name of which enhanced the charm of the present scene by calling up
thrilling fancies of the past; for this is the famous Indian war-path
from the hunting-grounds of the interior to the settlements on the
frontier, and may well be the oldest and the most adventure-fraught
thoroughfare in the United States. We could hardly persuade ourselves
that we were not passing through some magnificent old estate--of late,
perhaps, somewhat fallen into neglect--so perfect was the lawn-like
smoothness of the grassy uplands, so rhythmical were the undulations of
the slopes, so majestic the natural avenues of enormous oaks, so
admirable the diversity of hill and dell, knoll and glade, shrubbery
and lawn, forest and park, interspersed with frequent sheets of
water--Blue Pond, rivalling the sky in color; Sandhill Pond, deep set
among high wooded slopes, with picturesque log mill and house; Magnolia
Lake, with its flawless mirror; Crystal, of more than crystal
clearness, with gorgeous sunset memories and sweet recollections of
kindly hospitalities in the two homes which crown its twin heights;
Bedford and Brooklyn Lakes, with log cottages beneath clustering trees;
Minnie Lake, and its great alligator sleeping on a log; starry
Lily-Pad; and Osceola's Punch-bowl, deep enough, and none too large, to
hold the potations of a Worthy; Twin Lakes, scarce divided by the
island in their midst; Double Pond, low sunk in the green forest slope,
a perfect circle bisected by a wooded ridge; Geneva Lake, dotted with
islands and beautiful with shining orange-groves;--always among the
lawns and glades, the forest-slopes and aisles of pines, with sough of
wind and song of bird, and fragrant wild perfumes. Always with bright
"bits" of life between the long, grand silences--a group of men faring
on foot across the pine level; a rosy, bareheaded girl--the only girl
in the place--searching for calves in the dingle, who gave us flowers
and told us the road with the sweet, lingering cadence of the South in
her velvet voice; two men riding by turns the mule that bore their
sacks of corn to mill; two boys carrying a great cross-cut saw along a
sloping lakeside, a noble Newfoundland dog frisking beside them; the
fleet bay horse and erect military figure of our host at Crystal Lake
guiding us among the intricacies of the Lake Colony. Always with sunny
memories of happy hours--gypsy dinners beside golden-watered "branch"
or sapphire lake; the cheery half hour in the log