History of Western Maryland. J. Thomas Scharf

is not one of the limestone valleys, such as these on the other side of the ridge. It belongs to an older system of rocks, and the only limestone yet discovered within its limits is a small bed situated at the western base of the Catoctin range, on the canal, near the mouth of Catoctin Creek. Viewed from one of the more central spurs at the entrance to some of the gaps leading over the South Mountain, the valley presents a picturesque and highly-attractive scene. Instead of a monotonous trough with nearly level bed, curving at the sides directly from the mountains, a series of bold reliefs appear, varying in proportion and arrangement as one or other side of the Catoctin Creek is observed. At the upper end it forms an acute triangle, and becomes lost in the high spurs which stand in wavy lines to unite the Blue Ridge with the Catoctin. Here the forests cover the principal part of the higher ridges; wave after wave of varying green leads off the perspective, until the distant horizon blends into the universal blue of earth and sky. On the south the beautiful groups of houses composing Middletown, with its white spires standing up in the midst, rise out of the hollow and from behind the hills, like a bird ready to take its flight. Bolivar, Burkittsville, and a dozen other villages and little towns nestle between the rolls of surface, almost buried in the sea of waving grain, or only half disclosed among the belts of tall oaks and other woods which decorate the fields, while still more southward the broad opening valley spreads its wide mouth to receive the Potomac, and becomes lost to view in the spreading channel of the mighty river. North of this valley, but placed at a much higher level, the truly mountain-valleys, but of small size, find a place. The larger and nearer one of these is Harbaugh's. It is situated to the east of the extremity of the former, and is separated from it by a scalloped ridge, or series of knobs, terminating in spurs. These taper acutely on their inner ends, and thereby open a passageway for the streams and roads. It is a diagonal eroded basin, having a northeast by a southwest direction. Its base is only a few hundred feet below the summit of the general high levels of the Catoctin range. It has a length of about seven miles by a width of one mile. In crossing its lower end abrupt spurs appear on both sides. These rise in terrible majesty, loaded with heavy projecting ledges of gray, greenish, and blackish rocks, threatening to fall at any moment from the startling precipices into the road below. The mountains are heavily wooded with numerous varieties of trees, of which the chestnut and oaks predominate. Chestnut-oak is here a fine, abundant, and conspicuous tree. In the gap of Owen's Creek, leading up to this beautiful valley, some of the most romantic scenery in the county is to be found. The Catoctin Mountain is cleft in a sinuous line, broken at intervals by the downfall and erosion of sandstones and slates; huge masses of cracked and pointed rocks slant off at every angle, or form beetling cliffs of enormous size far overhead; wide, open spaces, strewn with fragments of rock and bowlders, appear at frequent intervals, in the midst of which the busy little creek comes tumbling down from the terraces above, broken into foam by striking against the ledges in its way, or pouring in cascades over the sandstones blocking its path. The limpid water of the stream shines like molten silver where the sunlight strikes it in the openings between the trees, and many a moss-covered bank projects from the terraced slopes, where the beech-trees lend their graceful branches to shade the pools in the quiet bayed-out nooks. In the wider openings a few pines lend variety to the woods, groups of hemlock offer a still stronger contrast of fringy foliage in the midst of broad-leaved trees, and the cucumber-magnolia decorates the rich spots on which vines, creepers, and ferns form luxuriant masses of fresh green.

      The purity and coolness of the atmosphere in this region, combined with the moist exhalations from the tangled growths along its basins, offer most refreshing retreats from the heat and dryness of the summer temperature. A considerable part of the valley and adjoining slopes is already occupied by farms of promising fertility, and the deep alluvium of the lower levels is well watered and rich in elements most important to the growth of cereals and grasses. On the very rocky ridges the trees grow far apart in the soil which has accumulated in the cracks and cavities, and from these places the lumbermen and tanners derive ample supplies of wood and bark. Leaving this region and passing towards the east, four other small valleys, running in the same general direction, occupy the deep depressions between the spurs of the Catoctin. These are Eylers, Hampton, and two smaller ones which stretch off for a mile or more in the direction of Pennsylvania. The two former are the larger, and are two miles or more in length by about a half-mile in width. All of them are highly picturesque, and placed in the midst of startling and romantic scenery. They occupy the old cracks in the mountain summits, where the floods and streams of past ages have widened the gaps and ground the slate, sandstone, and epidote rocks into rich alluvial soil. Accordingly, pockets of rich earth along the sides of the ridges, kept in place by ledges and fragments of rock, support copious forests of many kinds of trees, while the trough below receives the richest supply of plant food in the transported sands, clays, and humus, and responds in a vigorous outgrowth of ash, oaks, hickory, maple, tulip-trees, etc., and an endless accompaniment of bushes, plants, vines, ferns, mosses, and lichens. Leaving the valleys of the Catoctin side of the mountain mass, proceeding towards the west, and crossing the upper end of the Middletown Valley, the roads traverse the eastern flank of the Blue Ridge. Rising by steep grades the summit is reached, in the midst of farms growing abundant crops of Indian corn and well supplied with orchards of apples and other fruits. A few straggling peach-trees have attempted to develop in the corners of the fences, but at best have only been able to struggle for existence, and to yield small, unpalatable peaches of uninviting aspect. A high, broad plateau stretches out before the eye at this point, and the view is limited by the forest-covered high knobs, connected with ridges, which form the horizon. After ascending to the top and going beyond the flat cultivated lands, the side of the mountain slopes rather steeply into a lovely, well-tilled basin, known as Mount Zion Valley. The common milk-weed grows in astonishing abundance over the cleared slopes, and showers its silky, plume-like seeds all over the region reached by the drift of the winds.

      A descent of about one hundred and forty feet readies the bed of the valley, in the midst of clover-fields and fertile meadows. This depression, placed so high in the great chain of the South Mountain, is about two and a quarter miles long by three-quarters of a mile wide. The boundary line separating Frederick from Washington County passes along the eastern flank of this valley from north to south, consequently the depression is all in the latter county, although still within the limits of the Blue Ridge Belt. Several fine brooks rise in the bed of the valley, and lend a delightful moisture to the air while contributing to the fertility of the soil and stimulating a most varied growth of valuable timber-trees, such as hickory, oaks, walnuts, and maples. A deep dark soil fills the moist woods, where, in the midst of lichen-covered and fern-set bowlders, a thousand bright flowers, rustic vines and creepers adorn the varied scenery. Wild grapevines grow luxuriantly here in the rich depressions, and yield ample supplies of the native grapes. A great gorge leads out between two high abrupt spurs, traversed by an active stream of limpid water. Crossing this stream a few rods farther on, in a southern direction, the mouth of the gorge is passed and another valley, of character very similar to the last, is reached. Its bed is, however, rather more flat, and the bounding ridges are very steep.

      On the eastern side of this trough, known as the Bull-Tail Valley, away up near the summit, stands the celebrated Raven Rock. It is not black in color, but derives its name from the ravens which made their homes upon it when the country was first occupied. These birds have long since changed their habitations, and have fled away from the face of man by degrees farther west, until not one seems left to represent the species among the ranges of our eastern mountains. The rock is an immense swelling of jointed white Potsdam sandstone, projecting from the flank of the abrupt mountain spur, in the midst of the thin chestnut forest. It has been rounded off by the heavy storms and rains which have driven against its faces and broken off the sharp cliffs of its upper corners. Time has softened the glaring whiteness of the rock, and gray tints have been added by the fringes of ferns and the patches of lichens which have settled in every inequality of its surface. This little valley is scarcely more than three miles long, by a half-mile wide, but it is full of romantic scenery, shady dells, immense craggy rocks of white, gray, green, and black, disposed in the wildest confusion, in the greatly varied forests or woodless gaps. Dogwood and pawpaw are common growths in the lower parts of the basin, and laurel abounds in thickets along the watered hillocks.

      Coal has been dug from a bed of blackish slate in a hillside near the northern end of this valley. It served well for blacksmith's uses, and was