Guy Rivers

Rivers: A Tale of Georgia, by
William Gilmore Simms

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Title: Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia
Author: William Gilmore Simms
Release Date: July 15, 2005 [EBook #16303]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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RIVERS: A TALE OF GEORGIA ***

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[Illustration: Frontispiece.]

GUY RIVERS:
A TALE OF GEORGIA.
BY W. GILMORE SIMMS,
AUTHOR OF "THE YEMASSEE," "THE PARTISAN,"
"MELLICHAMPE," "KATHARINE WALTON," "THE SCOUT,"
"WOODCRAFT," ETC.

"Who wants A sequel may read on. Th' unvarnished tale That follows
will supply the place of one."
ROGERS' Italy.

New and Revised Edition.
CHICAGO: DONOHUE, HENNEBERRY & CO. 407-425
DEARBORN STREET
1890

PRINTED AND BOUND BY DONOHUE & HENNEBERRY
CHICAGO.

GUY RIVERS
CHAPTER I.
THE STERILE PROSPECT AND THE LONELY TRAVELLER.
Our scene lies in the upper part of the state of Georgia, a region at this
time fruitful of dispute, as being within the Cherokee territories. The

route to which we now address our attention, lies at nearly equal
distances between the main trunk of the Chatahoochie and that branch
of it which bears the name of the Chestatee, after a once formidable,
but now almost forgotten tribe. Here, the wayfarer finds himself lost in
a long reach of comparatively barren lands. The scene is kept from
monotony, however, by the undulations of the earth, and by frequent
hills which sometimes aspire to a more elevated title. The tract is
garnished with a stunted growth, a dreary and seemingly half-withered
shrubbery, broken occasionally by clumps of slender pines that raise
their green tops abruptly, and as if out of place, against the sky.
The entire aspect of the scene, if not absolutely blasted, wears at least a
gloomy and discouraging expression, which saddens the soul of the
most careless spectator. The ragged ranges of forest, almost untrodden
by civilized man, the thin and feeble undergrowth, the unbroken silence,
the birdless thickets,--all seem to indicate a peculiarly sterile destiny.
One thinks, as he presses forward, that some gloomy Fate finds harbor
in the place. All around, far as the eye may see, it looks in vain for
relief in variety. There still stretch the dreary wastes, the dull woods,
the long sandy tracts, and the rude hills that send out no voices, and
hang out no lights for the encouragement of the civilized man. Such is
the prospect that meets the sad and searching eyes of the wayfarer, as
they dart on every side seeking in vain for solace.
Yet, though thus barren upon the surface to the eye, the dreary region in
which we now find ourselves, is very far from wanting in resources,
such as not only woo the eyes, but win the very soul of civilization. We
are upon the very threshold of the gold country, so famous for its
prolific promise of the precious metal; far exceeding, in the
contemplation of the knowing, the lavish abundance of Mexico and of
Peru, in their palmiest and most prosperous condition. Nor, though only
the frontier and threshold as it were to these swollen treasures, was the
portion of country now under survey, though bleak, sterile, and
uninviting, wanting in attractions of its own. It contained indications
which denoted the fertile regions, nor wanted entirely in the precious
mineral itself. Much gold had been already gathered, with little labor,
and almost upon its surface; and it was perhaps only because of the

limited knowledge then had of its real wealth, and of its close
proximity to a more productive territory, that it had been suffered so
long to remain unexamined.
Nature, thus, in a section of the world seemingly unblessed with her
bounty, and all ungarnished with her fruits and flowers, seemed
desirous of redeeming it from the curse of barrenness, by storing its
bosom with a product, which, only of use to the world in its
conventional necessities, has become, in accordance with the
self-creating wants of society, a necessity itself; and however the bloom
and beauty of her summer decorations may refresh the eye of the
enthusiast, it would here seem that, with an extended policy, she had
planted treasures, for another and a greatly larger class, far more
precious to the eyes of hope and admiration than all the glories and
beauties in her sylvan and picturesque abodes. Her very sterility and
solitude, when thus found to