The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1892-09-08


to the pine lands we are going. The roads
are just as smooth as they were yesterday,
for the Saco is still trailing along beside
us over her yellow sanded pathway, and
we are glad of her company. Pine spills
are so thick under foot, and pine branches
are so thick over head, that the heat is
quite excluded. 1t is charming drive.
The underground is a scrub oak, just now
laden with tiny acorns, shrub that we
have never seen before. Miles of these
shady drives are found in this section. and
it takes either an old acquaintance,
or a keen observer to keep from get
ting lost. Our first objective point
this morning is Jockey Cap, huge
boulder, said to be the largest in America,
and next in size to any in the world
Standing at the base Of it's front, we read
lily understand from the surprising like
ness Of its form to 4 Jockeys cap, why
this name was given to the rock. Strolling
round to the left we find a well worn
pathway leading along its southern base.
rising rapidly toward the summit A
sharp climb Of twenty minutes and we
are above the trees, and scramblng up
the slippery rocks to the extreme top. A
few pines, few scrub oaks, and much
moss is here Going cautiously forward,
we are soon looking down an almost sheer
precipice two hundred and fifty feet high.
No moss, no trees, no earth even, only
the bare, hard white rock. The view from
this point is sublime. All the country
which we saw yesterday is again before
our eyes, but to-day It is a picture not
reality We turn again and again as we
retrace our steps to gaze once more on
this picture which las no place save in
the memories of those who have once look
ed upon it. As we drive away we
take a last look at the white sol emn face
OF the old rock, while our driver tells us
the legend of Molly Locket, the last of the
Pequawket tribe OF Indians
We have just time enough left to visit
one more place, spot OF historic interest,
Lowell or Love Well $ Pond Here in the
years agone this lake shore was the home
of a savage tribe of Indians 1t is useless
to repeat the story Young America can
tell you all about it, ind Older Americans
have heard it beside the fire from the lips
of grey haired men and women. Sufficient
fol me to say that it is lovely spot. The
broad sandy beaches of sufficient width
for several teams to drive abreast, glisten
in the August sunshine. The waters of
the lake, blue and bright, are like a sea Of
glass, and the white lilies, living upon
its bosom. touch the waters caressn@lv.
y boat was procured, and we soon had a
| large bunch of the white beauties in our
hands. They We're very large and per
feet, and the outer leaves We're tinged with
red more deeply than any we ever saw be
fore, and wondered if deep down in
the old lake there yet remained tinge of
red from that princely fought battle of
long ago.
| We were shown Battle Creek, 50 named
from this fight, and we We're also assured
| that bullet marks are still to be seen iii the
old tree trunks about the mouth of Battle
| Creek. The musician OF the party sang
an appropriate song to our boatmen while
| on the water, which WAS much enjoyed
| We are several miles from camp, and the
forenoon speaker is with rs. The word
comes back along the line TO forward
march, and in Il moment we have said
good bye to the lake and are driving rap
| idly camp ward.
| ooh Lake of calm. Oh the dark still wood
| And stiller skies. that oNtrhroud Your rest
| and unietnue.
| To-day is Grange DAY at Chautauqua, and
State Master Hunt prcsles With much
dignity. The speakers are the Professors
| from the State College. and the day is 10 he
an interesting one. A chorus Of tlIirty-tuul
| voices, said to be the finest ever presented
here, gives the evening entertainment.
| The large auditorium was packed MANY
eXcursionists htving come ON purpose
to listen to the music. 1t is the closing
exercises of the Challtaupua summer
| school at Fryeburg. I"-morrow the
classes go to .e nAuntains and we are to
90 with them. H. l.. Il.