TRAUMFEST ON THE BLUE RIDGE 7 
flooding the place and also the mountains that inclose 
Traumfest as with loving arms. 
The peculiar charm of Traumfest comes from the 
fact that it lies thus open to the east ; it does not have 
to wait for the sun to climb and look in after his first 
morning freshness is dimmed. Its horizon is in reality 
the horizon of the plains. In the dewy morning one 
sees the sky lighten, and then the torch of day flash 
from hill-crest to hill-crest, the tree-tops kindling in 
masses, with night shadows yet intervening. If the 
day is clear, you may look far down the sea of color to 
where there rises as it were an island, long, rounded, 
and pale blue, or maybe the color of mist, and 
scarcely visible against the sky of which it seems a 
part. That faint, sweet island swimming in the mists 
is King's Mountain, where one of the bravest deeds 
in the history of the New World was once done by a 
little band of heroes from these mountains. 
Because of its warm and beautiful location, and 
because the railroad came through that open door of 
the mountains, passing up the valley of the Pacolet 
and over the crest of the Blue Ridge to Asheville, 
Traumfest is not only the largest of the villages on 
the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge, but was among 
the first to become a resort for visitors from all parts 
of the country, here having grown up a friendly 
community representing more than two dozen states. 
Strangers say that Traumfest reminds them of an 
Old World village, with its bright painted houses 
and the little church with its square stone tower, the 
gift of one who lived here and loved the place. Like 
