panthers,
Better hear the wild wolves howling
Than an angry father shouting,
Or reside within the shadow
Of his dark and gloomy presence."

For a hundred years this cabin
Stood beside the Tunxis River,
By the famous Tunxis River,
River nam,ed for Tunxis Indians,
Calm and peaceful Indians dwelling
In their Farmington round houses,
And the term, "The Tunxis River,"
Signifies, in Indian accents,
"Beautiful and rapid river."

19. HIDDEN IN THE GLOOMY FOREST.

And deep within the dreamy wood,
Where the sheltering hemlocks rustled,
Beneath the hill their cabin stood,
Looking out upon the river.
The oak leaves trembled in the breeze,
Slowly rolled the Tunxis River,
And high above the leafy trees,
Flew the woodcock ever circling.

Thus it was that Molly Barber
And her spouse, the Honest Chaugham,
Were the first of all the settlers,
In the town of fair Barkhamsted,
Where her father couldn't find them,
Hidden in the gloomy forest,
Where the Tunxis River wanders
Through the dark and gloomy forest,
With the woodcock ever tapping,
Tapping on the mighty oak trees,
O'er the pine trees ever screaming,
Circling high above the mountain,
And the sea-gulls, fishing, screeching,
Dipping low above the water,
And the great, blue herons wading,
Wading, fishing in the river,
Calling, calling through the twilight.

20. HERE THEY BUILT THEIR LONELY CABIN.

One ford above, one ford below,
Easy crossings of the Tunxis,
For shallow there the water's flow
In the Town of fair Barkhamsted.

Here they built their lonely cabin
In a Paradise of Beauty.
Shaded by a spreading larch tree,
Midst the spring time's rich profusion,
Near the Tunxis winding southward,
Like a pathway through the forest,
With two fords for easy crossing,
Where the leafy boughs are parted
And the slanting rays of sunlight

Glisten on the tiny wavelets
As they dance along the shallows
O'er the pebbles and the boulders.

Here the mountain bending eastward,
Leaves a place for habitation
Midst the rocks and mighty ledges—
"Light-House Flats" beside the river,
On the side of Ragged Mountain,
In the town of fair Barkhamsted.

21. CHILDREN IN THE HILL-SIDE CABIN.

Then one by one the children came,
Eight in all to break the silence,
And each one bore a pale-face name
Hiding not its Indian features.

Here they dwelt while-years rolled onward,
Bringing children to the cabin,
Lonely cabin on the mountain,
Eight, in all the silence breaking
[n the lonely; Light House cabin,

Two were boys with feet so nimble,
Little Solomon and Samuel,
Hallowed names from out the Bible,
Six were girls with smiling faces,
Mary, Mercy, Sally, Polly,
Then came Elizabeth and Hannah.
Blended in each youthful figure
Was the fairness of their mother
With the darker hue of father,
Like a shadow on a lily.
Long and straight and black their hair was,
Like the Narragansett children.

22. TALES OF JAMES' AND MOLLY'S CHILDHOOD.

While hearth flames danced in magic plays,
James and Molly told their children

The stories of their childhood days—
Wethersfield and Narragansett.

Molly told them of her mother,
All the kindness of her mother
And the story of her father,
Of her proud and wealthy father
And her home beside the river
Where the big canoes were floating
On the mighty Central River;
Told them of the early plowing
In the fields beside the river,
And the harvest in the autumn—
All the golden corn and pumpkins.

Told them of the holy Sabbath,—
How in church the people gathered,
Listened to the pastor's sermons,
Prayed to God for his protection.
Taught them all to say "Our Father— "
Ere they closed their eyes in slumber,
Tried to teach them to be Christians,
Even in the lonely forest.

Then she told them of the parties,
With the fiddling and the dancing,
'Till their minds were filled with wonder
As they listened to her stories.

Chaugham told them of his parents
Living in their Indian wigwam
On the confines of Block Island,
Storied "Island of Manisses,"
Rising midst the swinging ocean.
There between the storm-lashed ledges,
With the shifting sand and sea-weed,
Ever drifting all about them
Lie canoe and sailing vessel,
Broken by the wild waves' fury.

Chaugham told them of his boyhood,
Of the fishing in the ocean,
Of the hunting in the forest
And the coming of the white man.
Told them of his Indian father,
All his skill in fishing, hunting.
Told them of the forest dances,
Taught them how to pray to Manito,
How to scare the evil spirits,
Dji-bai, from the fires eternal,
Souls of wicked ones departed
From the pathways of the living
To the fires beneath the mountains,
Fires beneath the smoking mountains,
Where they surfer through the ages,
Coming, back at times in anger,
Seeking vengeance on the living.

Told them of the talking spirits,
Ghosts that wander in the night-time,
Viewing old familiar places;
Ghosts that whisper in the darkness,
Souls of those who once were with us.
Souls of honest, kindly people
Ever absent in the day-time,
Often present in the night-time;
Always peaceful, harmless spirits,
From the Happy Realms of Sunset,
From the wigwams of the Blessed,
Souls of those who have departed
Coming back to scenes deserted,
Seeking old familiar places,
Singing, talking in the darkness,

Told them of the festive dances,
In the autumn in the moonlight,
When the ears of corn were yellow
And they gathered in the harvest.

Taught them how to chant sedately,
When they met along the pathway,
"Hun-da-hun-he; Hun-da-hun-he,"
Peacefully we walk together,
"Hun-da-hun-he; Hun-da-hun-he."

This was friendship's sacred token
Known by all the Narragansetts.

Taught them ancient Indian legends,
Legends of the Narragansetts,
All the mystery of creation,
How the lands and seas were fashioned,
By great Manito, the Mighty,

Little Solomon and Samuel
Learned to dance in wild abandon
Swiftly round the flashing firelight,
Like the Narragansett sannups—
All the children learned the legends
Of the Narragansett people.

With a background partly whiteman,
From the sayings of their mother;
With a background partly Indian,
From the sayings of their father,
Growing up, they roamed the valley,
Traveled often through the township,
Mingled daily with the natives,
Meeting many, making friendships.

23. MARRIAGE IN THE TUNXIS VALLEY.

The yearly seasons rolled along,
Bringing marriage to the hill-side
And daily Molly's gentle song
Soothed her children's children's slumber.

Six were married in the valley,
Binding thus in holy wedlock