e Fishkill Mountain with a new foreground or a different framing of
leaves and branches, and each calling aloud to the camera which gorges
itself on trees and rocks and mountains.

[Sidenote: _CLOVE CREEK VALLEY._]

We are in the valley of the Clove Creek, under the shadow of the
Fishkill Mountain, in a hollow where the dusk of evening comes early,
and the gloom and solitude of the shortened day make one readily
understand why travelers of old halted at this north entrance to the
Highlands, rather than run the chance of being overtaken by the dark
in the depths of its loneliness. Cooper could hardly have hit on a
more fitting place for the adventures of the Spy than these woods and
mountains offered.

[Sidenote: _WICCOPEE PASS._]

About four miles south of Fishkill, in Wiccopee Pass, a bronze tablet
by the roadside announces that:--

ON THE HILLS BACK OF THIS STONE STOOD THREE
BATTERIES GUARDING THIS PASS, 1776-1783.

The hills referred to and others in the neighborhood are fifty to one
hundred feet high, and as smoothly rounded and regular as though
moulded in a large-sized tea cup and turned out in little groups,
making one wonder what sort of giant children could have been playing
here. Legend relates that long, long ago, even before the mighty
Manitou ruled, this region was peopled by a great race as tall as the
tall forest trees. They lived on roots and leaves and hunted the great
water rats that dwelt in houses built of mud and sticks in the lake
that filled all the country north of the Highlands. These animals were
fierce fighters, and dangerous even to their giant foes when the
latter were caught at a disadvantage in the water, whither the great
men repaired for frequent bathing.

It was a give-and-take world in those days. The giants would square
accounts at the first opportunity by turning the next rat caught into
funeral baked meat in remembrance of the departed brother, and there
the matter, as well as the rat, ended. But there came a time when a
swarm of the rats surprised a group of bathers, and there were many
desolate firesides that night. Then a great council was called to
decide on a means of revenge, but as they could not swim and boats
were unknown, the concourse was like to break up with nothing
accomplished when a daughter of the tribe arose and suggested breaking
down the barrier which held back the water, thus putting the enemy on
dry land, where he would be helpless. The plan