The Post Road now passes through a fearsome piece of woods, coming out into the open again where the mountain drops quickly to the plain, and we are in the sunshine once more. Looking back at this time of day, about 7 o'clock of an early June evening, one sees a curious effect of sunlight and shadow, against the dark mountain background, the sun outlines with vivid distinctness every tree and bush or stone wall or weed with a silvery halo, and seems to intensify the fresh verdure until all nature swims in green. Soon another of the old mile-stones appears, as usual on the west side of the road, and opposite is a small granite monument which commemorates the graveyard of the soldier dead in the adjoining field, where there are probably more revolutionary dead buried than in any other spot in the State. This neighborhood was a headquarters for part of the army between 1776 and 1783. A step further on is the Wharton House, known to both history and romance. The building was used as army headquarters during the seven years that war raged up and down the Hudson Valley. The names of both Washington and Lafayette are closely associated with its history, and it is also the house referred to in Cooper's "Spy," from which Harvey Birch helps Henry Wharton to escape. Here Enoch Crosby, the real spy, was subjected to a mock trial by the Committee of Safety. Crosby had given information of a band of Tories and allowed himself to be captured with them, was tried with them and, in order to keep up the deception and preserve his usefulness, was remanded to the church-prison with the rest. The Wharton House was erected by the Van Wyck family, and is still in its possession. In a wheat field across the road lies the fallen stump of the "Whipping Post," a monument to the methods of correction used in the Continental army. The next house to the north is said to be constructed of timber taken from one of the old barracks. The road over which we have been traveling was once an Indian trail. Shortly before the French and Indian wars Lord Louden passed through this country, and in order to get his baggage train through, the trail became a road under his direction. [Sidenote: _FISHKILL._] The Fishkill Creek, which scuttles across the level floor of the valley just before one enters the village seems in too much of a hurry to get away from its peaceful surroundings, which are attractive enough to make mortals wish to linger, but which do not stay the brawling stream. Both the mountains and the brook were the Indian Matteawan, the "Council of Good Fur," but the Dutch christened it Vis Kill or Fish Creek, and the more musical native name had to give way.