in the reflection that it was "most onaccount- | even a requiescat in pace, and again springing able!" At the Dog-Hole you must again betake yourself to the road, and you will do well to keep therein, until you reach the sprawling shanties of a deserted tannery in the "Upper Clove." These tanneries are numerous in the Catskills; and the business affords employment and bread to very many people. The great abundance of the hemlock, which supplies the necessary bark, gives extraordinary facilities for the labor. In Prattsville, some thirty miles west of the Clove, Colonel Zadoc Pratt has established one of the most extensive tanneries in the land. This feature of the country is not at all calculated to win the love of the hunter of the picturesque. It destroys the beauty of many a fair landscape-discolors the once pure waters-and, what is worse than all, drives the fish from the streams! Think of the sacrilege! The bright-tinted trout offered up upon the ignoble altar of calf-skin, sheep-skin, and cow-skin! It boots nothing to protest against the infamy, or, "O! ye gods and little fishes!" we would summon the venerated shade of our beloved Walton, to share our indignation at the shameful innovation. and stumbling from rock to rock, and from log to log, make our way up the stream. The brook which now comes in from the ravine on the right, is that which we have already followed in our descent from the High Falls-near the Mountain House-to the Clove. We pass it by now, and advance upon the other branch. The rest of our way is as novel and romantic in its continually changing revelations, as it is arduous in achievement. Here is the favorite studio of the many artists, whom the cummer months always bring to the Catskills. Nowhere else do they find, within the same narrow range, so great and rich a field for study. Every step is over noble piles of wellmarked rocks, and among the most grotesque forest fragments; while each successive bend in the brook discloses a new and different cascade. The total absence of a nomenclature prevents any successful attempt to individualize the many fine points here, until we reach the base of the last and highest of the cascades, the Little Falls, to which we have already referred as having excited the jealousy of good Peter Schutt, the Prospero of the "High Falls." Often in these wild glens Let us then pass the falling tanneries without have we looked upward, where "Higher yet the pine-tree hung "Rock upon rock incumbent hung; And torrents down the gullies flung, With Uncle Joe as a guide, and accompanied by two of our friends, we took our first walk up this devious path, resolute in purpose and step as the youth who "bore the banner with the strange device." We sallied forth in high glee on that lovely morn, "with health on every zephyr's wing;" and even Uncle Joe failed to look upon it as "most onaccountable," when one of our party vented his superabundant enthusiasm in a recitation of Mrs. Ellis's verses: "Were I a prince, it is not all The charms of court or crowded hall, And find my home, Sweet scene of peace, no more to roam." 99 upon the comparative charms of Nature, in her truthful sympathy to all their varying prefer- "most onaccount "You should see," said he, as we stood beneath the towering rocks of Little Falls, "you should see those thousand rills, trickling and leaping down so merrily from the summit of the mountain, as they appear in winter, in the shape of glittering icicles a hundred feet in length! You should look upon those waters when bitter frosts have chilled them with their own icy monuments." As our worthy thus discoursed, though in more As we trudged joyously along, our chat fell homely phrase, the fanciful poem of Bryant sug gested by similar scenes at the Mountain House | other extremity, while we were yet vainly awaitCascades, came to our mind: ""Midst greens and shades the Catterskill leaps From cliffs where the wood-flower clings; All summer he moistens his verdant steeps, With the light spray of the mountain springs; And he shakes the woods on the mountain side, When they drip with the rains of autumn tide. "But when in the forest, bare and old, The blast of December calls, He builds in the star-light, clear and cold, 66 From the top of the Little Falls, we have a noble view of the gorge of the Kauterskill, with the distant glimpse of the valley of the Hudson, and the remote plains of Connecticut. 'There," as Miss Martineau writes, "where a blue expanse lies beyond the triple range of hills, are the churches of religious Massachusetts, sending up their Sabbath psalms-praise which we are too high to hear, while God is not." Half a dozen miles onward, we may enter the "Stony Clove," a pass in the western chain of these hills, generally known as the Shandaken Mountains. This gorge had been described to us as one of sublime beauty; so narrow as scarcely to admit of the passage of more than a single file of voyagers; and with such mighty walls as to exclude the faintest beam of sunshine; while ice and snow were to be seen there at all seasons of the year. Our experience afterward corrected this report. Compared with other regions of the Catskills, we thought the Stony Clove extremely monotonous; and indeed we found ourself at the ing a realization of our magnificent expectations. There is a lakelet in this pass from which a certain author once drew a trout weighing five pounds; but in a second edition of his travels he reduced the extraordinary fish-at our particular and most conscientious request-to a tonnage of a pound and a half! Plauterkill, the second of the two great cloves of the Catskills, is entered five miles south of Palenville. It is scarcely less fruitful in the picturesque than is the Kauterskill; while it retains yet more of its native luxuriance and wildness. The hand of man, however, is now busy in its forest haunts-felling the royal tree-obstructing its foaming torrents, and winding the smooth and trodden path through its fastnesses. The stream which makes its rugged way in the gorge of the Plauterskill, falls, in the passage of two miles, no less than twenty-five hundred feet. Its banks rise in colossal mountain walls, towering high in air, and groaning with all their mighty strength, beneath the weight of their dense forests. A monarch among these hills is South Peak, with its crown lifted four thousand feet toward heaven. It is full of remarkable localities, each enwrapt in legendary lore. Not the least lovely of its possessions is a gentle lake, perched in solitude upon its summit. Before we take our leave of those hills, we must go back a while to the Kauterskill, and ascend those giant spurs looking down into its glens-the lofty Round Top and the illustrious High Peak. From these grand elevations the Mountain House and its soaring perch are seen far, far below in the valley. Glorious are the vistas of plain and river opened here and there in the great forests, which shelter you in all your long ascent. When the dawning is auspicious, you may gaze in wonder as upon a vast expanse of ocean, with the surface here and there writhing in mad billows: now it is a frozen sea, with huge heaps of snow-drift, which anon is rent into mighty squadrons of giant icebergs. Magical is the effect of the sunbeams upon this great sea of mist, making it a Proteus in form, and a chameleon in color. Once, after passing an adventurous night with a large and merry party of dames and cavaliers, upon the proudest heights of the High Peak, we watched such a scene as this until the sun, rising high in heaven, bathed farm and cot below in the full effulgence and glory of the day. We can not perhaps better amuse our readers than with some account of this same memorable expedition. To this end we shall venture to draw at pleasure, as we have already done throughout this paper, upon letters and descriptions of the Catskills which we have written for other occasions than the present. Gazing from the window of our little hostelry, in the mountains, one sunny morn in July, as the sound of many wheels struck upon our ears, we beheld a suite of carriages, heavily laden with fair dames and gallant lords, bent, as was evident from their excess of glee and basketry, upon a frolic of some sort. A single glance was sufficient for much mutual recognition between the travelers and ourselves; and as some of the party alighted to greet us, we felt that marching orders for our idle feet had at length arrived. So it fell out and we were speedily enrolled a full private, in the largest and most genial expedition which ever set forth for the conquest of "High Peak." | the electric glare. The bough-house, which we Our troupe was to reach the head of the Clove had fully completed, was soon crowded, in the (the average summit of the mountains) in the carriages, and proceed thence, on foot, six miles to the crest of High Peak, where we were to pass the night. Preceded by our guides, laden with stores, we made a very gallant appearance, not lessened by the orthodox costume of both ladies and gentlemen-the former in a demi-composite Bloomer rig. Through bush and brake, wading in deep mosses and clambering over and under fearful rocks, we merrily urged our way; now and then halting for a general council of travel, by the side of the cool mountain springs. The ladies performed the journey stoutly, until, without let or hindrance from bears, snakes, or panthers, we rested on the crown of the noble peak, upon a grand table-rock covered with mosses of extraordinary length, and of the softest texture. The promised land thus gained, we set about selecting a site for our camp, which we formed under the ledge of our trysting rock. Then what an industrious colony we were, to be sure !-some felling trees for the construction of the castle, others gathering mosses and hemlock sprigs for roofing and bedding, building fires, boiling coffee, and other preparations for the evening meal and the night's repose. All this while a heavy storm, which had been long gathering, threatened momentarily to break upon us, in anger at our bold invasion of cloud-land. Night grew apace, and the newly risen moon hid herself in affright: nearer and louder boomed the deep thunder, and more fiercely and frightfully flashed the lightning, until our huge camp-fires looked dim and pale in vain hope of shelter. The water quickly penetrated its dense roof of leaves, until every devoted noddle served as a rock for the gambols of a mischievous little cascade. It was soon found to rain harder inside than without, those exposed to the full blast of the storm having the heat of the fires as an antidote. Thus passed a long hour, when the storm, wearied with our obstinate resistance, took itself off, with the whole baggage of mist and cloud. The moon again gleamed forth, decking the dripping forest leaves with pearl and diamond. The scene which followed, as one after another emerged from the bower, and gathered around the fires to dry, was grand and solemn in the extreme. The artists of our party made as artists always will-good use of the occasion. Each strove to rival the other in excess of caricature; but no exaggeration could exceed the reality. We had no idea that we possessed so large a stock of dry goods (wet goods we mean), until we beheld the vast array of submerged beaver, dripping broad-cloth, and innundated muslin and linen, steaming on rock and bough. As it was deemed unsafe to sleep after the rain, we were reduced to the necessity of sitting up throughout the night, an alternative which proved, however, to be no great hardship. Each member of the party seemed to feel the necessity of being more than usually amiable, and all discomfort was quickly exorcised by the magic wand of cheerfulness Story and jest and song followed rapidly, and none were permitted to take cold, either physically or mentally, by remaining quiet and unoccupied. Among |