a war party of Indians from North Carolina," and throughout this
part of the valley there have been repeated and bloody massacres
and constant warfare that had other causes than that of slavery
for their waging.

Under the bright sky of June that was wonderfully clear and deep
lay the charmed landscape before us, with its ever-changing
scenery as we wound among its glorious hills or swept with
varied speed across the fertile plains. The old-fashioned
country homes, quaint and peaceful villages, and variety of
forest clad hills, all made this scene one that shall long be
treasured in memory for the magnificence and grandeur of its
beauty.

Far across the cultivated reaches, the smoothly flowing ridges
printed their faint outlines along the horizon in gray veils,
resembling a far-distant mass of water; nearer, the ranges were
blue-gray while those next to them wore a delicate shade of
ethereal blue. The peaks still nearer were clothed in a misty
veil of deeper blue while high hills ranked themselves on each
side of us with their forests of varying shades of green.
Hemlock and pine made dark green patches interspersed with the
brighter green of maple, tulip, poplar and beech, enlivened with
the frosty blossoms of the chestnut and the creamy tints of the
basswood; then there was the rich green of the meadows, the
silvery bluegreen of the oats fields, and the golden green of
the ripening wheat--all so well blended and harmonized by that
mysterious illuminating veil of blue that it challenged the
admiration of the most critical observer. On such glorious days
as these we seem to imbibe the gladness of the hills. Every