthy. Large woods alternate in the vicinity with the fields of the inhabitants, and a canal, from the coal district of Mauch Chunk to the Delaware, gives animation and support to the country by the numerous boats that navigate it. All kinds of 25 European field and garden plants are cultivated here, and likewise maize; they have even begun to plant vines; but what is called the Alexander grape, yields a rather acid beverage, which they usually sweeten with sugar. We were told that much better wine is produced in the country about Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, near York. Fruit does not seem to thrive so well in the United States as in Europe: the peach, however, may, perhaps, be excepted.

I became acquainted with the directors of this colony: Mr. V. Schweinitz, well known in the literary world as a distinguished botanist, Mr. Anders the bishop,[35] and the Rev. Mr. Seidel. All these gentlemen received me in a very friendly manner, and Mr. Seidel, in particular, showed me much kindness. Dr. Saynisch lived in the same house with me, and I derived great benefit from his knowledge of the country. Our whole time at Bethlehem was devoted to excursions in the neighbouring country. Opposite the place, on the other side of the Lecha, is a range of mountains, or moderate hills, beautifully wooded, which afforded a great variety of pleasant walks. The mountains are covered with picturesque forests of oak, walnut, and other timber trees, under which there is, generally, a thick covert of tall Rhododendron maximum, which was still adorned with its magnificent large tufts of flowers. In these dark shades we soon learned to distinguish the notes of the different birds, among which was the flame-coloured Baltimore bird, which we recognized, at a distance, by its splendid plumage, when it was flying to its remarkable pendent nest, of which we saw several. The Lecha, the bottom of which was covered with naked blocks and masses of stone, is adorned by picturesque islands, some of them of considerable extent, to which we made many interesting excursions. Numerous kinds of aquatic plants grow in the water; and among these plants we saw numbers of tortoises. Mr. Bodmer made a very characteristic drawing of this wood and water scenery.[36] When we had crossed the river, we landed on the island in a dark, lofty, airy grove, where all the kinds of trees common in this country grow vigorously, and entirely exclude the sun's rays. The ground is clothed with many fine plants: the beautiful Lobelia cardinalis, which is common in all this part of the country, was in blossom on the banks, as well as many other plants.

This beautiful forest was peopled by a great variety of birds; besides those above-mentioned, we saw, in the crowns of the highest trees, the bright red Tanagra, the black and red Baltimore bird, the humming-bird, with reddish-brown eyes; the greenish heron, and the ash-coloured kingfisher, flew up from the stones on the bank. Whenever we were overtaken by a shower of rain on these lovely islands, we took shelter in the hollow trunks of old plane trees, of which there is one capable of holding ten persons. In these cool shades we did not much feel the heat of the summer, but it was very oppressive in the town; at nine o'clock in the evening the temperature of our apartment was 18° Reaumur (72½° Fahrenheit), and there were frequent thunder-storms. At noon the temperature in the cool passages of our house was at 23° or 24° Reaumur (86° Fahrenheit).

26 We made frequent excursions to these charming islands; and Mr. Bodmer, who went thither every day to complete his sketch of the forests, generally came back laden with tortoises (Emys odorata and picta) and other amphibia, or fresh water shells. This Emys picta is one of the most beautiful kinds of this family in Pennsylvania: there is certainly no country in which tortoises are so numerous, and of such a variety of species, as North America.

The banks of the Lehigh, chiefly covered with high woods, differ from the more open banks of the Monocasa, where extensive thickets of reed and reed mace (Typha) are the abode of the beautiful red-shouldered Oriole. The little shrub-like oak (Quercus chincapin) grows in abundance on the hills that border this stream. We made other interesting visits to the wooded Lecha mountains, on the north or north-east bank of that river, below Bethlehem. They are thickly covered with high timber and much underwood, and from their summits there is a fine prospect over the whole of the surrounding hilly country. The chestnut trees have been very much thinned in these forests, as the wood is highly valued, not for fuel, as it is light and porous, but for fences, because it is said to remain uninjured in the ground for sixty years.

The splendid bright red Tanagra was not uncommon in these forests; but we now met with none that were quite red, because the old males put on, towards autumn, the plain olive-coloured plumage of the females. Many of these fine birds had still bright red spots, which showed that they were undergoing a change in their plumage. Only a couple of species of the genus Tanagra, which are so numerous in the Brazilian forests, are found in all North America; but the manner and mode of living of these animals are everywhere the same. They are quiet birds, not remarkable for their song, but make up for this deficiency by the splendour of their plumage. The small hare (Lepus Americanus) and the grey squirrel were almost the only quadrupeds we saw in these woods; but of the class of amphibia there were many kinds. The larger wild animals have almost wholly disappeared. All North America was formerly one interminable forest, only there were what are called prairies in the western parts beyond the Alleghany mountains; but all Pennsylvania, a state comprising 44,500 square miles, was a primeval forest, which was thinned in a short time by the numerous settlers who flocked to this country. The larger species of game disappeared in the same ratio; and in the immediate vicinity of Bethlehem there are now not even any deer. It was mentioned to me as a very rare occurrence, that a bear had been seen here two years before, and was immediately pursued, but in vain, by the hunters. Some small animals still live in these forests, which, however, are not to be found except at night; among these are the opossum (Didelphys Virginiana) and the skunk (Mephitis Americana). The first is not frequently met with in these parts; the latter, on the contrary, is not uncommon.

In order to catch the skunk, our hunters went by night to the Lecha mountains, and searched the forest with hounds, and almost always attained their object. The dogs killed the animal by biting it, and were sometimes a little perfumed. It has been reported that they 27 avoid the smell; but I can testify that we did not meet with any confirmation whatever of this statement. In fact, the stories told of the offensive smell of this animal are rather exaggerated, for an European polecat is often nothing behind the skunk in this disagreeable quality. The hunters brought home a half-grown skunk alive, and we kept it in a box in the garden, where it was very tame and quiet, and never emitted the slightest smell. We opened the box, and let it run about at liberty. It is only when alarmed that the skunk is offensive to the olfactory nerves. The hollow trees in these forests were the abode of the pretty flying squirrel, which, however, is not to be seen in the daytime. The banks of the river are inhabited by the musk-rat, which is often seen swimming, and is sometimes taken in the fishing nets.

One of our usual walks, during our stay at Bethlehem, was up or down the banks of the Mauch Chunk canal. This canal is divided from the Lecha by a dam, on which grow many fine plants, about which numbers of humming-birds were fluttering. In my whole journey through North America, I nowhere found these pretty birds so numerous as here. They hummed about the yellow flowers of the broad-leaved tree primrose (Oenothera), of the violet Asclepias incarnata (swallow wort), of the Impatiens fulva, with its deep orange-coloured flowers, &c., and we shot many of these little creatures, among ten of which we found, at the most, one male, with deep red throat. The dam was bordered with stones at the sides; and among them were numbers of the striped ground squirrel. Tall thistles are the constant resort of the goldfinches, which picked the woolly seeds from the flower heads. At some mills, on an island near the road, there was a grove of tall trees, the dark shades of which were animated by many interesting birds, especially the beautiful Baltimore bird and the flycatcher (Muscicapa ruticilla), which is distinguished by the same colours, and is frequent here. Under the old stems, and from the roots of the trees on the bank, the great bull-frogs leaped into the water, however softly and cautiously we approached. Their deep, hollow note was not heard so much in this season, as in the spring and the beginning of the summer. I nowhere saw these frogs so numerous as here in Pennsylvania.

Opposite to these hills, on the other bank of the Lecha, was a wood of very tall, old trees, the airy, shady crowns of which were inhabited by birds of more different kinds than any other place in this neighbourhood. From that wood we always returned loaded with booty. There, too, we observed interesting butterflies, such as Papileo turnus, the beautiful black and blue philenor, and other species. The thick hedges near the houses were the resort of numerous cat-birds. The fishing-hawk hovered over the river, watching for prey, and we often saw the three-striped viper (Coluber sirtalis) glide among the grass.

To the north and north-west of Bethlehem the woods consist of oaks without any underwood, the cattle having their pasture there. All these interesting excursions greatly increased our collections; and the Rev. Mr. Seidel, who had a good library, and a taste for the study of Nature, had the kindness to provide us with the necessary literary assistance. We lived here 28 very agreeably in the society of well-informed men and fellow-countrymen, and our residence at the extremity of the place, close to the woods and fields, afforded us the most favourable opportunity for our researches and labours; and our landlord, Mr. Wöhler, from Westphalia, did everything in his power to assist us in our occupations. This, in some degree, indemnified me for the deplorable loss of time occasioned by the delay in the arrival of our baggage. I should have reached the Western States long before, if I had not been obliged to wait for those indispensable articles. During our stay here, we often saw German emigrants arrive, almost all of whom were from Würtemberg, Baden, or Rhenish Bavaria. In the most lamentable condition, without money, without the slightest knowledge of the country or the language, they were going to meet their precarious fate. They were generally refused admittance at the English inns, and then Wöhler, not without considerable expense, took on him to forward them on their journey.

We received news from Philadelphia that the cholera had rather abated; it had entirely spared Bethlehem and its vicinity. The canal colliers gave me an opportunity of sending my collections to New York, which I did in the beginning of September. The Flora of the country had then produced its white, yellow, or purple autumnal flowers; the golden rod, sunflower, Eupatorium, and some kinds of Aster were in blossom, and the white flowers of the Clematis Virginiana.

The weather now remained very uniformly hot during the whole of July and August, with occasional thunder-storms; and if the summers in the United States are usually of this temperature, as we were assured, they are more equally hot, and for a longer time, than that season is in Germany. In order to make myself acquainted with Nazareth, the other settlement of the Moravian brethren, I drove there in company of the Rev. Mr. Seidel. It is ten miles from Bethlehem. On the road to it lies Altoona, consisting of some scattered habitations, and afterwards, on approaching the Monocasa, Hecktown. Nazareth is a pleasant place, with some unpaved streets, and has a gymnasium for the education of young clergymen. All the masters are Germans, but their instructions are given in the English language. The building seems to be old, and not very spacious. From the roof there is a fine, extensive prospect to the blue hills on the banks of the Delaware, and to the verdant, wooded banks of the Lecha. The gymnasium has a small cabinet of natural history. The church is not so large as that at Bethlehem, but can be easily warmed in the winter. A little beyond the garden, which has many shady walks, is the churchyard, where the flat, square tombstones, with short inscriptions, lie in regular rows, near to each other. The names of the brethren interred here show that most of them were Germans. There is a very fine prospect from the higher part of this churchyard. The greensward is here thickly covered with European thyme. Nazareth has about 350 inhabitants, and sixty youths in the gymnasium. There are in the place a good inn, shops of various kinds, &c. Mr. Herrman,[37] the present director of the establishment, had the kindness to show us everything worthy of notice, and we had only to regret that we could not enjoy longer the pleasure of his company, as we were 29 obliged to return to Bethlehem in the afternoon. Mr. Gebhard, from New York, who had surprised us by an unexpected visit, returned direct from Nazareth to his own residence. The view of these Pennsylvanian landscapes would be much more agreeable if the numerous wooden fences did not give them a stiff, unnatural character. Some idea may be formed of the number of these fences from the fact that, in the short distance of ten miles, persons going on foot, direct from Bethlehem to Nazareth, have to climb over twenty-five of these fences.

CHAPTER IV

JOURNEY TO THE POKONO, AND THROUGH THE BLUE MOUNTAINS TO MAUCH CHUNK, IN THE COAL DISTRICT, FROM THE 23RD TO THE 30TH OF AUGUST

Easton on the Delaware—Morris Canal—View of the Blue Mountains—Delaware Gap—Dutotsburg—Chestnut Hill—Sach's Public house on the Pokono—Height of the Pokono—Long Pond—Tonkhanna Creek—Tobihanna Creek—Inn of the Widow Sachs—Saw-mill on the Tobihanna, with the Bear-trap—Stoddart's Ville on the Lehigh—Shade Creek—Bear Creek—Extensive View of the Mountains—Wilkesbarre in the Valley of Wyoming, or Susquehannah Valley—Falls of Solomon Creek—Hanover Township—Neskopeck Valley—German Settlers—Lausanne—Neskihone or Neskihoning Valley—Picturesque Scenery on the Lehigh—Mauch Chunk.

In order to make ourselves acquainted with the interior of Pennsylvania, and the Alleghany mountains, which are the most interesting part of that state, we left Bethlehem early in the morning, on the 23rd of August, in a light, covered carriage, driven by our landlord, Wöhler, who was well known in all this country. Dr. Saynisch and Mr. Bodmer accompanied me. I left my huntsman behind to look after our affairs at home. The country was enveloped in fog, as had been generally the case for some time past, till the sun dispelled it. We took the road to Easton, where the fields were partly cleared, and covered with stubble, partly planted with clover, maize, potatoes, and buckwheat, which was just in flower. The ground was gently undulating, with an alternation of fields, and woods of walnut and oak. This country belongs to the secondary limestone formation; where-ever the ground was broken up, limestone was seen, and in the woods were several limekilns, the produce of which was lying on the fields in large heaps, to be spread over them for manure. Isolated farm-houses are scattered along the road. They are slightly built of wood, many of them very small; but there are a great number of wealthy planters in this State. The little gardens of these houses were generally planted with European flowers, and on the road-side in the hedges, the kermes-oak and juniper abounded, and their berries attracted numbers of thrushes. Horses and horned cattle are very numerous, and the first, which are often of a very good breed, are left, day and night, at liberty in the meadow, and little trouble is taken about them. 31 The peasants are very bold in riding and driving, never use drags to their wheels, but drive down the hills full trot. In the hot and dry season, this country is often in want of water, and even the cisterns made by the farmers then become dry, so that the cattle must frequently be driven five or six miles to water. This arid tract is called by the inhabitants, in their German language, "das Trockene land," the dry land.

We now saw, on our right hand, the heights on the banks of the Lehigh, covered with verdant forests, which we were again approaching. The double call of the Perdix Virginiana et Marylandica, called, by the Americans, quail or partridge, sounded in the clover fields; the ground squirrel ran along the fences; the red-headed woodpecker flew from tree to tree; and plants of various kinds, Verbascum thapsus (great mullein), Antirrhinum linaria (the common toadflax), Phytolacea, Rhus typhinum (Virginian sumach), Eupatorium purpureum, golden rod, &c., grew by the road-side; the dwelling houses were surrounded with large orchards, and the apple trees were loaded with small yellow apples of an indifferent kind, and immense caterpillars' nests covered many of the branches. A great deal of cider is made, but the culture of fruit seems to be, in general, in rather a backward state. The cherry trees, too, were covered at this time with their small, bad fruit, which, as in Europe, was eagerly sought after by numbers of birds. After travelling twelve miles, we arrived at Easton, a small town with a population of 2,000 inhabitants, the capital of Northampton county, situated at the conflux of the Delaware and the Lehigh. We alighted at the inn with many country people, and immediately set out to take a walk in the town, while breakfast was preparing. The streets of Easton cross each other at right angles; they are not paved, excepting a footway on the sides, paved with bricks; the largest of them runs with a gentle declivity to the Delaware. In a square in the highest part stands the Court-house. The buildings in the place are, in general, only two stories high; and the most interesting spot is the terrace, near the bridge over the Delaware. This bridge is 600 English feet long, has three arches, is quite closed, covered with a strong roof, and has fifteen glass windows on each side; it is painted yellow, and the building of it, like all similar undertakings in the United States, was a private speculation, and brings in thirty per cent., a toll being paid.

We crossed this bridge, and walked down the river, till we came opposite to the spot, immediately below the town, where the Lehigh, issuing from its picturesque valley, between the rocky hills covered with pines and other trees, falls into the Delaware. Near to the former, on the same side, is the mouth of the Mauch Chunk canal; and on the other side of the Delaware begins the Morris canal, leading to New York.[38] A great number of men were busily employed at this spot. On the banks of the Delaware grew Datura Tatula, with its purple flowers, tall Virginian junipers, a verbena, and other plants; and the three-striped viper darted through the low bushes.

32 Returning to the inn, we loaded our guns and proceeded on our journey. As soon as we were out of the town, we went up the Delaware on the right bank, and crossed a bridge to Bushkill, a picturesque stream, flowing between lofty shady trees, on banks richly covered with a variety of plants. From this spot the way becomes extremely romantic and agreeable. It leads close by the bright mirror of the river, which may be full 200 paces broad, in the shade of the dark forest of plane, oak, tulip, walnut, chestnut, and other trees; and on the left hand rises the steep rocky wall, covered with many interesting plants, which are protected by the shade of the trees. The river soon becomes broader, and we came to isolated habitations situated in shady groves. We stopped at one of them to send a messenger, on horseback, back to Bethlehem, where the drawing materials, of which we had so much need, had been forgotten.

The rocks often came so close to the bank of the river, that there was scarcely room for two carriages to pass each other: lofty forest trees afforded a welcome shade. In many places the rock stood out. Dr. Saynisch struck off with his hammer some fine pieces of saussurite (Hornstone), and talc, with mica; but a slate formation soon succeeded, and we were glad that we had taken good specimens of the preceding. Continuing our way, in the shade, by the banks of the river, we frequently came to other steep rocks, till the wilderness again gave way to human habitations, where we stopped at the White House to water our horses and take some refreshment. From this place the country was more diversified. The road still runs by the side of the river, which was animated by boats, and by numbers of ducks and geese. The Mudrun creek here issues in a very picturesque manner, between high trees, from a small side valley. A little farther on, we left the Delaware to ascend some pretty high hills. We proceeded along the side valley of Martin's creek, in which there are some spots of marshy meadow, where the splendid Lobelia cardinalis, which is usually found on the banks of all these rivers, attracted the eye by its deep red flowers. We then passed a naked lateral defile, where stubble, and clover fields, and woods, which we saw at a distance, reminded us of some parts of our own country. The road led over the heights, alternately gently ascending and descending till we came to the little village of Richmont, where we watered our horses, which suffered from the great heat, and ascended a considerable eminence, on which there is a mean looking church, called Upper Mount Bethel. We then proceeded through a more elevated plain, where, on the left hand, in a north-west direction, is a near prospect of the Blue Mountains, which form the first chain of the Alleghany.

This first chain is said to be only 2,000 feet above the level of the sea; but it extends here further than the eye can reach, and is uniformly covered with verdant, primeval forests. It runs in the direction from north to south, and has no characteristically shaped peaks, or remarkable forms, so that there is nothing picturesque in the total effect. With the exception of some parts, especially the beautiful Catskill mountains, most of the landscapes of North America are characterized by this want of striking outlines, and this constitutes the great difference between them and 33 the views in Brazil, where the mountains and the outlines of the horizon are almost always marked by the most striking forms, as is usual in primitive mountains.

In the chain before us, we remarked an opening in a northerly direction, where the Delaware breaks through; this is called the Delaware Water Gap, or the Delaware Gap. It is twenty-three miles from Bethlehem, and was the place of our destination to-day. We were now two miles from it. After passing the little town of Williamsburg, we saw before us, almost in all directions, luxuriant verdant woods, and eminences rising behind each other. As our horses hastened to the valley, the height of the mountains seemed to increase. At length the bright Delaware appeared before us, and we soon reached its banks. The river here forms the boundary of Warren County in New Jersey. On the opposite side we perceived a large glasshouse, managed by Germans, called Columbia Glasshouse, where many who have possessed it have already become bankrupts.

As we approached this defile, we observed a water-snake swimming in the river, which suffered itself to be carried down with the stream, but disappeared as soon as we approached. We procured one on the following day, as they are not uncommon here.

We had now reached the mountain chain, which rose bold and steep on both sides, and at every step became more and more contracted. Just before the defile, or gap, is an inn, behind which, at the distance of hardly a couple of hundred paces, runs the steep rocky wall of grauwacke and clay slate, here the predominant kind of rock. This high wall is crowned on the summit with pines, and covered at the base with various other trees, while the middle part is naked and rugged. At the foot of the mountains are luxuriant fields and meadows, in which the fine cattle were grazing. From this spot the rocky wall approaches nearer and nearer to the river, the banks of which, rude and desolate, are covered with many broken trunks of trees confusedly thrown together, many of which were still lying in the water. This is the effect of the rising of the river, and the breaking-up of the ice in spring, which had caused more extensive damages in the spring of 1832 than on any former occasion within the memory of man. Where the banks of the river are flat and sandy, thickets of young planes often supply the place of the willows on the banks of our European rivers. The plane—called by the German inhabitants water maple, or water beech; by the Anglo-Americans, buttonwood, or sycamore—flourishes particularly near the water, or in low, moist situations, where it attains its colossal growth in perfection. These young planes, on the bank, were almost entirely stripped of their bark by the action of the water.

The inn, Delaware Gap, is supposed to be 600 feet higher than Philadelphia, and the steep wall of rock behind it is elevated 600 or 700 feet above it. We might have stopped here for the night, but, as it was early, we preferred passing the Gap. The road now led immediately along the bank of the river, and then obliquely upwards on the steep wooded western rocky wall. The savage grandeur of the scenery is very striking. The forest has underwood of 34 various kinds, where numbers of interesting plants attracted our attention. Picturesque rocks, over which water trickles, covered with various coloured mosses, lichens, and beautiful ferns, stand between the trunks of the trees, and form shady nooks, caverns, seats; while all the forest trees of this country, mixed with pines, particularly the hemlock spruce fir, and the Weymouth pine, make a dark wilderness that inspires a feeling of awe.

The valley of the Gap leaves the river just room enough to force its way between the steep walls of rock; and, if you turn and look back in this interesting ravine, you see against a steep-wooded height what is called the Indian ladder. There are several islands in this part of the river, which are partially stripped of their wood by the action of the current, but some of them have pretty lofty trees on them. At the distance of about a mile from the narrowest part of the Gap, we reached a lonely house, where a man, six feet high, and very corpulent, came to meet us; he was of German descent, and his name was Dietrich. He would willingly have received us for the night in his small public-house, but there was no accommodation for our horses, and we therefore proceeded on our journey. In a short time we reached an eminence, at the turn of the rocky wall, where the solitary dwelling of a Frenchman, named Dutot, is built on a steep rock, high above the river. From this place the valley becomes more open, and the mountains less steep as you recede from the Delaware. A bad road leads over some eminences to a large open place in the woods, forming a hollow, where the poor little village, Dutotsburg, consisting of twelve or thirteen scattered dwellings, is situated. Here we took up our night's lodging in a tolerable public-house, which is also the post-office for the stages, and is kept by a farmer named Broadhead.

We had scarcely taken a little rest, when a poor old man entered, who was the first person that had settled in this part of the country; his name was Dutot, and the village was called after him. He was formerly a wealthy planter in St. Domingo, and possessed 150 slaves; but, being obliged to fly during the revolution, had purchased a considerable piece of land here on the Delaware, and commenced building Dutotsburg. He had previously lost part of his property by the capture of ships, and his speculations here too seem to have failed. The property melted away, and the last remnant of his possessions was sold. He had built houses and sold them, so that he might be called the founder of the whole of Dutotsburg; yet, after all this, he is reduced to a state of great poverty, and his situation excites the compassion of travellers who pass that way.

As the country about Delaware Gap was highly interesting to me, we remained here on the following day, the 24th of August. We were early in motion, when the rising sun beautifully illumined the mountains. Our guide, Wöhler, had accompanied young Broadhead on a shooting excursion in the woods; the rest of us went different ways, each with his gun, till breakfast time. Near the village, a small stream, the Cherry Creek, meandered through the thickets and meadows, where numbers of birds came to drink, while the report of the fowling-pieces of our sportsmen 35 echoed from the neighbouring wood. After our return, I accompanied old Dutot to see his house and his family. He himself had nearly forgotten his native language, and his family knew nothing of it. We found in this house a delightful view into the ravine of the Delaware below, and afterwards took the way to the romantic wild tract which we passed through on the preceding evening. Several plants were here pointed out to me, to the roots of which the inhabitants of the country ascribe great medicinal virtues; for instance, the snake root, perhaps Aristolochia serpentaria, which is said immediately to stanch the most violent bleeding of any wound; and, above all, the lion's heart (Prenanthes rubicunda), which is commended as a sovereign remedy against the bite of serpents. Old Dutot related a number of successful cures which he had performed with this root. This plant has a tall flower stem with many flowers, and large arrow-shaped leaves; its root is partly tuberous, partly long, pretty large, and branching, of a reddish yellow colour, and contains a milky juice. It is boiled with milk, and two table-spoonfuls are taken as a dose. The swelling, caused by the bite of the reptile, is said speedily to disappear, after chewing the root. The Delaware Indians,[39] who formerly inhabited all Pennsylvania, made this remedy known to an old man, from whom it was inherited by the family of Dutot. The latter had himself been among the Indians, and gave me some information respecting them. They, as well as the river, were called after an English nobleman, but they named themselves Leni Lenape, that is, the aboriginal, or chief race of mankind, and they called the river Lenapewi-hittuck (river of the Lenape). They are the Loups, or Abenaquis of the French, inhabited Pennsylvania, New Jersey, &c., and were formerly a powerful tribe. A great part of them dwelt, subsequently, on the White River, in Indiana, after they had been much reduced by the whites; but, in 1818, they were compelled to sell the whole of this tract of country also, to the Government of the United States, and lands have been allotted to them beyond the Mississippi, where some half-degenerate remnants of them still live. They are said to have previously dwelt between fifty and sixty years in the territory of the present state of Ohio. They buried their dead in the islands of the Delaware, which are now partly in possession of old Dutot, but wholly uncultivated, and of little importance. It is said that human bones are still constantly met with on turning up the ground, and that, formerly, Indian corpses were found buried in an upright position, which, however, seems to be uncertain, and with them a quantity of arrow-heads and axes of flint; but all these things were disregarded and thrown away, nor had Dutot anything remaining but a thin, smoothly polished stone cylinder, with which those Indians used to pound their maize. I was filled with melancholy by the reflection that, in the whole of the extensive state of Pennsylvania, there is not a trace remaining of the aboriginal population. O! land of liberty!

Our excursion was extended to the public-house situated on the other side of the Delaware Gap, where we found a live specimen of the red fox of this country (Canis fulvus, Desm.), which we had not before met with. Loaded with plants, and other interesting objects, we returned to 36 Broadhead's house, where all the persons of our party successively arrived, each with something interesting. Some boys brought me the beautiful water-snake which we had seen on the preceding day. Mr. Bodmer had taken a faithful view of the Gap, near Dietrich's public-house.

We left Broadhead's on the 25th of August, early in the morning. The place which we wished to reach on this day is called the Pokono, and is the most elevated point of the first chain of the Alleghanys or Blue Mountains. Our road led in a south-westerly direction, along Cherry Creek, through a pleasant valley diversified with meadows, thickets, and woods, and gradually ascending.

As we rose higher and higher over gentle hills, we met a disagreeable, raw, cold wind, and reached, on the elevated plain, an isolated church, with a few habitations round it. On our asking the name of the place, a person, pretty well dressed, said, "he did not himself know the name of the place; the clergyman, a German, came, about once in a month, from Mount Bethel, to preach here."

On reaching the top, we saw before us the highest ridge of the Blue Mountains, the summit of which, as I have said, is called Pokono, where an unbroken tract of dark forests covers the whole wilderness. We gradually advanced towards a more bleak and elevated region, where pines and firs more and more predominated. On an elevated plain we were surrounded, as far as the eye could reach, with woods or thickets of low oaks, from which numbers of slender, half-dried, short-branched pines (Pinus rigida) shot up. These pines originally formed the forest—the oaks, only the underwood; but the former have, for the most part, perished in the fires, with which the settlers have, in the most unwarrantable manner, without any necessity whatever, destroyed these primeval forests. On a part of the highland, cleared of wood, through which the road passes, we saw a row of new wooden houses, and at once perceived that timber is the source of the subsistence of the inhabitants. Boards, planks, shingles, everywhere lay about, and large quantities are exported. Shops, where most of the common necessaries of life were sold, had already been established in this new settlement.

From this place, called Chestnut Hill, from the abundance of chestnut trees in the forests, the road declines a little, and you see, on all sides, numerous saw mills, which prepare for use the chief product of the country. The outside cuts of the pine and firs were piled up in large stacks; scarcely any use is made of them, and they may be bought for a trifle. We had to pass five or six times the windings of Pokonbochko Creek, the banks of which are agreeably bordered with thickets of alder, birch, willow-leaved spiræa, and the Lobelia cardinalis. A great number of skins of different animals were hung up at the house of a tanner, such as grey and red foxes, racoons, lynxes, &c., which led us to ask what beasts of the chase were to be met with, and we learned that deer and other large animals are still numerous. Rattlesnakes abound in these parts; they showed us many of their skins stuffed, and one very large one was hung up on the 37 gable end of a house. Some persons eat these dangerous serpents from a notion that, when dressed in a certain manner, they are an effectual remedy against many diseases.

We had here a foretaste of the wild scenery of North America, which we might expect to find in perfection, in uninterrupted primeval forests on the Pokono; we, therefore, did not stop here, but hastened to the less inhabited, more elevated, and wilder region, where the mixture of firs in the forest already began to preponderate. We halted, and took our dinner at an isolated public-house, kept by a man of German origin, whose name is Meerwein. Forests surrounded the verdant meadows about the house, in which woodcocks were numerous. In a little excursion in the forest I saw splendid bushes of Rhododendron maximum, kalmia, Andromeda, Rhodora canadensis, Ceanothus vaccinum; and in the shade of the first, Orchis ciliata, with its beautiful orange-coloured flowers, which is found also nearer to Bethlehem.

The entertainment in this solitary house was pretty good and reasonable; all the inmates, except one man, were Germans. If we had stopped for the night, they would have gone out for us with their guns, as deer and pheasants abound in the forests. Having taken the opportunity of forwarding our collections to Bethlehem by the stage which passed the house, we proceeded on our journey. From this place the road continues to ascend, traversing a fine thick wood, frequently crossing the stream. An undergrowth of scrub oak and chestnut is spread uniformly, and without interruption, over the whole country, the pines, as already mentioned, rising above it, most of which have suffered by fire; for in the dry season these woods have often been destroyed by extensive conflagrations, which have generally been caused by the negligence of the wood-cutters and hunters. Even now, clouds of smoke rose at a distance, and announced a fire in this great lonely wilderness. The high road is here carried directly through the forest; it is, for the most part, laid with wood, covered with earth, which requires carriages with good springs.

When you have nearly reached the most elevated part of this wilderness, and look back, you have a grand prospect. Lofty ridges rise one above another in a narrow valley, all covered with dark forests, and, on the right and left, high walls of rock close the valley. We soon reached the highest summit of the Pokono, or second chain of the Blue Mountains, which, as I have said, forms the most easterly of the Alleghanys.

Mr. Moser, a young botanist, had accompanied us from Bethlehem, and I undertook with him an excursion to a neighbouring lake on the top of the Pokono, while Dr. Saynisch prepared the birds that had been killed, and our other hunters went out to look for stags and woodhens.

We proceeded about half an hour along the high road, when we perceived the summit of the Pokono, and then turned to the right towards an old decayed cottage, where oxen were grazing among the thick bushes, and followed a scarcely perceptible path through the wilderness. We crossed a valley, with thickets and scorched pines rising above them, where the ground was covered with various kinds of plants. An old path led us half a league over an eminence; after which we 38 found a valley, where the lake, called Long Pond, is situated, surrounded by low reeds and rushes, among pine woods and various interesting shrubs. On the narrow lake we found a small boat, in which Mr. Moser pushed about to botanize. He procured in this manner the pretty blue flowering Pontederia lanceolata, a red flowering utricularia, nymphæa, &c. Though this wilderness was perfectly lonely, we did not see any water-fowl, and, in fact, very little animal life, so that the botanist finds much more employment than the zoologist. The lake is about a mile long, has but little open or clear water, and receives its supply from the Tonkhanna Brook. When Mr. Moser reached the bank again, he called to me that he was very near a rattlesnake, the rattle of which he had distinctly heard; but, though we looked diligently, we could not find the animal which we had long wished to possess, because the ground was so thickly overgrown with plants. One of the sons of Mr. Sachs, our landlord, had been lately bitten by a rattlesnake while fishing, and they affirmed that he was soon cured by tea made of the bark of the white ash, which is said to be an infallible antidote to the bite of serpents.

At noon, while we were all taking some repose, we were suddenly alarmed. A mink, or minx (Mustela vison), a small beast of prey, resembling the European lesser otter, had had the boldness to attack, in broad daylight, the poultry that were about the house, and was shot. Our hunters had had no success, a single pheasant being all they had procured.

In the afternoon Mr. Bodmer joined us, having been driven hither by Broadhead. We immediately went out to look in the neighbourhood of the Sand springs[40] for a bear-trap, with an iron plate fastened to a chain, which was carefully covered up and concealed. Mr. Moser, who thought he could find the place, led us astray, but we amused ourselves with the interesting vegetation.

We made but little addition to our ornithological collections, scarcely anything having been killed but the whip-poor-will (Caprimulgus Virginianus), which is very numerous in all these forests. Day had scarcely dawned on the 17th of August, when our whole company was in motion to go seven miles to the house of another Sachs (a near relation of our host), whose widow lived there. For about a mile the wood retains the same character, the firs then attain a greater height, and are closer together. The wood had been cleared around some houses, and Phytolacea, Verbascum, and Rhus typhinum, which occupy all the uncultivated spots in Pennsylvania, immediately sprang up. The small habitations were built entirely of wood, and generally painted a reddish brown. In some places we observed traces of fire: the low scrub oaks were scorched and black, and were putting forth shoots from the stumps and roots. At times we had an extensive view of the mountains, uniformly clothed with dark pine forests, everywhere high tops and ridges, and all around black woods. The Canadian and the Virginian pine were high and close together, especially in the valleys. The soil in this part is not very fertile, and requires to be well manured. All is forest and wilderness, and bears, deer, and other wild animals abound. 39 The Tonkhanna meanders picturesquely between thickets, and the Lobelia cardinalis was in blossom on its banks. Bull-frogs appeared here, as on the banks of the Lehigh at Bethlehem, and the same species of butterflies as are found there. Not far from this place we came to a second very romantic brook, the Tobihanna, over which a short, covered bridge is thrown, and about 300 paces further, reached the lonely habitation of the Widow Sachs, in a desert spot without wood, where we were to pass the night.

Mrs. Sachs gave us tolerable quarters, and I immediately sent for the most expert hunters of the neighbourhood, in order, if possible, to procure a bear or a stag. Three or four men came who were ready to go for a remuneration. One of them had but a few days before, met with two bears and their young, among the bilberry bushes, and shot two of them. I obtained from him a fine large skin of one of them, and several interesting stags' horns.

The part of the country in which we now were was so lonely, wild, and grand, that we immediately took our fowling-pieces to ramble about. The Tobihanna,[41] over which is the above-mentioned bridge, thirty or forty paces in length,[42] is a pretty considerable stream, and the surrounding scenery is extremely picturesque. It is enclosed in rather high banks, overhung with fine, dark, primeval forests of Canadian pine trees, here called spruce fir, mixed with isolated trees of various kinds, and with a very close underwood of colossal Rhododendron maximum, thicker than a man's arm,[43] whose dense masses of foliage, with their dark green, laurel-like leaves hang down over the water, and are often mixed with the beautiful Kalmia latifolia. Even now, the appearance of this dark thicket on the bank was magnificent; how much more beautiful must it be when in blossom! The black forest of gigantic firs, crowded together, rises in awful gloom, here and there relieved by the light green foliage of other trees. These majestic pine forests have hitherto been visited by only a few settlers, and have escaped the great conflagrations which have deprived the skirts of these wooded mountains of part of their lofty stems. We were charmed with this North American wilderness, where Nature is, indeed, less vigorous, and poorer than in the hot climates, but still has a striking, though very different character of solemn and sublime grandeur. Mr. Bodmer immediately chose a place to sketch the above-mentioned beautiful brook, while the rest of our party strolled through the forest. Old decayed trees, often singularly hollowed, and roots of firs covered with moss, spreading over the surface in all directions, hindered us from penetrating far into this wilderness. A dark, damp shade received us here in the heat of the day, and the three-striped viper, of which there are 40 numbers under the old, decayed trunks, frequently fled as we advanced. Rattlesnakes are said to be less common than in the parts which we had before visited. Birds were not numerous in the deep recesses of these forests; only the hammering of the woodpeckers resounded in the awful wilderness. In places where there was much underwood, very thick stems of rhododendron, often from ten to twenty feet high, formed an intricate, impenetrable thicket. It was now perfectly dark, and we found the most beautiful natural arbours. The Kalmia latifolia, too, grew to the height of eight or ten feet. This country was so wild and attractive that I resolved to stop another day. To the north-east of the solitary dwelling of the Widow Sachs, was a fine beech forest, among the underwood of which pheasants were pretty numerous. We procured some of them, but I could not yet succeed in obtaining a stag or a bear.

On the 28th of August we undertook an excursion to see the bear-trap, in which one of those animals had been caught two or three days before. The man who owned this trap lived on the road between Tonkhanna and the Tobihanna, both of which flow into the Lehigh. He had appointed his house for our rendezvous, where we saw the skin of the bear, lately taken, nailed up against the gable end to dry. The saw-mill of our bear-catcher lay in a rude valley, to the south-west of the road. We came to this saw-mill, in a solitary valley, on the Tonkhanna, which rushes, roaring and foaming over rocks covered with black moss, between old broken pines, in a true primeval wilderness. In this retreat for bears, prickly smilax, brambles, and other thorny plants, tear the strongest hunting dress, and leather alone resists these enemies. At every step we had to clamber over fallen trunks of trees, to the injury of our shins, which were almost always bleeding. We found our guide, who, though it poured of rain, took his rifle, and went before, to lead us to the bear-trap.

The trap was in a place rather bare of thick stems, between young pines, and made of large logs, in such a manner that a young bear might be taken alive in it. It consisted of two round stems lying flat on the ground, between which two others, which are supported by a prop, are made to fit, and fall down when the prop is touched.[44] a is the base on which the two logs, b, rest; c, the two suspended logs, which fall as soon as the bear touches the bait, fixed in e, at the lower end of the rack f. The pole A, A, which is set in the rack f, rests in front on the prop g, and supports in h, by means of a withe, the logs c, c, c, c. When the bear touches the bait, the rack f moves, the pole A, A, becomes free, and lets the logs c, c, c, c, fall, which catch or kill the animal. The whole is covered with green fir boughs when the trap is set, and all the parts must have their bark on. The bear caught here, some days before, was about a year old, so that there was room for him between the logs; and as he was not large, and had entered the trap in front and not from the side, his life was prolonged a little. He was shot in the trap, and his head used as a bait; we took the head away with us, and the owner of the trap substituted a piece of the animal's lungs in its stead.