The Donder Berg (Thunder Mountain), that rises so grandly at the turn of the river opposite Peekskill village, was so named because of the frequent thunder-storms that gather around its summit in summer. "The captains of the river-craft," says Irving, in his legend of The Storm-Ship, "talk of a little bulbous-bottomed Dutch goblin, in trunk-hose and sugar-loaf hat, with a speaking-trumpet in his hand, which, they say, keeps the Donder Berg. They declare that they have heard him in stormy weather, in the midst of the turmoil, giving orders in Low Dutch for the piping up of a fresh gust of wind, or the rattling off of another thunder-clap. Sometimes he has been seen surrounded by a crew of little imps in broad breeches and short doublets, tumbling head over heels in the rack and mist, and playing a thousand gambols in the air, or buzzing, like a swarm of flies, about Anthony's Nose; and that at such times the hurry-scurry of the storm was always greatest." The romancer tells us that at one time a terrible thunder-gust burst upon a sloop when passing the Donder Berg, and she was in the greatest peril. Her crew saw at the masthead a white sugar-loaf hat, and knowing that it belonged to the goblin of the Donder Berg, dared not climb to get rid of it. The vessel sped swiftly through the Highlands into Newburgh Bay, when the little hat suddenly sprung up, whirled the clouds into a vortex, and hurried them back to the Donder Berg.