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
On crossing the state road, the Richland creek road enters a large,
unfenced forest, where nearly every evening, in spring, summer, or fall,
teamsters, who are either farmers or root buyers, encamp for the night.
Their Pennsylvania wagons are like great white-covered scows strangely
mounted on wheels. At night, with the light of camp fires thrown on
them, they are spectral in their whiteness. Often, in the darkness of
the forest, while on our way from the village to our temporary home in
the country, we have suddenly run upon these encampments after their
fires have smouldered, and only been awakened to a knowledge of their
presence by the sharp barking of wakeful dogs.
One particular night, well worth remembering, I was returning on foot
from Waynesville after a late wait there for the irregular evening mail.
It was cloudy and quite dark, even where the state road, which I was
trudging over, runs between open fields. On branching into the Richland
creek road and into the forest just mentioned, the change to still
deeper darkness would have made it difficult for me to avoid stumbling
over the rocks that here and there are scattered on the way, and even to
keep clear of tree boles, if the bright light of a high fire had not
[Illustration: THE MACON HIGHLANDS.]
illuminated the outer margin of the wood. Under a gigantic poplar two
large white wagons were visible, and between them was the fire. A group
of men was seated near it. At my approach two dogs sprang up growling
from the scattered hay where the horses were feeding, but at the warning
yell of some one who was evidently their master, they became quiet
again. The group consisted of four men seated on the end boards taken
from the wagons, and laid on the ground. They were playing cards, and
having a good time. I was about to pass on, but recognizing the face and
voice of one member of the party, I stepped up to them, and was in turn
recognized by him.
“Wal, glad to see you,” said he, dropping the pack of cards he was
dealing, and jumping to his feet.
“Howdy!” exclaimed the others in turn as I spoke to each. “Why, what are
you skulking round the woods so late at night for?” continued the first
speaker.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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