ven wider, though sometimes not so tall. White oaks
grow to enormous size. Besides pine, and the trees common generally to
our country, these southern mountain forests are filled with buckeye,
gum, basswood, cucumber, sourwood, persimmon, lynn. The growth is so
heavy that there are few bare rocks or naked cliffs. Even the "bald"
peculiar to the region which is sometimes found on the crown of a
mountain belies its name, for it is covered with grass--not of the
useless sage type either, but an excellent grass on which sheep might
"use" if they chose to climb so high.

The lover of beauty finds delight in these mountains from the first
daintiness of spring on through the glorious blaze of wonder that is
fall in the Blue Ridge. Beginning with the tan fluff of the beeches, the
red flowering of maples, the feathery white blooms of the "sarvis," on
through the redbud's gaiety and the white dogwood's stark purity, all is
loveliness. The enchantment continues in the flame of azaleas, which is
followed by the waxy pink of the laurel and the superb glory of the
rhododendron. These have scarcely vanished before the coves are golden
with the fragrance of grape blossom.

The beauty of the woodland is a paradise for birds. Early in the spring
the spotted thrush wings its way through leafy boughs. The cardinal in
his bright red coat stays the year round. Neither snow nor winter wind
dulls his plumage or stills his song. His mate, in somber green, sings
too, but he, unmindful of southern chivalry, attacks her furiously when
she bursts into song; ornithologists explain that jealousy prompts the
ungallant act. The oriole singing lustily in the spring would seem
conscious of his coat of orange and black. These are the heraldic colors
worn by the servants of Lord Baltimore. The nightingale and the
whippoorwill sing unpretentiously in the quiet of eventide. The
blackbird makes up for his somber dress in good deeds. He destroys
insects on leaf and bark. The eagle still finds a haven of safety in
giant trees and hollowed trunks.

There is neither tarantula nor scorpion to be feared in the Blue Ridge;
the harmless lizard is called scorpion by the mountaineer. Nor are there
large poisonous reptiles. There are snakes of lesser caliber, but only
rattlers and copperheads among them are venomous. The highlander is not
bedeviled by biting ants but there are fleas and flies in abundance
though no mosquitoes, thanks to the absence of stagnant pools a