Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill

by G. Harvey Ralphson

  CHAPTER XIX

  ON HISTORIC GROUND

  WE were one more night on the road before reaching the ConnecticutRiver.

  "This trip is going to be a great part of the fun," Mr. Norton had toldus, "and the best part of it is that we can go as slowly or as fast aswe please. We'll cross over the mountain to-day, stopping whenever wefeel like it, and go into camp somewhere on the other side. I want tohave you do some of our Scout stunts on the way."

  I don't know which was the most fun, walking along the mountain road,which wound through green woods and across laughing brooks, or pitchingour camp at night and, after a good supper of our own cooking, listeningto Mr. Norton's stories, around the campfire.

  We started bright and early in the morning, carrying only our bows andarrows and Skinny's hatchet. The other things were on the wagon. Mr.Norton drove because we boys wanted to play.

  Skinny was George Washington, making his way through the wilderness. Hecarried the hatchet because he might have to build a raft to get acrossDeerfield River. Benny was bound to be Christopher Gist. Bill had aright to first choice, on account of being corporal, but Benny wanted tobe Gist and Bill didn't care. He said he'd rather be White Thunder,anyhow; it sounded so nice and noisy. Hank said that he'd be the HalfKing, whatever that was.

  "His name was Tanacharisson," said Mr. Norton. "He was a Seneca chief ofgreat note in those days. He was called 'Half King' because he wasn't awhole king. He was under the chief of the Six Nations."

  I don't know what the rest of us were, but I do know that we had a finetime, scouting through the forest and along the road. When we came tothe town of Florida, on top of the mountain, Skinny told us that it wasthe Indian village of Venango, where we'd find the French outposts. Hewanted to surround it, but White Thunder was for pushing on because hewas getting hungry, although it was still quite early in the forenoon.

  So we trudged along, and down the mountain road on the other side, untilwe came to Deerfield River.

  We found a bridge across the river and didn't have to make a raft. Therewasn't water enough to float one over the rocks, anyhow, although therewas more than usual on account of the big rain.

  By night we had left the Florida Mountain far behind. Along in theafternoon of the next day we marched into Deerfield, which is on theConnecticut River. Say, the people came out of their houses to see uspass, with our uniforms on and Skinny in front, swinging his rope andhatchet.

  "This is historic ground," Mr. Norton told us. "At the campfire to-nightwe'll have a story of some fights with Indians which were the realthing. They ought to make your hair stand on end. That stream over theregot its name 'Bloody Brook' from one of those fights."

  We camped that night on the bank of Connecticut River, and it seemed along way from home.

  "This river was discovered by the Dutch," said Mr. Norton, after we hadeaten a big supper and were lying on the river bank in the twilight ofthe evening, tired and happy. "The permanent settlements, however, weremade by the English. The river was explored by a Hollander six yearsbefore Gabriel's English ancestors came over in the _Mayflower_. Thefirst English settlements, you know, were made along the Atlantic coast.Some years later a few of those settlers hiked over to the ConnecticutValley, or came up the river, and started a number of towns. One of themwas Deerfield.

  "It is hard for us to imagine this fertile and cultivated valley in awild state, with a few white settlers here and there surrounded byIndians. The whites considered themselves a superior race and probablyshowed it by their actions. Gradually the savages, who at first had beenkind, grew more sullen and dangerous. This growing hatred on the part ofthe Indians made it very difficult for the settlers, but there wasanother thing which made it harder. In Europe, two great nations,England and France, were in almost constant warfare, and each wasstriving to get the better of the other in the settlement and possessionof America.

  "There were some early Indian wars, with which the French did not haveanything to do, but they had much to do with the later wars and attacksby Indians. One of those early struggles is known as King Philip's war,named after a wily Indian chief. It occurred just one hundred yearsbefore the Revolution, where our patrol leader lost his ancestor. Evenat that early day there were one hundred and twenty-five people inDeerfield. In that war the Indians attacked the town twice."

  "Was that what made the brook bloody?" asked Benny.

  "No. The bloody event which gave the brook its name happened during thesame war but not during an attack on the town itself. September 18,1675, I believe, was the date. A company of young men, commanded byCaptain Lothrup, marched out of the town and along a road leading towardthe brook. They were acting as guard and teamsters for a number ofloaded carts, which were being taken to some settler's home. It was abeautiful day and everything seemed as peaceful as it does now. All werehappy and there was no thought of danger. Some had even placed theirguns in the carts and were walking unarmed.

  "At the brook a band of Indian warriors lay in ambush, waiting. On camethe young men, laughing and whistling and chatting with one another.They stopped occasionally to gather some wild grapes, which grew alongthe way. Concealed in the long grass, on each side of the road, lay thepainted savages, motionless and unseen. Their eyes gleamed with hatredand exultation as they watched their victims approach. Their eager handstightly grasped their weapons. Impatient for the slaughter to begin,they awaited the signal."

  "Great snakes!" whispered Bill.

  "Snakes is the word. Like snakes in the grass they lay, as silent as thegrave. At last the signal was given. With fierce cries they sprang uponthe surprised whites, and the little brook ran red with blood.Sixty-four men in all, from the various settlements, were killed thatday. Of seventeen young men, who went out from Deerfield that morning,not one returned.

  "Too late, another company of men came to the rescue. They found nobodyleft to rescue. The Indians then were plundering the wagons. The savagesoutnumbered the rescuing party ten to one, but the little band did nothesitate. They fought desperately for five or six hours. They wereunable to drive the savages away, however, and were just going toretreat, when some soldiers from Northampton, down the river, appearedand put the Indians to flight. There was sadness in Deerfield that day."

  "I don't believe I want to play Indian any more," said Benny, drawingcloser to the fire and looking around as if he might see some savageshiding in the grass. It made us all feel scary.

  "We hardly can imagine it now," Mr. Norton went on, "after more than twohundred years. Later there were other wars and many attacks by Indians.The Deerfield people built a stockaded fort, into which all would run atthe first alarm. These later attacks by the savages were a part of thefight between England and France for the possession of America. TheFrench induced the Indians to help them drive the English out, butEnglishmen do not drive worth a cent, and at last, as you know, Francewas obliged to give up Canada to England, in whose possession it hasremained ever since.

  "First came King William's war, in which Deerfield was attacked severaltimes; then Queen Anne's war, and during that the town was captured anda great part of it burned."

  "Tell us about that," I said.

  "War is always a terrible thing, but in those days it seems to have beenmore than usually savage and cruel. Take the capture of Deerfield, forexample. The French commander in Canada sent three hundred soldiers tobutcher the people in this little town, in order to make himself solidwith some Indians. The attack occurred a little before daybreak, andsome terrible scenes were enacted. I'll show you an old door up inMemorial Hall to-morrow, which went through that fight. It was so solidthat they could not break it down. You will see where a hole was cutthrough it with axes and bullets.

  "That massacre occurred February 29, 1704, about two hundred years ago.Then came other French and Indian conflicts, until finally Englandtriumphed. Later the United States Nation was born, and PresidentJefferson bought all of the American territory that France had left.

  "Everything is
peaceful here now, but think how you would feel, to knowthat you might be surrounded by savages, fierce and bloodthirsty,creeping toward you in the darkness, without a sound, until near enoughto strike, and then----"

  All of a sudden there came some awful yells and whoops that made ourblood run cold, and a crashing in the bushes that sounded as if allkinds of Indians were after us.

  We jumped to our feet and looked, even Mr. Norton. Benny grabbed tighthold of my hand, and I could see Skinny feeling around in the grass forhis hatchet.

  Then it came again, nearer than before, only worse and over to oneside. It was awful. I don't know about Mr. Norton, but the rest of uswere just going to run, when the yell ended with three caws, like a crowin the Bellows Pipe at home.

  "Shucks!" said Skinny, in disgust. "It's only Bill Wilson!"

  We camped there on the river bank nearly a week and never had more funin our lives, boating, fishing, swimming, doing Scout stunts and playingScout games, and, with it all, eating our heads off, almost.

  I can't remember every little thing that we did there, and the boys saythat it will be all right to skip that part in writing this history.There didn't anything much happen, anyhow, although Mrs. Wade was suresome of us would get drowned and even Ma told us that she would not feelreal easy in her mind until we were at home again.

  "We'll go a little earlier than we intended," said Mr. Norton, when itwas getting near the time for going back. "I want to see some more ofthat beautiful Deerfield valley, before the river leaves the mountains.Perhaps we might do a little exploring on our own account."

  We came in sight of Florida Mountain on our homeward trip, not far fromHoosac Tunnel. The longest part was behind us, but the hardest part, theclimb over the mountain, was ahead.

  Wild? Say, if you want to see a wild country, follow Deerfield River asit fights its way down from Vermont, until finally it breaks through themountains and runs off to join the Connecticut. When you get in amongthose mountains you will think that you are Christopher Columbusdiscovering America.

  "The Rockies are higher," said Skinny, when we had stopped to rest andlook around a little. "I read it in a book. Besides, Mr. Norton told usabout Lewis and Clark climbing over them. But these are some mountainsall right; believe me."

  That was what we all thought. They were all tumbled and jumbled togetherin a topsy-turvy way, with the river winding around in every direction,trying to get through, and the railroad following the river.

  Mr. Norton pointed it out to us and stood there with his hat in hishand, looking. His eyes were shining, and red was coming into hischeeks, as if he was seeing something which we boys couldn't see at all.And maybe he was, for I have noticed that grown folks sometimes can'tsee and hear the things which we boys see and hear; at any rate, not inthe same way.

  "What does it make you think of?" he asked each of us.

  Benny's answer was the best of all.

  "There was once a baseball nine made up of real giants," said he. "Theywere so big that their heads reached clear up into the sky. One day whenthey were practising they lost the ball and so they picked up these 'eremountains and began to throw them to each other, playing catch. Everyonce in a while some guy would muff the ball, I mean the mountain. Thenhe would let it lie where it had fallen and pick up another. That is whythey are all tumbled together every which way."

  "That's so," I said. "You can see where the dirt jarred off when theyfell, leaving the bare rocks sticking out in a lot of places."

  "It's alive, boys," said Bill, who had been feeling of Benny's head andlooking anxious. "It feels like a nut, but it ain't cracked."

  "Benny has given us a good description and something to think about,"said Mr. Norton. "I don't believe that I should like to live here allthe time, but I should enjoy staying a week and drinking in all thisbeauty. Talk about music! Hear the mountain breeze in the treetops. Whatdoes it remind you of, Gabriel?"

  "It sounds to me exactly like beefsteak frying," Skinny told him, "andit makes me hungry. Let's have some eats."

  "All right," said Mr. Norton, laughing to himself. "Now that you mentionit, I believe that I can detect a faint resemblance. We can't give youbeefsteak, but there is some bacon left and that ought to make much thesame kind of noise. Whose turn is it to cook?"

  "It's mine," Hank told him.

  "Well, get busy, and for fear that we might disturb you, we'll go offsomewhere and sit in the shade."

  We were all as hungry as wolves when Hank at last called us to dinnerand it tasted fine, although my piece was burnt a little.

  "I don't know how you boys feel about it," said Mr. Norton, after thedishes had been washed and put away, "but I should like to camp here fora couple of days. We'll do just as you say, however. Perhaps you havehad enough."

  We all had been thinking the same thing and told him so.

  "All right. We'll find a good place for our tents and go into camp. Itwill give us a chance to wash out some clothes in the river and toexplore this delightful wilderness."

  We had all kinds of fun practising our Scout stunts, exploring, playingIndian, and things like that. One of the prettiest places that we foundwas a ravine, where two cascades, twins, tumbled over rocky ledges; thencame together and raced down the mountain. I don't mean that they wereas pretty as Peck's Falls, above our cave. They don't make any finerplaces than that, only, of course, Niagara Falls are bigger. But theywere worth looking at, just the same.

  I am going to put down just how to get there, in case somebody shouldwant to see them. You probably wouldn't walk over the mountain, as wedid, because it takes so much time, but would go through Hoosac Tunnel.After you have gone through from the North Adams side and the trainstops to take off the electric engine and put a steam one on, get offand walk back to the mouth of the tunnel. Then, when you have come tothe mountain, climb up a sort of path, following the brook, and after alittle you will come to the twin cascades. We thought of camping thereat first, but couldn't find any good place for our tents.

  Except for the train passing and the engineer leaning out of the cabwindow, we seemed out of the world, although we were not more than tenmiles from home, in a straight line. The train was like company, andwhen we were around near we always watched it out of sight.

  That is a queer little railroad which comes down from Wilmington andReadsboro, Vermont, as far as Hoosac Tunnel station. Mr. Norton told usall about it. It is what they call a narrow gauge railroad. That meansthat the rails are closer together than on most railroads, and on thataccount regular cars cannot run on it. Its rails are three and a halffeet apart, while on a regular railroad they are four feet, eight andone-half inches apart. It runs along one bank of Deerfield River, a fewfeet above the water. The river is mostly stones in summer, with waterin between.

  The day after we camped there Skinny, Bill, Benny, Hank, and I sat on abig stone, opposite our camp, waiting to see the train go by. The otherboys had gone with Mr. Norton part way up the mountain, looking forberries for our supper.

  Pretty soon the train came in sight from toward Readsboro, fifteen milesnorth, and it was swinging along at good speed, for it was downhill.

  We cheered and waved our hats as it went by. I noticed a girl, who wassitting at one of the windows in the passenger car, give a look ofsurprise when she saw us; then she leaned far out and waved herhandkerchief. It wasn't anybody that I knew, but when Skinny saw her hejumped to his feet and let out a yell. And what he said was:

  "Mary!"

  It surprised us some. You may not believe it, but the girl was MaryRichmond, the one Skinny walked down the mountain with, that time helassoed the bear, when he was doing his hike to Savoy and back. She hadbeen up to Readsboro with her mother, visiting.

  "Come on," said he, starting on a run. "She'll have to change cars atHoosac Tunnel station."

  "Aw, what's the use?" said Bill. "We don't know her."

  At that instant, while we stood there watching, we saw the engine give asudden lurch and then go bumping over the ties.
In another moment itstruck a rock or something and, with an awful crash, the whole trainwent off the embankment into the river below.