The Gavelyte, January 1911

The Gavelyte. VOL. VI. JANUARY 1911. NO. 1. A Fifteen Mile Walk in the Cumberlands. BY HOWARD MCGAFFICK '12. The crisp morning air was filled with flying particles of frost while the sun made it appear like myriads of diamonds as I stepped onto the porch of the rude building which serves as a hotel in the little village of Tallega. It was a new world to me. The towering mountains whose tops, covered with fir and pine, were twinkling in the sunlight like the jeweled crown of a king. The keen frosty air brought a tingling in one's fingers and I began to feel like it might be a bigger undertaking than I had anticipated before those fifteen long weary miles were covered, leading over precipitous passes across river and creeks by the score; and yet it was all so beautiful and majestic that it seemed to fill one with new vigor and life. As I started up the valley along the mountain road, which was but little better than a trail, the true beauty of the mountain country began to assert itself. The stillness was intense, but was suddenly broken by the whistle of a train as it sped down the n r. rrow valley and whose roar reverberated among the rocks until it was almost deafening. In about one-half an hour I came to the valley of the Kentucky River, and it was only about five minutes walk along the banks of that beautiful 1 stream until I came to the ferry. There was no one there, and it was some time before I found anyone to "Set me over" (as the mountaineers say), and when I did, it was in a flat bottomed boat propelled by means of a pole, while one was in con– stant danger of being thrown into the icy waters. After crossing, I set out up· the old tramway by which the great Meadow Creek Lumber Co. brought their lumber down to the R. R. which is now consider– - ably grown over by wild vines. The road soon led into the very heart of the mountains. On each side of the narrow valleys rose the frowning cliffs, wpile here and there fields of corn and pasture land extended far up the mountain side, so steep that one would scarcely believe that cattle could stand on it, much less that men could work the corn, which is their staple crop. But work it they did. Now and then teams. of oxen would be seen slowly wending their way along the creek beds, (which serve as roads) followed by the mountaineer who heralded his approach by his loud cries at the oxen but used language which one scarcely ever sees in print. While walking along one of these valleys I heard children shouting. Anxious to see what the excitement might be, I hastened my steps, and the sight which