The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1850-12-14
It,s ieseuharp.
For The Cecil Wing.
DON OL A s Il A
A Legend Of Big Elk.

| grey TOCk, KNOW i'll DIS 1 llc lHuidIi lNOCh.
| visited it last ON bright summer day,
when the birds were singing in the tall
trees that overhang it, and the waters at
its base were cleaning in the sunlight.
| The golden oriole was loud in its chat
terings as it flew to and from its swing
ing nest, which hung on the tip of a
long sycamore limb, the towhe bunting
piped its cheerful 'cheruiag' among the
underground below, and the ground
squirrel, with shrill chirrup, sprung to
its hiding place at my unwelcome ap-
proach. The old grey rock was cover
cd thickly with the MOSES of centuries,
wild vines were clinging to it here and
there, and reaching out and taking hold
of the trees that stood near by, and
strange little flowers were peeping out
of the crevices-some snowy white and
some with faint blush of red on their
tiny cheeks.
II was a cool and beautiful place, and
wearied with my long walk from the
town | sat me down in the shadow of
the rock. | was not a stranger there,
for often in the days of my boyhood |
visited the spot, played "hide and go
seek" with my schoolfellows, around the
big rock and the smaller ones that lie
scattered about it, climbed to its summit,
and-with what amongst us was held to
be great daring-crept, with somewhat
of awe, into dark assure which CAPPED
open in its side, and reached far into its
centre where it enlarged into a great
cavity shaped like a chamber. 1t was a
fearful place, that dismal chamber, very
chilly and very dark. Those who en-
tered it, sometimes brought out as tro-
plies of their adventure, bones and ashes,
the only things found on its floor. As
if Jealous Of some sacred trust held in its
bosom, the old rock has since settled,
until the doorway of the chasm is nearly
closed, and that dreary and desolatc
chamber is entered no more.
Many are the legends that hang
around the strange old rock-legends Of
witches, legends of ghosts and legends
in which mortals were the actors-some
of them too fearful to tell. So, sitting
in the shadow of the rock, the memories
of those earlier days and of those old le-
gends with which my youthful fancy
had been fed, came up in my thoughts,
and taking out my note book put down
the story of "OoNoLAsxA," or "IHe
Sparkling Dewdrop'-a bright Indian
girl of days long ago. a century and a
half has elapsed since this beautiful
child of the forest passed from mortal
existence, and the wild story of an adj
venture of her life has come thence by
tradition down to the present. My pen
first does the wrong of tearing it from
its unwritten existence and giving it in
ink to the newspaper reader.
A century and half ago tribe of
Indians had built their wigwams near
where Lancaster city now stands, and
often came down to the tide waters of
the Elk to trade with the fishermen To-
Gated there. The stalwart warriors
came down carrying their bows and
arrows, while upon the women was en-
joined the severer task Of conveying the
skins and furs the tribe had collected,
in packs on their shoulders, to the mar
ket, and of taking back in return the
merchandise thev received in exchange.
From these hard duties, "The Sparkling
Dewdrop," who had shone in the suns of
fourteen summers, though bright enough
and loved enough to receive so beautiful
a name, was not exempt. Many heavy
burden her graceful form bent beneath,
but no complaint escaped her lips.
Often would the rude fishermen, whose
huts stood on the ground on which Elk
ton has since been built, look with pity
on the beautiful Indian maiden, and
deem it sin that her fate was so hard.
And not pity alone was the only feeling
her suferings and her beauty prompted,
for smtten at heart by her charms one
of the fishers resolved to grace his rude
cabin with the fair forest flower. With
the chief her father, he held talk but
the warrior answered "No'-she was
betrothed to a young chieftain of a
friendly tribe and the white man could
not have her.
But NEAL MEREDITH was not the man
to be foiled by simple "No." Crafty,
valiant, desperate, he had escaped from
the civil authorities in Ireland where
he had participated in an instruction,
and had found home in the wilderness
of the western world. With mingled
feelings of disappointment and despera-
ton he saw the object of his wild love
disappear in the forest with her people
on their homeward journey, and he re-
solved that when she next came she
should return no more. He had learn
ed from her that her attachment for him
was as vehement as his for her, and he