The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV., page 129 by Various Authors
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western mountains Sinks the gold October sun; Longer grow the deepening shadows, And the day is nearly done.
Rosy gleams the quiet River 'Neath the crimson-tinted sky; White-winged vessels, wind-forsaken, On the waveless waters lie.
Glow the autumn-tinted valleys, On the hills soft shadows rest, Growing warmer, purple glowing, As the sun sinks toward the west.
Slanting sunlight through the Cedars, Scarlet Maples all aglow, Long rays streaming through the forests, Gleam the dead leaves lying low.
Golden sunshine on the cornfields, Glittering ripples on the stream. And the still pools in the meadows Catch the soft October gleam.
Warmer grows the purple mountains, Lower sinks the glowing sun, Soon will fade the streaming sunlight-- See, the day is nearly done!
CHAPTER III.
THE COUNTRY
After having been detained in town several days longer than I had reckoned on, by heavy rains, which ran through the streets in rivers, and filled the bed of Sandy Gully, through which we must pass, with a rushing torrent of irresistible strength, a small party of us left Kingston one morning for the mountains of St. Andrew and Metcalfe, among which lie the stations of the American missionaries whom we had come to join. We were mounted on the small horses of the country, whose first appearance excited some doubts in the mind of a friend whether he was to carry the horse or the horse him. However, they are not quite ponies, and their blood is more noble than their size, being a good deal of it Arab. They are decidedly preferable for mountain travel to larger animals.
We directed our course over the hot plains towards the mountains which rose invitingly before us, ready to receive us into their green depths. On leaving the town, we passed first through sandy lanes bordered by cactus hedges, rising in columnar rows, and then came out upon the excellent macadamized road over which thirteen of the s