264 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
Waterfalls are a characteristic of this country that 
lies so near the steep walls of the Blue Ridge. In 
whatever direction one may walk, ride, or drive, 
there are the waters leaping down, sometimes in deaf- 
ening volume, sometimes in exquisite veils, or white, 
winding threads, or ethereal fabrics woven of air, 
water, and light, sparkling and gay. Whatever form 
of waterfall one likes best can here be found, for 
these jewels of the landscape are everywhere strung 
on the silver streams that embroider the green robe 
of the Sapphire Country, — and along the water- 
courses and bordering the cascades the smaller rho- 
dodendrons, those the color of a blush rose, hang 
their exquisite flowers over the rocks. 
Among the roads that run in every direction is 
one up Toxaway Mountain, or Great Hogback, as it 
is called on the maps, on whose summit it is worth 
while to spend the night and see the sun rise over one 
of the finest panoramic views in this part of the 
world, there being no near heights to obstruct the 
outlook. But sometimes, instead of rising over a 
world of mountains, the sun shines across a level 
expanse of white cloud out of which as time goes on 
mountain-tops appear one after the other, phantas- 
mal islands in an unearthly sea. As the sun mounts, 
the ineffable abyss of mists, lights, and shadows 
changes and acquires substance, finally resolving 
into far-reaching mountains, green, blue, opaline — 
some of them free of clouds. Others with cloud 
banners floating over them, or soft cloud lakes 
cradled in their hollows. But sometimes the clouds 
