200 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



This is a basin inclosed by an octagonal brick wall, where, for a cen- 

 tury or more, the washing of the plantation and other such matters 

 have been performed. Directly under the oak-tree is a ledge of rock, 

 over which the water is about two feet deep. It grows more shallow 

 toward the " run," where its depth is but a few inches ; the entire 

 basin is about thirteen feet by ten. The above-mentioned ledge of 

 rock forms the roof of a cave-like aperture some eighteen inches high 

 by three or four feet wide, into whose dark recesses the eye cannot 

 penetrate, the bottom sloping away in a northwesterly direction under 

 the hill which sustains the old oak. Schools of minnows frequent the 

 shallow part, and hide in the water-grass ; stir this grass with a cane 

 or stick, and occasionally you may frighten out a small bream or sun- 

 fish, but very few fish of any sort are seen in the shallow basin, and 

 these few refuse the most tempting bait. Now, the proper rock-basin 

 here lies just in front of the cavernous opening, and is some six feet 

 deep, but scarcely four in diameter. Drop your line there, and, if all 

 is quiet, in a moment your float will dart diagonally down under the 

 rock, and you may draw out a yellow-bellied perch, a blue bream, or 

 a sun-perch of half a pound weight. Look in, and you will see huge 

 bass lying with their heads only visible at the opening, or flashing 

 their silvery sides as they turn into its unknown recesses. I once 

 detected a pair of white eyes peering from the grass at the mouth of 

 this cavern, and, dropping my bait just in front of them, was aston- 

 ished at hooking an enormous mud-fish ; this fish must have weighed 

 five pounds, and he carried several yards of tackle right into the 

 bowels of the earth, whence it soon emerged minus hook and lead. 

 The "run" to this basin is not more than three inches deep any- 

 where, and sinks entirely into a quaking bog some hundred yards 

 from its source. No fish over an inch long could swim seventy yards 

 from the basin, and there is no communication whatever with any 

 other water. 



Leaving the "Pooshee Spring," Ave now ride a little to the east of 

 north, and, at the distance of about two miles, we reach " Moore's 

 Fountains," the most remarkable of the gronp. Crossing a little 

 " bay " in the pine-land, you notice under your feet a miniature Natu- 

 ral Bridge, a span of rock about six feet wide covered with earth, and 

 a little hole full of clear water on either side. Walking among the 

 pines about a hundred yards to the right, you reach the " Fountains," 

 six or seven holes in the ground, the largest of which is about five 

 feet by eight, and in general character like the larger basins before 

 described, but much more shallow. All these holes contain large 

 numbers of small perch and bream, which bite readily in the winter, 

 but are hardly worth catching. A little to the right of them used to 

 stand two large twin-pines, and directly between their roots was a 

 hole not more than two feet in diameter, and which you could not 

 detect until you stood on its very edge. (I use the past tense, as the 



