is hanging at his back.

THE PAINTED ROCK.

BY CHARLES F. POWELL.

The tract of country through which meanders the Tennessee river, for wild,
sublime and picturesque scenery, is scarcely surpassed by any in the
United States. This river was anciently called the Hogohege, and also
Cherokee river: it takes its rise in the mountains of Virginia, in the
thirty-seventh degree of latitude, and pursues a course of one thousand
miles south and south-west nearly to the thirty-fourth degree of latitude,
receiving from both sides large tributary streams. It then changes its
direction to the north, circuitously winding until it mingles with the
waters of the Ohio, sixty miles from its mouth. There is a place near the
summit of the Cumberland mountains, which extends from the great Kenhawa
to the Tennessee, where there is a very remarkable ledge of rocks, thirty
miles in length and nearly two hundred feet high, showing a perpendicular
face to the south-east, which for grandeur and magnificence surpass any
fortification of art in the known world. It has been the modern
hypothesis, that all the upper branches of the Tennessee formerly forced
their way through this stupendous pile.

On the Tennessee, about four hundred and fifty miles from its mouth, and
nearly two hundred above what is called Muscle-Shoals, there is another
ledge of rocks stretching along the shore to the extent of one mile, with
a perpendicular front toward the river, of the most perfect regularity.
This ledge varies in height from thirty to three hundred feet, being much
the highest at the centre, and diminishing at each end into ragged cliffs
of rock and broken land. This variegated surface extends for many miles,
affording a constant succession of fanciful and romantic views. The whole
rocky formation in this vicinity is composed of a light gray lime-stone,
indented with broad dark lines formed by the dripping of the water which
falls from the scanty covering of soil on the top to the deep channel
below. The thin surface of soil sustains a shabby, stinted growth of fir,
oak, and other trees, which seldom grow above the height of tall
shrubbery. From the crevices of the rock also may occasionally be seen a
tree of diminutive dimensions springing out with scarcely a particle of
visible sustenance for its roots. The shrubbery upon the peak of this
acclivity presents a curious appearance as it hangs over the ascent, not
unlike the bushy eye-brows of a sulle