New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1855-12-28
q Legend Of New England
By JOHN O. WHITTIER.

4
ranged the hills and the forests Of New England
fought against other enemies than the brovn
| bear and the panther The husbandman. aa be
toiled in the plain, or the narrow clearing, kent
closely at his side loaded weapon aud wrought
diligently and firmly in the midst Of peril. The
frequent crack Of the Indians rifle was heard
in the still depths Of the forest-the death-knell
Of the unwary hunter; and, ever and anon, the
fiame of some devoted farm house, whose dneIlers
had been slaughtered by merciless foe, rose
redly upon the darkness of the night time The
Wild, and fierce eyes Of the heather cleaned
through the thick underwood Of the forest, upon
the passing Of the worshippers Of the only true
GOD and the War-whoop rang shrill and loud
under the very walls Of the sanctuary Of prayer
Perhaps no part Of New England affords o
wider field for the researches Of the Legendary.
than that portion Of Massachusetts, Bay, for
merly known as the province Of Maine There
the ferocious Norridgewock held bis stern ceuu-
ellis, and there the tribes of the Penobscot went
forth with song and dance to do battle upon the
white man. There, the romantic and chival-
rons Castine immured himself in the forest soli-
tudes, and there the high-hearted Ralle-the
mild and gifted Jesuit-gathered together the
broken strength of the Norridgewock, and built
up in the great wilderness a temple to the true
God. There, too, he persisted in the dark on
slaught Of the Colonists-peri with many
wounds, at the very foot Of the Gross, which his
own hands had planted. And there the Nor
ridgewocks fell--one after another-in stern and
accomplishing pride--neither asking, NOR Civ
ing quarter, as they resisted the white spoiler
upon the threshold Of their consecrated place Of
orship; and in view Of their wives and their
children.
The following is one among many legends Of
the strange srenconters of the White Man and
tne Indian, which are yet preserved in the
ancient records and traditions of Maine The
dIr NJ .t,1x.
Ii was sultry evening towards the last of
June, 1722, that Capt. Harmon and the Eastern
rangers urged their canoes up the Kennebec
river, in pursuit Of their savage enemies For
hours they toiled diligently at the oar. The last
trace of civilization was left behind, and the
long shadows of the skirting forest met and
blended in the middle Of the broad stream,
which wound darkly through them. At every
sound from the adjacent shores-the rustling
wing of some night bird, or the quick footsteps
of some wild beast--the dash Of the oar was
suspended, and the rangers grasp frightened on
his rifle. All knew the peril of the enterprise;
and that silence, which is natural to men, who
feel themselves in the extreme of jeopardy, set
tied like cloud Upon the midnight adyenturers
" Hush-softly men y said the watchfuI Har-
mon, IN voice, which scarcely rose above
hoarse whisper, as his canoe swept around a
ragged promontory, t' there is light ahead!''
All eyes were bent towards the shore. A tall
Indian fire CLEANED up amidst the great oaks,
casting q red and strong light upon the dark
waters For single and breathless moment
the operation Of the oar was suspended, and
every ear listened with painful earnestness to
catch the well-known sounds, which seldom
failed to indicate the propinquity Of the saw
ages. But all was now silent. With slow and
faint movements of the oar, the canoes gradu-
ally approached the suspected spot The land
ing was effected in silence. After moving eau
tiously for considerable distance in the dark
shadow, the party at length ventured within
the broad circle of the light. which at first
attracted their attention. Harmon was at their
head, with an eye and hand, quick as those Of
the savage enemy whom he sought.
The body of fallen tree lay across the path.
As the rangers were on the point Of leaping over
it, the coarse whisper of Harmon again broke
the silence
''God of heavenr' he exclaimed, pointing to
the tree. 'sSee here tits the work of the
cursed red skins -
A smothered curse growled on the lips of the
rangers, as they bent grimly forward in the
direction pointed out by their commander.
Blood was eprinkled on the rank grass, and a
human hsnd-the hand of white man-lay on
the bloody log!
There was not word spoken, but every
countenance worked with terrible emotion.
Had the rangers followed their own desperate
onward to the work of vengeance; but the ex-
ample Of their leader, who had regained his
usual calmness and self-command, prepared
them for less speedy, but more certain tri-
umph Cautiously passing over the fearful OBJ
stacle in the pathway, and closely followed by
his companions, he advanced stealthily and eau
tiously upon the light, hiding himself and his
party as much as possiblee behind the thick
trees. In few moments they obtained full
iow n af cbal
at their length around q huge fire, but at 8
convenient distance from it, lay the painted and
half naked forms of twenty savages 1t was
evident from their appearance, that they had
passed the day in one Of their horrid revels, and
that were now suffering under the effects of
intoxication. Occasionally. grim warrior
among them started half upright, grasping his
tomahawk, as if to combat some vision Of his
disordered brain, but, unable to shake off the
stupor from his senses, uniformly fell back into
his former position.
The rangers crept nearer. As they bent their
keen eyes along their well-tried rifles, each felt
perfectly sure of his aim. They waited for the
signal Of Harmon, who was endeavoring to
bring his long musket to bear upon the head Of
the most distant Of the savages.
ssFires' he at length exclaimed, as the sight
Of his piece interposed full and distinct between
his eye and the wild scalp-lock of the Indian.
Sire, and rush on!'
Thesharp voice of thirty rifles thrilled through
the heart Of the forest. There was a groan-a
smothered cry--a wild and conyulsive move
ment among the sleeping Indians; and all again
was silent
The rangers sprang forward with their club
bed muskets and hunting knives; but their work
was done. The red men had gone to their last
audit before the Great Spirit; and no sound
was heard among them, save the gurgling of the
hot blood from their lifeless bosoms
They were left unburied on the place of their
reveling--a prey to the foul birds of the air,
and the ravenous beasts Of the wilderness.
Their sealps were borne homeward in triumph
by the successful rangers, whose children and
grand children shuddered, long after, at the
thrilling narration of the midnight adventure.
Voltaire's Epigram
King, Author, Philosopher Poet, Musician,
Free Mason Economist, Bard, Politician.
How had Europe rejoiced. If q Christian he'd BEEN
Ii man, how would he have enraptured his Queen.
This was handed about Berlin, and shown to
that great legislator, the Prussian monarch,
who deemed it libel, because it was true; and
| instead of employing counsel, filing an infor-
nation, and taking other tedious methods, took
more summary way of Furnishing the author,