The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1899-12-17
DEPTHS OF THE
DISMAL SWAMP
A WeirdIy Beautiful Region
Little Known to Man.
HAUNT OF BLACK BEAR
THICKETS OF CANE-AzALEA-
SPANISH MosS-LAKE DRUM
MOND.
HAUNT OF BLACK BEAR
YELLOW FLIES, MOSQUE oEs AND SNAKES
The Swamp as a Health Resort. A Hunter
Eden. Over it Also Broods Many
Wild and Ghosty
Legend.
Legend.

For close upon 200 years the vast
water-soaked forest known as the Dis
NAL Swamp has been visited by the
woodman in quest of it's treasures of
cypress and juniper. To facilitate his
enterprise small CANALS locally known
as bitches, have been cut through to
Lake Drummond at its center. OF these
one was named for General Washing
ton, who visited the swamp when a
young man of "A. accomplishing the
whole to use his own words. Another
bears the quantity irrelevant name of
Jericho Ditch. At the end of the last
century larger waterway, the Dismal
Swamp canal, which has been recently
widened and deepened, was excavated
near the eastern border. As a result |
much of the land lying to the eastward |
was drained and is now in cultivation.
A wilderness the Dismal Swamp re- |
mains. Even today its deepest recesses |
are hardly known save to such untamed
denizens as deer and bear and "a peculiar
race Of cattle that has run wild and
lives upon the reeds Not a few people
in quest of game, or curious to know
what a place so weirdly named may be
like, penetrate the swamp from Suffolk
by way of the Jericho canal, or on the
eastern side, through the Dismal Swamp
canal. But away from these recognized
arteries of commerce stretch thousands
upon thousands of acres of dense,
tangled forest, usually covered with
water to a depth of / to 2 feet, I'M
traversed by waterways and untrayer-
sable afoot. In such businesses the
black bear is at home, and he does not
let himself be seen If he can help it.
But in hard winters he is sometimes
driven from his haunts and has been
seen by startled wayfarers even in the
outskirts of Portsmouth
1t was ON a beautiful May day that /
first saw the swamp. Our route that
day was the Jericho canal, which one
reaches, riding or driving, about two
miles from the sleepy old town of
Suffolk. Our craft was a skiff built of
juniper wood and propelled by pole and
paddle. AT first the way lay through
a comparatively open tract, which has
been burned over from time 10 time,
and which, despite the burgeoning green
of such vegetation as had survived the
fires has look unutterably desolate and
forlorn. The trees here are small water
oaks and COW oaks, sweet bay, holly,
cotton gums, short-leaf pine and some
juniper (white CEDAR. Big cane, which the
inhabitants know as reeds, grows every
where, bending its graceful sprays over
the water or with stems standing stiffly
erect. in great clumps. To this bamboo,
more than to any other plant, the vege-
tation of the Dismal and other Southern
The cane was in bloom when we came
into the swamp. and made one think of
the marvels travellers tell concerning
the rare Towering of bamboo in India.
The young stalks, which are used for
making pipe stems. are cut and tied in
sheaves by negroes. who can thus earn
81 a day: Many Towering shrubs were
there, mostly heathworts, but heath
worts with large leaves, hardly to be
recognized by their humble cousins of
the Northern moors and peat Dogs.
Most delightful of all to eye and nose
was a pale pink azaleia, much sought by
country people for the curious green
swelling produced on its leaves by a
certain fungus. These they eat, know
ing them as honeysuclle apples.
As we pursued our lazy way along the
canal the trees became always higher
and the fringing canes more dense. The
woodland voices that had been lifted
high in the early morning sank to a
whisper. The chorused chanting Of the
frogs spring song died away. Now and
then the sweet note of warbler reach
ed the ear. Once a great gray crane rose
into the air with discordant cry. Ever
and anon we would beat up a blue
heron. to see him disappear in fright
down the long arcade before us. Then
we glided into what is known as the
Black Gum Swamp where the straight
columns of the tree trunks lowered
hundred feet or more above us, and the
light was soft as in a cathedral. Two
miles or so we went between the solemn.
hung black gums, and then emerged
rpon the margin Of Lake DrlImmond,
having Travelled 10 miles in some
thing less than four hours. Naturally,
everyone who has read Moore's poem,
saThe Lake of the Dismal Swamp" re-
calls it to mind when he sights Lake
D1-urnnlond for the first time. And
even when seen in the full tide of noon
day there is something Of weirdness in
the look of this forest-bordered sheet of
water. Involuntarily ones eyes go
searching for that mysterious maid who
has
Gone to the lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where all night long by "A FREELY lamp,
She paddles her white canoe
That the Irish poet wrote of the Dis
mai Swamp with all the authority or
actual experience witness the lines:
His path was rugged and sore,
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds,
Through many fen where the serpent
feeds,
Mans foot never trod before.
But to descend from the poets flight
Of imagination to the details Of prosaic