Like An Independent Russet Leaf, With A Will Of Its
Own, Rustling Whither It Could; Now Under The Fence, Now
Over it,
now peeping at the voyageurs through a crack with only its tail
visible, now at its lunch deep
In the toothsome kernel, and now a
rod off playing at hide-and-seek, with the nut stowed away in its
chops, where were half a dozen more besides, extending its cheeks
to a ludicrous breadth, - as if it were devising through what safe
valve of frisk or somerset to let its superfluous life escape;
the stream passing harmlessly off, even while it sits, in
constant electric flashes through its tail. And now with a
chuckling squeak it dives into the root of a hazel, and we see no
more of it. Or the larger red squirrel or chickaree, sometimes
called the Hudson Bay squirrel (_Scriurus Hudsonius_), gave
warning of our approach by that peculiar alarum of his, like the
winding up of some strong clock, in the top of a pine-tree, and
dodged behind its stem, or leaped from tree to tree with such
caution and adroitness, as if much depended on the fidelity of
his scout, running along the white-pine boughs sometimes twenty
rods by our side, with such speed, and by such unerring routes,
as if it were some well-worn familiar path to him; and presently,
when we have passed, he returns to his work of cutting off the
pine-cones, and letting them fall to the ground.
We passed Cromwell's Falls, the first we met with on this river,
this forenoon, by means of locks, without using our wheels.
These falls are the Nesenkeag of the Indians. Great Nesenkeag
Stream comes in on the right just above, and Little Nesenkeag
some distance below, both in Litchfield. We read in the
Gazetteer, under the head of Merrimack, that "The first house in
this town was erected on the margin of the river [soon after
1665] for a house of traffic with the Indians. For some time one
Cromwell carried on a lucrative trade with them, weighing their
furs with his foot, till, enraged at his supposed or real
deception, they formed the resolution to murder him. This
intention being communicated to Cromwell, he buried his wealth
and made his escape. Within a few hours after his flight, a
party of the Penacook tribe arrived, and, not finding the object
of their resentment, burnt his habitation." Upon the top of the
high bank here, close to the river, was still to be seen his
cellar, now overgrown with trees. It was a convenient spot for
such a traffic, at the foot of the first falls above the
settlements, and commanding a pleasant view up the river, where
he could see the Indians coming down with their furs. The
lock-man told us that his shovel and tongs had been ploughed up
here, and also a stone with his name on it. But we will not
vouch for the truth of this story.
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