The Writings of John Burroughs

The Writings of John Burroughs

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Title: The Writings of John Burroughs
Author: John Burroughs
Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7441] [This file was first
posted on April 30, 2003]
Edition: 10

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THE WRITINGS OF JOHN BURROUGHS WITH PORTRAITS
AND MANY ILLUSTRATIONS
VOLUME V
PEPACTON
PREFACE
I HAVE all the more pleasure in calling my book after the title of the
first chapter, "Pepacton," because this is the Indian name of my native
stream. In its watershed I was born and passed my youth, and here on
its banks my kindred sleep. Here, also, I have gathered much of the
harvest, poor though it be, that I have put in this and in previous
volumes of my writings.
The term "Pepacton" is said to mean "marriage of the waters;" and with
this significance it suits my purpose well, as this book is also a union of
many currents.
The Pepacton rises in a deep cleft or gorge in the mountains, the
scenery of which is of the wildest and ruggedest character. For a mile
or more there is barely room for the road and the creek at the bottom of
the chasm. On either hand the mountains, interrupted by shelving,
overhanging precipices, rise abruptly to a great height. About half a
century ago a pious Scotch family, just arrived in this country, came
through this gorge. One of the little boys, gazing upon the terrible
desolation of the scene, so unlike in its savage and inhuman aspects
anything he had ever seen at home, nestled close to his mother, and
asked with bated breath, "Mither, is there a God here?"
Yet the Pepacton is a placid current, especially in its upper portions,
where my youth fell; but all its tributaries are swift mountain brooks
fed by springs the best in the world. It drains a high pastoral country

lifted into long, round-backed hills and rugged, wooded ranges by the
subsiding impulse of the Catskill range of mountains, and famous for
its superior dairy and other farm products. It is many long years since,
with the restlessness of youth, I broke away from the old ties amid
those hills; but my heart has always been there, and why should I not
come back and name one of my books for the old stream?
CONTENTS
I. PEPACTON: A SUMMER VOYAGE II. SPRINGS III. AN IDYL
OF THE HONEY-BEE IV. NATURE AND THE POETS. V. NOTES
BY THE WAY VI. FOOTPATHS.... VII. A BUNCH OF HERBS VIII.
WINTER PICTURES INDEX
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FRINGED GENTIAN From a photograph by Herbert W. Gleason THE
ASA GRAY SPRING. From a photograph by Herbert W. Gleason
KINGBIRD From a drawing by L. A. Fuertes RED-WINGED
BLACKBIRD From a photograph by Herbert W. Gleason IN THE
ORCHARD From a drawing by Charles H. Woodbury A MUSKRAT'S
NEST From a photograph by Herbert W. Gleason A FIELD PATH
From a photograph by Clifton Johnson

PEPACTON
I
A SUMMER VOYAGE
WHEN one summer day I bethought me of a voyage down the east or
Pepacton branch of the Delaware, I seemed to want some excuse for the
start, some send-off, some preparation, to give the enterprise genesis
and head. This I found in building my own boat. It was a happy thought.
How else should I have got under way, how else should I have raised
the breeze? The boat-building warmed the blood; it made the germ take;
it whetted my appetite for the voyage. There is nothing like serving an
apprenticeship to fortune, like earning the right to your tools. In most
enterprises the temptation is always to begin too far along; we want to
start where