300 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
Not far from the Eagle's Nest Is another outlook, 
to the north this time, whence you get a glimpse of 
the Smokies, and can look off to Craggy and Mount 
Mitchell, while down at your feet lies the picturesque 
little valley of Jonathan's Creek; but here, too, the 
eye turns ever to the massive form of one of the 
near Balsam Mountains, big Cataluchee, with its 
wonderful deep colors. 
Walking over a beautiful natural meadow to get a 
full view of Plott's Balsams, you encounter such 
diversions as red columbine, gardens of pink turtle- 
head, fragrant and charming evening primroses, 
fire-pinks, phlox, lilies, and — sourwood, with its 
incomparable fragrance. The Plott Balsams that 
run southwest from here in a short and massive 
range are named from a family early inhabiting this 
region and among whom were several noted hunters. 
The grandfather of the present generation, some of 
whom still live up the wild and picturesque Plott 
Creek, killed a panther where the hotel now stands; 
but a hunter's fame here rested on the number of 
bearskins he could show, to hunt these dangerous 
animals with the primitive weapons of early days 
being well considered the true test of a man's cour- 
age. But though dangerous when brought to bay, 
the brown bears of the mountains are quite harmless 
if let alone. "There has n't a bear In this country 
hurt a man In my memory, or my father's or my 
grandfather's," an elderly man assures you; and a 
hunter then present adds, "A bear ain't goin' to 
hurt a man noway unless he's hemmed, then he'll 
