FOREST AND STREAM. 
93 i 
: June 15, 1907.] 
-- 
few sleepy murmurs we heard the boys stir- 
ng. We found out afterward that the call was 
Jtven by a colored man of size and dignity, 
: horn the boys dubbed “Central,” who assisted 
jy a small yellow boy yclept “Sub-Central,” 
aited on the table, put the tents in order and 
! 'ade himself generally invaluable. Charley, the 
: rok, an affable black and shiny negro, ruled 
i' a tiny log kitchen back of the dining tent. 
We dressed quickly and reached the dining 
nt just as the boys thronged in. Their faces 
j rone from recent ablutions fn the river, and 
leir damp hair was brushed in a way that 
lowed conclusively the absence of a mirror. 
; hey crowded helter skelter on each side of' a 
<ng pine tajole which, stretched slantingly from 
le end to the other of the tent. Alexander, 
| oss as he was called, sat with dignity at the 
! ;ad of the table, while Mason, Sub-Boss, man¬ 
ned the other end. The girls were distributed 
irly on each side between their hosts, and with 
ie aid of Central and Sub-Central, .all were 
ion enjoying the fresh fish, ham and eggs, hot 
)ffee and biscuits with which the table was 
aded. 
There were but three men in camp whose age 
ached the voting limit. These were Boss, Sub- 
pss and Lord Harry. The latter was the guest 
id idol of the camp. He was a short, broad- 
r iouldered fellow, unequalled in muscle and 
hletics, who possessed a smile which took him 
raight into the hearts of all who knew him. 
he rest were boys—healthy, happy-hearted boys 
between the ages of twelve and twenty years, 
i-pss, a tall fellow of brain and muscle, who had 
ade his Ph.D., and who had still his way 
, make in the world, originated the idea of'the 
I mp. Choosing Sub-Boss, another young ed¬ 
ge man, as his assistant, he went vigorously 
work to put his scheme into practice. The 
nip, he eloquently explained to parents and 
lardians, was not only to be a place for healthy 
creation, but one where study under careful 
jtoring would be enforced during certain hours 
the day. His eloquence and earnestness con- 
nced, and when he started for camp fifteen 
>ys went with him. 
After breakfast we thronged out to take a 
ok at the camp, for we newcomers had but a 
| igue idea of its situation. Three tents were 
tched in a hollow square, fronting the river, 
[file the fourth, which was our own, lay back 
the east side of the square. A cluster of 
d trees spread a shadowy coolness over all. 
x hammocks swung comfortably between the 
ees that stood in a clump beside the west 
nt. A tall and slender pole stood at the 
Ige of the group of tents, and from its top 
aved a new flag bearing in vivid letters the 
ords, “Camp Greenbriar.” Across the shining 
( rer a long dark mountain stretched its tower- 
g bulk, while on every side distant peaks thrust 
eir mist-crowned heads into the shimmering 
' ure of the sky. A small diamond-shaped and 
nsely wooded island lay in the middle of the 
j /er in front of the camp, its luxuriant trees 
i ;aming in myriad lights and shades of green 
j the sunlight. On a narrow space cut sheer 
| am the side of the mountain opposite, curved 
] e railroad track, where trains like living, sinu- 
| s things passed constantly, rousing the echoes 
th the scream of their whistles and the rattle 
I wheels. 
Our first morning was spent in mountain 
; mbing, for from the great mountain back of 
a camp one could see far over the country and 
in a definite idea of the locality. We walked 
mile through grassy fields and along a dusty 
ad to the foot of the mountain. Then up we 
imbered, often stopping to rest, for the climb 
is a long and steep one. At the top a level 
; ad of fine white sand ran straight along the 
Ige of the mountain. Here it w r as dim and 
ol, and as we walked under the interlacing 
i anches of the trees it was hard to realize that 
!: were not on level ground. Suddenly a clear 
i ace opened before us, and we stepped out on 
12 very pinnacle of the mountain where the 
ay cliff went sheer down into breathless space, 
r below the river ran a slender band of 
1 arkles, encircling the little island. Field and 
1 ?adow, mountain and valley lay beneath us. 
j ie sunshine lay on the stretches of yellow 
wheat stubble and shimmered across the smooth 
green slope of pasture land, while in the hollows 
the white clouds made shadows of dusky purple. 
In the wide field back of camp the baseball dia¬ 
mond and tennis court shone in the sunlight, and 
through the trees on the river bank we could 
catch a glimpse of a few tiny white specks which 
we knew to be the tents of our camp. At the 
base of a majestic range of mountains nestled 
the little town of Alderson, half on one side of 
the river and half on the other, connected by a 
slender bridge. 
At 4 or 5 o’clock in the afternoon bathing 
suits were donned, and everyone went for a 
swim in the Greenbriar. Those who could not 
swim were few in number, and they bathed near 
the bank. Two of the girls only could swim, and 
leaving a number of the sterner sex to take care 
of their more timorous sisters, they rowed with 
the rest out into the middle of the river and 
dived into its clear depths from the boat. The 
water was not cold, and boys and girls together 
splashed and floated like veritable sea urchins. 
Athletic sports were very popular with the boys, 
and while they were putting the shot or trap¬ 
shooting or playing baseball or tennis, the girls 
looked on with interest and often caused great 
merriment by taking, in their characteristic way, 
a hand in the game. 
After supper everybody crowded into the boats 
and drifted out on the river in the dim twilight. 
Down stream they floated. Softly and swiftly 
the twilight slipped into gray, which faded as 
swiftly into the dusk of night. One by one the 
stars came out and later still the moon spattered 
the river with silver. It seemed natural to sing, 
and from boat to boat the melody floated, and 
swelling into a chorus of fresh young voices. 
The old songs were the favorites, and the river 
rang with the plaintive strains of, “I’ve Been 
Working on the Railroad,” “Suwanee Ribber” 
and “Ole Black Joe.” Afterward all gathered 
around the hammocks and sang and chatted until 
the chaperone broke up the party by putting her 
charges to bed. 
Sunday afternoon a number of antiquated 
vehicles were procured from town, and shortly 
after dinner we started to drive to Blue Sul¬ 
phur Springs, nine miles away. The road wound 
up and down, across mountain and valley and 
between fruitful fields of corn. Blue Sulphur 
itself, a long forgotten resort, seemed to speak 
sadly of its one-time splendor “before the war.” 
The strong sulphur spring bubbled under a small 
edition of a Greek temple, whose once white 
columns had peeled in tatters to the bare red 
brick beneath the stucco. The fine old lawn was 
knee deep in lush grass, but the avenue of great 
trees still held their heads high in state, as if 
attesting to the glory of former days. The hotel 
with its rows of arcades was but crumbling ruins 
through which the scarlet trumpet flower waved 
flauntingly. Here for long years nature had 
reigned supreme, but though she flooded lawn 
and ruin with luxuriant green and vivid splash 
of color, she could not claim it as her own. 
Over it still hung an intangible air of sadness 
and desolation as if the spirits of the once gay 
crowd that frequented it still hovered over their 
accustomed haunts and mourned its downfall. 
Twilight caught us at Blue Sulphur and the 
moon rose as we drove homeward. Sometimes 
the road led high around the side of a moun¬ 
tain, and in the panorama that unfolded before 
our eyes took on an unearthly beauty. Even the 
commonest field seemed clad in mystic light and 
shadow, and over the dark mountains the dis¬ 
tant peaks seemed faint blue mist. In the moon¬ 
light the drive was all too short, and it was with 
a sigh of regret that we reached the camp and 
dismounted from our quaint conveyances back 
of the little log kitchen. But the smell of fry¬ 
ing ham came to our nostrils comfortably, and 
remembering our hunger we cheerfully discussed 
a hot supper. 
On a clear morning when we came to break¬ 
fast we found the boys busy with fishing tackle 
and heard with glee that we were to take an all 
day trip fishing down the Greenbriar tO' Wolf 
Creek, a station four or five miles below us. 
The small boys, dispatched to town to buy bait, 
had returned with their minnow buckets full 
of tiny fish. By n o’clock all preparations were 
completed and the party started, three in the 
smaller boats, and four or five in the larger 
ones. All carried tackle, bait and a substantial 
luncheon. The Greenbriar River is made up of 
long, deep pools divided by tumbling rapids— 
riffles in the native vernacular. These riffles make 
a great show of wickedness as they rush and 
foam over sunken rocks, but to those who know 
them they are harmless. One wrong turn of the 
oar, however, sent the boat high' and dry upon 
a rock, and the boys must jump out in the rush¬ 
ing water and extricate it. Once in the midst 
of a riffle the boat was carried swiftly along by 
the current and the oars used only for steer¬ 
ing. In and out between the swirls of water 
that covered rocks the boat plunged, deftly 
steered by the man in charge, until it slipped 
out of the tumult into a deep still pool, the clear 
water smooth as glass and green with the re¬ 
flection of the overhanging trees. Around the 
rocks where the riffle rushed into a pool, and 
in the pools, the best fishing was found. Here 
we let the boats drift and were soon deep in 
the art so dear to the heart of Izaak Walton. 
When we had run many riffles' safely and had 
fished every pool half way to our destination, 
a goodly string of bass trailed behind each boat 
and we stopped for lunch on the nearest bank, 
under the shade, of a cluster of trees where a 
litle spring bubbled merrily. It was 2 o’clock, 
and with keen appetites we devoured the good 
things we had brought, and afterward rested for 
an hour in the pleasant shade. Then we pushed 
from shore and began to fish again with renewed 
ardor. The river in no place ran straight for 
more than a quarter of a mile. It flowed in 
sweeping curves sometimes around the base of 
a mountain, sometimes between rich fields, now 
widening, now narrowing to tumultuous rapids. 
At every turn new and lovelier vistas stretched 
before our eyes. 
We reached Wolf Creek at 6 o’clock and found 
vehicles waiting to take us back to camp. The 
road was much shorter than the river, and we 
arrived there at 7 o’clock and received a royal 
welcome. The next morning our catch, crisply 
fried, was served for breakfast and eaten with 
due appreciation. 
There is not space to tell of half the events 
and adventures of our stay at camp. The hay 
ride in the moonlight, the many excursions into 
the mountains, and the numerous trips up and 
down the river. On one of these latter occas¬ 
ions, when the journey was up the river, two 
of the boys and an adventurous maiden, while 
shooting the riffles back to camp, turned over 
in one of the strongest of them. / They could 
not right the boat, though the boys tried for an 
hour, while the damsel stood forlornly on the 
rock on which they had come to grief. At last 
in desperation one of them struggled to - the other 
bank, and after walking a mile, succeeded in 
finding a burly negro who good naturedly came 
to his assistance. With his aid they succeeded 
in righting the boat, and though she had a hole 
in her bottom they were nothing daunted, but 
bailing all the way back' with a rusty tomato 
can, landed tired but triumphant, at 4 o’clock 
P. M. They had started at 10, so it was with 
relief that the chaperone welcomed and scolded 
them in the same breath. 
Of the late suppers eaten in the girls’ tent in 
gales of merriment, of the frequent excursions 
into town, where the shopkeepers were kept in 
a perpetual state of surprise by unheard of de¬ 
mands, and of many other incidents, I have not 
space to tell. When the time came for us to 
depart it was hard to tell which was the sadder, 
the girls who were going or the boys left be¬ 
hind. Of one thing, however, both were cer¬ 
tain, and that was the entire success of the visit 
from both points of view. Boss and Sub-Boss 
begged us to stay longer, and each boy offered 
an especial inducement for the continuance of 
our visit. When they found that we could not 
extend our time all of them escorted us to the 
station and stood in a dejected line to see us 
off. 
As the train flashed by camp and we caught 
the last glimpse across the river of the bright 
flag of “Camp Greenbriar,” there was not one 
of us who did not feel a sudden tightening of 
the heart. Ruth Nelson Robins. 
