ted. Some
insist that it was planted by Sir Walter Raleigh himself, but as that
famous knight did not realize his wish to visit his new possessions in
North America, the honor of having planted the vine must revert to
Amadas and Barlowe. It seems to be endowed with perennial youth, and
the harvest from its branches is an annual certainty.

What the early explorers testified as to the abundant supply of grapes
on the Carolina coast, and the propitious conditions existing for the
propagation of the vine, is equally true to-day. The manifest destiny
of North Carolina as the rival of Southern France in the production of
wines seems to be inevitable. The marvel is how it has been so long
delayed after Hariot's special mention of such possibilities. Hariot
was a close observer with a practical mind, and the presence of an
indigenous supply of material to sustain an important industry
suggested to him that the people coming to this grape-laden land might
establish such an industry to their advantage. The delay of the
development of grape-culture in its native home can only be explained
on the theory that when nature boldly invites, man becomes shy. This
indifference to grape-culture is peculiar to America, for in Europe all
the aristocracy who are land-owners, where the climate makes it
possible, are cultivators of the grape, take great pride in their
wines, boast of their rare and fine vintages, and hold the making of
wine as one of the fine arts.

The original Scuppernong has white skin, white pulp, white juice, and
makes a white wine. Other varieties have dark purple skins and yield a
reddish juice which makes a red wine. The dark varieties are said to be
_seedlings_ from the original white variety, and tradition explains the
metamorphosis in this way.

[Illustration: Among the Scuppernongs.--A Modern Vineyard.]

In the magic spring made famous in the legend of The White Doe, after
the blood of Virginia Dare had melted from the silver arrow into the
water of the spring, then the water disappeared. As the legend says:

"Dry became the magic fountain,
Leaving bare the silver arrow."

Then while O-kis-ko looked on in wonderment he saw

"a tiny shoot with leaflets
Pushing upward to the sunlight."

Tradition says that this "tiny shoot with leaflets" was a young
seedling of the Scuppernong which had sprouted in the edge of the
water, and it was not seen by O-kis-ko until all the water had
disapp