Chapter 18

A VISIT TO THE "PENNSYLVANIA PALISADES," AS THE "NARROWS" OF THE DELAWARE RIVER ARE CALLED.

All hailed with delight Aunt Sarah's proposal that the Schmidt and Landis families, on the Fourth of July, drive over to the Narrows, visit Aunt Sarah's old home at Nockamixon, and see the "Ringing Rocks" and "High Falls," situated a short distance from the rocks, near which place picnics were frequently held. John Landis readily agreed to the proposed plan, saying, "The meadow hay and clover are cut, and I'll not cut the wheat until the fifth day of July."

The third of July was a busy day at both farm houses, preparing savory food of every description with which to fill hampers for the next day's outing. Small Polly Schmidt was so perfectly happy, at the thought of a proposed picnic, she could scarcely contain herself, and as her sister Elizabeth said, "did nothing but get in every one's way." Little Polly, being easily offended, trudged over to the Landis farm to see Mary, with whom she knew she was a great favorite.

The morning of the Fourth dawned bright and clear. Quite early, while the earth was still enveloped in a silvery mist, and on the lattice work of filmy cobwebs, spun over weeds and grass, dewdrops, like tiny diamonds, sparkled and glistened, until dissolved by the sun's warm rays, the gay party left home, for the "Palisades" were quite a distance from the farm, to drive being the only way of reaching the place, unless one boarded the gasoline motorcar, called the "Cornfield Express" by farmers living in the vicinity of Schuggenhaus Township.

There is something indescribably exhilarating about starting for an early drive in the country before sunrise on a bright, clear morning in midsummer, when "the earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, the river and forest, the mountain and plain." Who has not felt the sweet freshness of early morning before "the sunshine is all on the wing" or the birds awaken and begin to chatter and to sing? There is a hush over everything; later is heard the lowing of cattle, the twitter of birds and hum of insect life, proclaiming the birth of the new day. Passing an uncultivated field, overgrown with burdock, wild carrots, mullein, thistle and milk weed, Mary alighted and gathered some of the pods of the latter, inclosing imitation of softest down, which she used later for filling sofa pillows.

"Look at those pretty wild canaries!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "yellow as gold, swinging on the stem of a tall weed."

"Professor Schmidt, can you tell me the name of that weed?" questioned Mary. "I have always admired the plant, with its large leaves and long, drooping racemes of crimson seeds.

"That," replied the Professor, "is a foreign plant, a weed called Equisetum from 'Equi,' a horse, and 'Setum'--tail. The country folk hereabout call it 'Horsetail.' It belongs to the Crptogamous or flowerless plants. There are only four specimens of this plant in America. I, too, have always greatly admired the plant."

The Professor was quite a noted botanist. There were few flowers, plants or weeds of which he was ignorant of the name or medicinal value. Another bird lazily picked seeds from the thistle blossoms. "See," exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "one bird has a spear of grass in its mouth!"

"Yellow star grass," said the Professor, "with which to make a nest. They never mate until the last of June, or first part of July. The tiny, little robbers ate up nearly all my sunflower seeds in the garden last summer."

"Well," replied Mary, "you know, Professor, the birds must have food. They are the farmer's best friend. I hope you don't begrudge them a few sunflower seeds, I love birds. I particularly admire the 'Baltimore Oriole,' with their brilliant, orange-colored plumage; they usually make their appearance simultaneously with the blossoms in the orchard in the south meadow; or so Aunt Sarah tells me. I love to watch them lazily swinging on the high branches of tall trees. On the limb of a pear tree in the orchard one day, I saw firmly fastened, a long, pouch-like nest, woven with rare skill. Securely fastened to the nest by various colored pieces of twine and thread was one of smaller size, like a lean-to added to a house, as if the original nest had been found too small to accommodate the family of young birds when hatched. The oriole possesses a peculiar, sweet, high-whistled trill, similar to this--'La-la-la-la,' which always ends with the rising inflection."

Fritz Schmidt, who had been listening intently to Mary, gravely remarked, "An oriole built a nest on a tall tree outside my bedroom window, and early every morning, before the family arise, I hear it sing over and over again what sounds exactly like 'Lais Die Beevil!' which translated means 'Read your Bible'."

"Even the birds are 'Dutch,' I believe, in Bucks County," said Fritz. "I think these must be German Mennonites, there being quite a settlement of these honest, God-fearing people living on farms at no great distance from our place."

As they drove along the country road, parallel with the Delaware River, just before reaching the Narrows. Mary was greatly attracted by the large quantities of yellow-white "sweet clover," a weed-like plant found along the Delaware River, growing luxuriantly, with tall, waving stems two to four feet high. The clover-like flowers, in long, loose racemes, terminating the branches, were so fragrant that, like the yellow evening primrose, the scent was noticeable long before one perceived the flowers. And, strange to tell, sweet clover was never known to grow in this locality until the seed was washed up on the bank of the river some ten or twelve years previous to the date of my story, when the Delaware River was higher than it was ever before known to be.

"The first place we shall visit," said Aunt Sarah, "will be my grandmother's old home, or rather, the ruins of the old home. It passed out of our family many years ago; doors and windows are missing and walls ready to tumble down. You see that old locust tree against one side the ruined wall of the house?" and with difficulty she broke a branch from the tree saying, "Look, see the sharp, needle-shaped thorns growing on the branch! They were used by me when a child to pin my dolls' dresses together. In those days, pins were too costly to use; and look at that large, flat rock not far distant from the house! At the foot of that rock, when a child of ten, I buried the 'Schild Krote Family' dolls, made from punk (when told I was too big a girl to play with dolls). I shed bitter tears, I remember. Alas! The sorrows of childhood are sometimes deeper than we of maturer years realize."

"Why did you give your family of dolls such an odd name, Aunt Sarah?" questioned Mary.

"I do not remember," replied her Aunt. "Schild Krote is the German name for turtle. I presume the name pleased my childish fancy."

"Suppose we visit my great-great-grandfather's grave in the near-by woods. I think I can locate it, although so many years have passed since I last visited it."

Passing through fields overgrown with high grass, wild flowers and clover, they came to the woods. Surprising to say, scarcely any underbrush was seen, but trees everywhere--stately Lebanon cedars, spruce and spreading hemlock, pin oaks, juniper trees which later would be covered with spicy, aromatic berries; also beech trees. Witch hazel and hazel nut bushes grew in profusion. John Landis cut a large branch from a sassafras tree to make a new spindle on which to wind flax, for Aunt Sarah's old spinning wheel (hers having been broken), remarking as he did so, "My mother always used a branch of sassafras wood, having five, prong-like branches for this purpose, when I was a boy, and she always placed a piece of sassafras root with her dried fruit."

The Professor's wife gathered an armful of yarrow, saying, "This is an excellent tonic and should always be gathered before the flowers bloom. I wonder if there is any boneset growing anywhere around here."

Boneset, a white, flowering, bitter herb, dearly beloved and used by the Professor's wife as one of the commonest home remedies in case of sickness, and equally detested by both Fritz and Pauline.

Mary gathered a bouquet of wild carrot, or "Queen Anne's Lace," with its exquisitely fine, lace-like flowers with pale green-tinted centres. Mary's Uncle could not agree with her in praise of the dainty wild blossoms. He said: "Mary, I consider it the most detested weed with which I am obliged to contend on the farm."

After quite a long, tiresome walk in the hot sun, they discovered the lonely grave, covered with a slab of granite surrounded by a small iron railing and read the almost illegible date--"Seventeen Hundred and Forty." Ralph said, "If he ever sighed for a home in some vast wilderness, his wish is granted." It certainly was a lonely grave in the deep woods, and gave all the members of the party a sad and eerie feeling as they wended their way out into the sunlight again, to the waiting carriages, and were soon driving swiftly along the Narrows, as they have been called from time immemorial by the inhabitants, although I prefer the name of Pennsylvania Palisades, as they are sometimes called.

Said Professor Schmidt: "Numerous tourists visit the Narrows every year. The Narrows are said to resemble somewhat the Palisades on the Hudson. I have seen, the latter and think these greatly resemble them and are quite as interesting and picturesque."

"The name Narrows is derived from the fact that at this place the Delaware River has forced itself through the rocky barrier," continued the Professor, "hedged in on one side by cliffs of perpendicular rock, three hundred feet high, extending some distance along the river, leaving scarcely room at some places for the river and the canal. Some quite rare plants grow here, said to be found in few other localities in the United States. You see the highest flat rock along the Narrows? It is called 'Top Rock' and rises to a height of more than three hundred feet. We shall drive around within a short distance of it; then, after passing a small house, we are obliged to walk across a field of ploughed ground; follow the well-beaten path between trees and undergrowth, and 'Top Rock' is before us. Stepping upon the high ledge of rock projecting out over the road beneath, we discover it may also be reached by following a precipitous path and clinging to bushes and trees, but none of the party venture. Recently the body of a man who had been searching for rare birds' eggs on the side of this self-same rock was found dead on the path below the rocks. What caused his fall is not known. No wonder Aunt Sarah says it makes her dizzy when you boys skip stones across the river while standing on the rock."

The beautiful view of the Delaware River and the scenery on the opposite side was something long to be remembered. While the party were going into raptures over the beautiful sight, Professor Schmidt turned to Mary and remarked: "In those rocks which rise in perpendicular bluffs, several hundred feet above the level of the river, are evidence that prehistoric man may have inhabited the caves in these same walls of rock along the Delaware. From implements and weapons found, it does not require any great effort of imagination to believe the 'Cave Man' dwelt here many centuries ago."

Fritz Schmidt was much interested in his father's conversation, and from that time on called Ralph Jackson Mary's "Cave Man."

Leaving Top Rock, the party wended their way back to the waiting carriages in the road, and drove to the "Ringing or Musical Rocks." They had been informed that their nearest approach to the rocks was to drive into the woods to reach them. Passing a small shanty at the roadside, where a sign informed the passerby that soft drinks were to be obtained, the party dismounted and found, to their surprise, a small pavilion had been erected with bench, table and numerous seats composed of boards laid across logs, where camp meetings had formerly been held. As the large trees furnished shade, and a spring of fresh water was near by, they decided to "strike" camp and have lunch before going farther into the woods.

Aunt Sarah and the Professor's wife spread a snowy cloth over the rough wooden table, quickly unpacked the hampers, and both were soon busily engaged preparing sandwiches of bread, thinly sliced, pink cold ham and ground peanuts, fried chicken and beef omelette; opening jars of home-made pickles, raspberry jam and orange marmalade.

"Oh!" said Pauline, "I'm so hungry for a piece of chocolate cake. Let me help shell the eggs, so we can soon have dinner."

"Here's your fresh spring water," called Fritz, as he joined the party, a tin pail in his hand, "We had such an early breakfast, I'm as hungry as a bear."

The party certainly did full justice to the good things provided with a lavish hand by Frau Schmidt and Aunt Sarah. All were in high spirits. The Professor quoted from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam--

Here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough. A flask of wine, a book of verse and thou, Beside me singing in the wilderness, And wilderness is Paradise enow.

Ralph cast a look at Marry, unnoticed by any one else, as much as to say, "The old tentmaker voiced my sentiments."

After the hampers had been repacked and stowed away in the carriages, they with the horses were left in the shade while the party walked to "High Falls," at no great distance from the camp. "High Falls," a beautiful waterfall about thirty feet high and fifty feet wide, is situated several hundred feet east of the Ringing Rocks. The water, before dashing below, passes over a large, solid, level floor of rock. After gazing at the Falls and picturesque surroundings, they searched through the woods for the Ringing Rocks, a peculiar formation of rocks of irregular shape and size, branching out from a common centre in four directions. The rocks vary in size from a few pounds to several tons in weight. Arriving there, Aunt Sarah said: "Ralph, you will now find use for the hammer which I asked you to bring." Ralph struck different rocks with the hammer, and Fritz Schmidt struck rocks with other pieces of rock, and all gave a peculiar metallic sound, the tones of each being different. The rocks are piled upon each other to an unknown depth, not a particle of earth being found between them, and not a bush or spear of grass to be seen. They occupy a space of about four and a half acres and are a natural curiosity well worth seeing. The young folks scrambled over the rocks for a time, and, having made them ring to their hearts' content, were satisfied to return to camp and supper.

"Not far distant from High Falls," said John Landis, when all were comfortably seated near the table, with a sandwich in hand, "is a place called Roaring Rocks, also a freak of nature. I remember, when a boy, I always went there in the fall of the year, after the first hard frost, to pick persimmons. The water could he distinctly heard running underneath the rocks at a considerable depth."

Ralph Jackson remarked to Aunt Sarah: "I never imagined there were so many interesting, natural features right here in Bucks County."

"Oh, yes," exclaimed the impressible Fritz Schmidt, "we have a few things besides pigs and potatoes."

"Yes, Ralph," said the Professor, "there are still several places of interest you will like to see. 'Stony Garden' is another very interesting freak of nature. It is about two and a half miles from the small town of 'Snitzbachsville,' as Fritz calls the hamlet, and 'tis a wild spot. About an acre is covered with trap rock. The stones are of odd shapes and sizes and appear as if thrown into the forest in the wildest confusion. No earth or vegetation is found about them. 'Tis said the rocks are similar to those found at Fingal's Cave, Ireland, and also at the Palisades on the Hudson, and are not found anywhere else in this section of the country."

"And Ralph," said Fritz, "I want to show you 'Big Rock,' at Avondale, where a party of us boys camped one summer for two weeks. Oh! but I remember the good pies given us by a farmer's wife who sold us milk and eggs, and who lived just across the fields from our camp."

"I think," said John Landis, "it is time we began hitching up our horses and starting for home. We have a long drive before us, and, therefore, must make an early start. Sarah, get the rest of the party together and pack up your traps."

At that moment the Professor came in sight with an armful of ferns, the rich loam adhering to their roots, and said: "I'm sure these will grow." Later he planted them on a shady side of the old farm house at "Five Oaks," where they are growing today. Professor Schmidt, after a diligent search, had found clinging to a rock a fine specimen of "Seedum Rhodiola," which he explained had never been found growing in any locality in the United States except Maine. Little Pauline, with a handful of flowers and weeds, came trotting after Mary, who carried an armful of creeping evergreen called partridge berry, which bears numerous small, bright, scarlet berries later in the season. Ralph walked by her side with a basket filled to overflowing with quantities of small ferns and rock moss, with which to border the edge of the waiter on which Mary intended planting ferns; tree moss or lichens, hepaticas, wild violets, pipsissewa or false wintergreen, with dark green, waxy leaves veined with a lighter shade of green; and wild pink geraniums, the foliage of which is prettier than the pink blossoms seen later, and they grow readily when transplanted.

Aunt Sarah had taught Mary how to make a beautiful little home-made fernery. By planting these all on a large waiter, banking moss around the edges to keep them moist and by planting them early, they would be growing finely when taken by her to the city in the fall of the year--a pleasant reminder of her trip to the "Narrows" of the Delaware River. Frau Schmidt brought up the rear, carrying huge bunches of mint, pennyroyal and the useful herb called "Quaker Bonnet."

Driving home at the close of the day, the twinkling lights in farm house windows they swiftly passed, were hailed with delight by the tired but happy party, knowing that each one brought them nearer home than the one before. To enliven the drowsy members of the party, Fritz Schmidt sang the following to the tune of "My Old Kentucky Home," improvising as he sang:

The moon shines bright on our "old Bucks County home," The meadows with daisies are gay, The song of the whipporwill is borne on the breeze, With the scent of the new mown hay. Oh! the Narrows are great with their high granite peaks, And Ringing Rocks for ages the same; But when daylight fades and we're tired and cold, There's no place like "hame, clear alt hame."

The last lingering rays of the sun idealized the surrounding fields and woods with that wonderful afterglow seen only at the close of day. The saffron moon appeared to rise slowly from behind the distant tree-tops, and rolled on parallel with them, and then ahead, as if to guide them on their way, and the stars twinkled one by one from out the mantle of darkness which slowly enveloped the earth. The trees they swiftly passed, when the moonbeams touched them, assumed gigantic, grotesque shapes in the darkness. Mary quoted from a favorite poem, "The Huskers," by Whittier:

'Till broad and red as when he rose, the sun Sank down at last, And, like a merry guest's farewell, the day In brightness passed.

And lo! as through the western pines, On meadow, stream and pond, Flamed the red radiance of a sky, Set all afire beyond.

Slowly o'er the eastern sea bluffs, A milder glory shone, And the sunset and the moon-rise Were mingled into one!

As thus into the quiet night, The twilight lapsed away, And deeper in the brightening moon The tranquil shadows lay.

From many a brown, old farm house And hamlet without name, Their milking and their home tasks done, The merry huskers came.

"You mean 'The Merry Picknickers Came,'" said Fritz Schmidt, as Mary finished, "and here we are at home. Good night, all."