Year: 1867

/
The "old French War; was over.
The banners Of England had long
| streamed above the town of Quebec.
The Indians had left the woods of New
Hampshire, for the border waters and
deeper forests Of Canada and the
west. Time had benumbed the iron
sinews Of rangers n-untamabl by any
other eneny--or they lay sleeping each
in his cell forever LAID. Where the red
man once roamed after the moose,
prowled upon the scout, or lightened
the council fire-now stood the infant
village and the peaceful neighborhood.
The waterfall ut whose foaming foot the
Indian once darted his rude spear into
the salmon, or hooked the trout upon
his curved bit Of bone, now turning the
wheel of the clumsy grist mill, where
the jogging farmer brought his rye and
indian, over moor and hill, through
bush and swamp, in safety. The con-
gregations as they gathered together at
meeting, no longer brought their charged
guns to the house of worship, or feared
that the prayers of their minister would
be interrupted by the war whoop; OF
Lovewell's men scarcely q survivor re-
mained; of the few who lived through
the desperate fight of Pigwacket, Cham
berlain was yet alive. He had long
given over hunting, and peace had
changed his war spear into an imple-
M nf hre hov Hrs, oil La J.,
and fighting bears, nothing remained to
him but the gun that shot old Pagus at
Lovewell's pond, and the bullet pouch
and yellow powder horn, covered over
with the Indian devices, which were
the spoil of the savagcs in the terrible
encounter. These he had preserved
with an old mans care. His cottage.
from which went the solitary smoke
that caught the eye of Captain Love-
we'll and his men, now was the centre
Of a considerable hamlet. A wild stream
ran past 1t, and q little way below
tumbled down a fall on which stood one
of the rude saw mills Of that day. Old
Chamberlain, once the swift hunter aud
proud warrior, was now its humble
tender. He had survived his wife and
children. Few of his neighbors ven
tured to be familiar with him, on ac-
count Of the strange popularity Of his
character, and he passed his days in SOL
itude, except such associations as men
had with him in his humble vocations.


In the year 1887, toward the close of
one Of those fair days in autumn, which
make up the Indian summer, number
OF the villagers of P had gathered
into their one story tavern, to talk over
the affairs Of the little public, as was
their wont, when they were surprised
and startled by the entrance of young
Indian among them. An Indian at
that time had got to be rarity in p.
He was tall, over six feet, and finely
formed after the fashion of the forest.
He had belt Of wampum around his
waist, and from 1t hung q tomahawk.
A long gun was in his hand, and he
stood In his moccasins with the grace
and dignity Of . con of . chief. He
placed his gun behind the door, and 81
lcntly took his seat by himself. A little
before sunset the farmers left the inn,
and returned to their homes. One old
hunter remained with the landlord and
the young savage. The hunter eyed
the Indian with close attention--his
suspicious were aroused By the sight of
this warrior armed, 90 rsmote from the
residence Of the nearest tribe, and in a
time of peace.


He was acquainted with the Indian
character in old wars, and his suspicious
were heightened and confirmed, when
he heard the young chief ask the land
lord in low Indifferent tone ii one
Chamberlain dwelt in the villags. The
landlord pointed out TO- him the mill
where tho old man labored, and the viii
lage whore he dwelt. The Indian took
his gun and went out.


"6ome of the blood Of old Paous. y
said the hunter, land I'll venture my
life come to avcnge the death OF that
old chief upon Chamberlain. I'll give
the old man warning" He hastily
stepped out and followed q winding foot