final
"hurrah" on its own account before losing its identity in the welcoming
waters of the Potomac. Hemming it in to the right--the east--and
shutting out the crimson dawn are the massive bulwarks of the Loudon
Heights climbing towards the changing heavens. Westward, less bold and
jagged, but still a mighty barrier in almost any other companionship,
are the sister heights of Bolivar, scarred and seamed with earth-work
and rifle-pit, and bristling with _abattis_ and battery. Down the
intervening valley plunges the Shenandoah and winds the macadam of the
highway, its dust subdued for the time being; while, straight away to
the front, mist-wreathed at their base from the sleeping waters of the
winding canal, cloud-capped at their lofty summit from the bank of vapor
that hovers along the entire range, rock-ribbed, precipitous,
magnificent in silent, stubborn strength, the towering heights of
Maryland span the scene from east to west, and stand superb, the
background to the picture. All as yet is sombre in tone, black, dark
green, and brown and gray. The mist hangs heavy over everything, and the
twinkle of an occasional camp-fire is but the sodden glow of ember
whose life is long since burned out. But, see! Through the deep, jagged
rift where runs the Potomac, along the rock-bound gorge through which in
ages past the torrent burst its way, there creeps a host of tiny shafts
of color--the skirmishers, the _eclaireurs_, of the irresistible array
of which they form but the foremost line--the coming army of the God of
Day. Here behind the frowning Loudon no such light troops venture; but,
skilled riders as they are,

"Spurring the winds of the morning,"

they pour through the rocky gap, and now they find their lodgment on
every salient of the grim old wall beyond the broad Potomac. Here,
there, everywhere along the southern face are glinting shafts or points
on rocks or ridge. Seam and shadow take on a purplish tinge. The hanging
mass of cloud beams with answering smile upon its earthward face as gold
and crimson and royal purple mantle the billowy cheeks. Now the rocks
light up with warmer glow, and long, horizontal shadows are thrown
across the hoary curtain, and slowly the gorgeous cloud-crests lift away
and more and more the heights come gleaming into view. Now there are
breaks and caverns here and there through the shifting vapors, and
hurried little glimpses of the cliffs beyond, and these cloud-caves grow
and widen,