The Heart of the Alleghanies; or, Western North CarolinaZeigler, Wilbur Gleason
History
The Heart of the Alleghanies; or, Western North Carolina
Zeigler, Wilbur Gleason
Allegheny Mountains; North Carolina -- Description and travel
The heavy thunder of the falls swept through the forest, increasing as I
advanced. The path diverged at one point, and, taking the right hand
trail, by means of the roots of the laurel, I descended a cliff’s face
in cool, dismal shade. At the bottom, I came out on a black ledge of
rock, close to the river. A stupendous fall was before; stern walls of a
rocky cañon, 100 feet high, around me, and a blue sky smiling above. I
climbed a stair-way of moist rocks, and walked along the path on the
cliff’s front to a point directly before the fall’s face. The great
volume of the Linville river, formed from drainage for fifteen miles
back to the water-shed of the Blue Ridge, here at the gap between Jonas’
Ridge and the Linville mountains, has cut asunder a massive wall,
leaving high perpendicular cliffs towering over its surface, and then,
with a tremendous leap, pours its current down through space, fifty
feet, into the bottom of the cañon. It seems to burst from a dark cavern
in the mountain’s center. A pool, sixty feet across, looking like the
surface of a lake with dark waves white-capped, spreads in a circle at
the base of the cliffs. After recovering from the dizziness of its
plunge, the river, leaving the piny walls on either side, rushes along
in view for a short distance, and then disappears around the corner of a
green promontory.
If one, in retracing one’s steps, takes the left hand trail at the point
of divergence, and follows it to the edge of the cliffs, a magnificent
downward view will be obtained, both of the foot of the cataract, and
above, where its waters race in serpentine course, increased in velocity
by the plunges over smaller falls only a few yards up the gorge.
A wilder solitude, a more picturesque confusion of crags, waters,
woods, and mountain heights, can scarcely be found. But even here, man
once fitted for himself a dwelling-place; for plainly visible across the
tops of the trees, was a little cabin on a small, sloping clearing. No
smoke curled upward from its weather-worn roof; its doors had been torn
away and chimney leveled. A few cows pastured before it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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