VKCEMBEE SI, 1919.
PAGE FIFE
The Picturesque Lumbee
(
THREE HUNDRED AND SiXTY-rOUR MILES THE DISTANCE OF THIS MARVELOUS WILDERNESS JOUKNEY
How many of those who love to boat
on a “little river” know that the start-
injj ])oint for one of the moat unique and
|»i(it\in‘S(|ue canoeing tripa in the whole
(‘oiiiitry is to be found six miles from
l*i!)(‘]iurst. Uisiii}; in the hif^h Sand Hills
of North (Jaroi'in . forty-four miles above
riiH'lmrst, the Lumbee (Lund)er in geog-
ra]>}iies), Croatan Indian name for beau
tiful water, spreads Southward into the
Little Pee Dee, wliieh in turn flows into
th(‘ Great Pee Dee twenty-uine miles
(Jeorgetowu, South (Carolina, where
the (Jreat P(>e Dee greets its ooean
mother. Tlu* actual distaiu*e between
tliesc two ])oints is three hundred aiul
sixty-four miles.
T!i* Lumbee and Little I’ee De(' are
thi-i'e to ten feet dee]i with a cur
rent fi'oni two to four miles an hour.
Oil «ome of the IhmkIs, or “cow faces,”
t1ie tide water is fjoing faster than this.
These rivers carry open water to the
s(>;! and for streams so wild and little
list'd, are iHMiinrkabl'y free from serious
(il)structions. Tiiere ai’e snags Avhicli
might botlH'r a motor boat when thfe"
stream is low; rarely a jam; a wind fall
now anl then; a tree that some hunter
has feileil in order to get his coon—Afri-
-an ]iork they ('all it—'but that is about
all. A man witli an axe makes (|uiek
work of them. The Lund)ee and Little
P(>e Dee are said to be the only clear
water riv’ers flowing through the Atlantic
V)ast ])lain. They are fed entirely l)y
s])rings that rise in the Sand Hills and
bv creeks tliat have been given the
siuru* kind of start.
For the first part the river Avinds
through a timbei’ groA\-fh which has never
s(>en an axe. Cy])ress twenty feet in cir-
'umfrence and a hundred feet high
stand on the river brink, with pines that
sum up ninety feet to the first limb and
would do as masts for ships that sail'
the world roun(L There are no bank
bushes to obstruct the view, and the
river thirty or forty feet wide and
bold right up to the banks, flowing rapid
ly for many miles through such stately
timber, affords an impressive picture.
In one cypress brake not far beloAV Blue’s
bridge, where the start is made, a colony
of blue heron nest. The parent birds
stand nearly five feet high. At the sound
of voices all these great birds disturbed
by the unaccustomed sight of canoes and
their occupants, begin circling about;
for a modern canoe never passed over this
course until five years ago. Wild turkeys,
hogs, deer, and other game are found in
tlieir chosen localities along tlie river.
Going toward Lumberton the trip on
the river averages three miles by water
to one by land, though there are some
“reaches” l>y water; long straight paths.
Sometimes the river makes a bend or two
miles and you could hand a kiss to the
other fellow’s girl across the narrow
neck of ribbon of Tanl that divides the
stream. Occasionally one comes to huge
cy])ress trees standing in mil-stream.
Thes(‘ trees are called dram trees, for it
is said w’hen raftsmen come to one of
these thy are entitled to a drink of whis
key. On the other hand the^e trees seem
as though on guard and under orders not
to let any pass except those who are
worthy. As one ap])roaches liumberton
he leaves behind the hollv and the mis
tletoe, shot Avith waxen balls, and finds
swaying grac'efully the first sprays of
grey S])anish moss. This moss makes
the approach to the land of flowers and
ease, as contrasted, let us say, with our
N'lrf'cni land of ice and industry, of
our Northern tier of states. Lumberton
is the only considerable town directly on
the river. From this point to the sea the
government has freed the course of snags
and it is safe for the use of motor boats
and launches. Here the river is about
one hundred feet wide. There is a bluff
thirty feet high, five miles below Lumber
ton, where sea shells of great variety
are to be found, which goes to show that
the sandhills, now one hundred miles
back from the sea, were once the osean
shore. Bluffs like this front on the
river every five or ten miles throughout
the course. They make fine camping
grounds. Quail are plenty on the up
lands back of these bluffs. Bathing fa
cilities are afforded on sandy points op
posite the bluffs where the water is al-
Avays deepest. There is no mud in this
region and there are none of the insect
pests to contend with that one encoun
ters in the Northern wildernss. Prin
cess Ann bluff, a feAV miles above the
toAvn of Fairbl'uff, is seventy-fiA'e feet
high and rises in a truly (lueenly mavi’or
aboA'e the surface of the river. With its
natural spring and beautiful groves of
})ines, it affords an ideal spot for the
cam])ei-. i''airl)luff, Avhere one can
easily get supplies, is a pretty, restful
1'jimlet of a few peoi)Te. Six miles beloAv
this point one crosses into South (’aro-
lina, and tA\'enty miles further on, the
Little Pee Dee eni])ties into the Lumbee
and steals aAvav its name, a thing Avhich
it neAUM’ should haA^e been alloAved to do,
if length and size count for anything in
the “right of Avay” of rivers. Not far
beloAV the joining of these Driftwood
Island raises its high crest, from Avhich
there is a A’ieAV up and down stream.
Its slopes are as clean as drifted sa^^d
upon the sea shore. It is a beautiful
ppot.
Ijuteriirj the Great Pee Dee o”e
is borne rap'dlv alou'r on its yel-
loAV Avaters toward Georgetown, twenty-
nine miles aAvay. The poAver of tins
’’’iirbt’’’ riA’er is instant^v felt. There
is no mistaking the force of its eddy
ing swirl. Soon the rice islands in the
delta of the river divide the waters, and
taking either channel one rows along
past plantations on these rich islands,
which once upheld the wealth and chiv
alry of the Southland. The islands are
now the winter home for ducks that fly
in from the sea at nightfall to rest on
sheltered Avaters. With the abolition of
slavery and the discovery later that rice
could be groAvn successfully on the up
lands of Texas, these vast estates have
fallen into disuse, and some of them
liaA'o been abandoned by their once
proud OAvnors. Only the magnitude of
the estate and the beauty of the sur
roundings created about the colonial
boms remain to point the story of the
])ast. Great aA'enues of live oak or Ioav-
land pine trees flank the river front or
mark the apjiroach to halls uoav silent.
These mighty live oaks hung Avith
Spanish moss look like so many masto
dons at attention. Some of them have
a spread of one hundred feet and may be
tAvice that number of years old^ Every
thing is interesting and beautiful'.
Everything points to an age that is gone
neA^er to be reproduced in this country.
The temperature of this sand hill riA'er
region permits of boating and camping
during n’ueh of the time, even in its
“vix vve-'ks' of Avinter, ” the air has a
t oft, rnre uality. The Sand Hills av
erage tAvo Inindred and thirty iays of
inuu'hin'.' 'luring th(> year. Here one has
the chance to boat, hunt, cam]) and fish
in Avinter along one of the most beauti
ful Avaterwavn in this country in the
lenst c!:anged and oldest sections of the
South.
Why not be one of many to live again
summer da;;s.’—Tohii Warr(n Achorvu,