HEART OF THE SOUTHERN CATSKILLS 57 



We did not find a palace, and a hungry giant, 

 and a princess, etc., at the end of our bean- 

 stalk, but we found a humble roof and the 

 hospitable heart of Mrs. Larkins, which an- 

 swered our purpose better. And we were in the 

 mood, too, to have undertaken an eating bout 

 with any giant Jack ever discovered. 



Of all the retreats I have found amid the 

 Catskills, there is no other that possesses quite 

 so many charms for me as this valley, wherein 

 stands Larkins's humble dwelling; it is so 

 wild, so quiet, and has such superb mountain 

 views. In coming up the valley, you have 

 apparently reached the head of civilization a 

 mile or more lower down; here the rude little 

 houses end, and you turn to the left into the 

 woods. Presently you emerge into a clearing 

 again, and before you rises the rugged and 

 indented crest of Panther Mountain, and near 

 at hand, on a low plateau, rises the humble 

 roof of Larkins, — you get a picture of the 

 Panther and of the homestead at one glance. 

 Above the house hangs a high, bold cliff cov- 

 ered with forest, with a broad fringe of black- 

 ened and blasted treetrunks, where the cack- 

 ling of the great pilated woodpecker may be 

 heard; on the left a dense forest sweeps up to 

 the sharp spruce-covered cone of the Whitten- 

 burg, nearly four thousand feet high, while at 

 the head of the valley rises Slide over all. 

 From a meadow just back of Larkins's barn, a 

 view may be had of all these mountains, while 

 the terraced side of Cross Mountain bounds the 



