he Injun war.
I done found this place a-scoutin' about, and when I got married I kim
yere to settle. The Yankee folks wants to change the name o' the pond
to Summit Lake and one thing or 'nother, but I allays votes square agin
it every time, and allays will. You see, hit don't ought to be changed.
I don't mind the _pond_ part: they mought call it lake ef they think it
sounds better, but Kingsley's it _has_ to be. K-i-n-g-l-e-s-l-e-y:
that, I take it, is the prompt way to spell the name of the man as
named it, and that's the name it has to have. You see hit was this
a-way: Kingsley were a mail-rider--leastways, express--in the _old_
Injun wartime, I dunno how long ago. They was a fort on the pond them
days, over on the south side. Wal, Kingsley were a-comin' down toward
the fort from the no'th when he thort he see an Injun. He looked
behind, and, sure enough, there they was, a-closin' in on him. He
looked ahead agin. Shore's you're bo'hn there was a double row on
'em--better'n a hunderd--on all two sides of the trail. He hadn't a
minit to study, and jist one thing to do, and he done hit. He jist
clapped spurs to his critter and made for the pond. He knowed what they
wanted of him"--confidentially and solemnly: "it were their intention
to ketch him and scalp him alive, you know. Wal, they follered him to
the pond, a-whoopin' and a-yellin' all the way, makin' shore on him.
When he got to the pond he rid right in, the Injuns a'ter him, but his
critter soon began to gin out. When he see that he jist gethered up his
kit and jumped into the water, and swum for dear life. Two mile good
that feller swum, and saved his kit and musket. The Injuns got his
critter, but you never see nothin' so mad as they was to see him git
off that a-way. The soldiers at the fort was a-watchin' all the time.
They run down to meet him: they see he looked kinder foolish as he swum
in, and as soon as he struck the shore he jist flung himself on the
sand, and laid for half an hour athout openin' his eyes or speakin'.
Then he done riz right up and toted his kit to the commander, and axed
to hev the pond named a'ter him. The commander said it mought be so,
and so hit was; and so it _has_ to be, I says, and allays will."

[Illustration: TWIN LAKE.]

It would be impossible to detail the exquisite and varied beauty of the
way between Kingsley's Pond and Ekoniah Scrub. Through the fair
primeval forest we wandered, following the old Alachua Trail, the very