Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1889-12-12

70 or 80 feet i'll the clear air, bidng
their time until the fierce winds that
sweep these hills shall lay them prone
upon the ground, to return to the
generous earth from which they
sprang. TO me they arc the spec
tres and ghosts Of these regions
skeletons that command my sym
pathy and almost my tears.
WESTMINSTER, S. c., Nov. 2G, 80.
Sir Walter Scott has written of
the IIighlanders and invested them
with a halo of romance and poetry,
and our own Incompatible Bryant
has sung of the hills and dalcs, and
trees and plants, and murmuring
streams, and pictured them so vivid
ly that the imaginative person, even
while the bleak November winds are
bowling around the chimncy-corner,
can sniff The fragrant order of June
flowers, and from a snug place be-
side the blazing logs hear the music
OF brooklcts. Sir Walters High
, landcrs may have, been creatures ap
proximating his language and de-
scriptions, but the lIighlandcrs of the
mountains encircling this beautiful
little town are far different from
those of the great Scotch romanccs.
The llighlandcrs of Oconec county,
as general rule, are unpoetical and
almost without supcrstitions, fur
thcr than lunar Influences upon the
planting of corn and potatoes and
the curing of hog meat. lie meets
all your inquiries which he does not
exactly understand with a switch %
His "u-cns" and "we-uns" and
"you's" are relics of the war, and
the average lowlandcr is not unwill.
ing to hear them, but rather likes it
for change. But the "which" at
every turn of conversation is unbear-
able. The Oconcc Highlander, on
account of the Inconvenience and
discomforts he is willing to endure,
is rather the subject Of the philan-
thropist than OF the poet. Bryant's
descriptions, however, | find not so
far-fctchcd, and his autumnal fan
cics and flights can be realized in
these glorious mountains in all the
fullncss and beauty Of his mclancho-
ly but rich descriptions of Dame
Natures work.
a horseback ride through these
mountains is one of the most OK
hilarating experiences. The loncli-
ness of the ride, the absence of tcle-
graph poles, steam whistles, and the
rumbling of railroad trains-not
even the sight of a cabin for hours
and hours-makc the translation to
another and long-passcd age easy.
Such a ride is productive of re-
trc spcctivc and pcnsive mood, and
ones imagination is apt to revert to
the time when the Iordly Indian
stalkcd these hills and the panther
stcalthily sought his prey among the
wild animals that made these rocks
and cavcrns their dcns. Ones mind,
too, is apt to turn still further back
in the centuries when the mighty
convulsion Of nature occurred that
caused the uphcaval that piled rock
upon rock and the centuries after
wards that it required to shape and
round them into their present vari-
ous forms. The sad requiem of the
moaning trees over the fallen and
dccaying giants that have been up
rooted by the fearful mountain-tor-
nadocs that rcnd and tear from their
beds the rocks themselves are con
stant reminders of our pcrishablc
natures. The gloomy thoughts that
are cngcndcrcd by the shadows Of
these heights and the sunless hol-
lows are, however, often dissipatcd
by the dangers of the dcclivitics and
the uncertainty of the depths Of the
streams that have to be fordcd after
heavy rains and the ever present
solicitudc of being lost in the noun
talns. This last was recently the
Tate OF your correspondent, who af-
ter hours OF wandering was prcpar-
ing to build his fire for the night,
when he was rescued by a mountain
lassic who happened that way, who
with simple but true womanly in
stinct, straightway upon meeting so
unexpected a visitor, began her toilet
as she walked down the mountain
path by raking her hair with an old
fashioned wooden coarse comb with
one hand, while she tlirtcd with her
slat- bonnet in the other.
Yet she was a simple child of ma