They knew that these must come from the camp of the friendly Cherokees, to which their Indian guide, Jack Thompson, was leading them.

Soon a spectacle of wonderful picturesque beauty was opened to their view.
Upon the banks of a beautiful mountain stream there was a wide plateau, carpeted with the renowned blue-grass, as verdant and soft as could be found in any gentleman's park.

There was no underbrush.

The trees were two or three yards from each other, composing a luxuriant overhanging canopy of green leaves, more beautiful than art could possibly create.
Beneath this charming grove, and illumined by the moonshine which, in golden tracery, pierced the foliage, there were six or eight Indian lodges scattered about.
An immense bonfire was crackling and blazing, throwing its rays far and wide through the forest.

Moving around, in various engagements and sports, were about forty men, women, and children, in the fringed, plumed, and brilliantly colored attire of which the Indians were so fond.