Military History. 243 



can almost feel the uneasy restlessness which pervades the wor- 

 shippers. Many of the friends, usually so regular in their attend- 

 ance, are away in the forts and garrison houses, and all through 

 the sermon, probably several hours long, the thoughts of the 

 listeners wander, and the strained ears catch with apprehension 

 every unusual noise from without. We imagine, too, that when 

 at last Captain Hobart and Ensign Thaxter enter to join in the 

 service, neither will take their accustomed seats, but more likely 

 will remain near the door, and where perhaps the keen eye of 

 the commander can keep within view the muskets without, and oc- 

 casionally catch a glimpse of the " warde," moving from one point 

 of vantage to another. Meanwhile the latter, not perhaps sorry 

 to be in the open air this April morning, keeps eye and ear alert 

 for sign or sound of the wily foe. From the summit almost the 

 whole of the lower village can be seen. Across the glassy waters 

 of the inner bay, which, stretching away from his very feet, are 

 broken into several shady coves and dotted with islands, he is 

 following with ill-pleased attention a canoe paddled by an Indian, 

 who a moment later may be seen climbing the cliffs on the eastern 

 shore and losing himself in the forest paths which lead toward 

 Neck Gate Hill, from behind which a faint blue smoke rises and 

 fades slowly away. There on the southeastern slope, and nearly 

 at the foot of the hill, are the Avigwams of the little-trusted 

 countrymen of Philip who yet remain in the vicinity. This spot, 

 by tradition said to have been the last camping-place of the 

 Indian in Hingham, is comprehended in the property now owned 

 by Mr. T. T. Bouve, and called, from the fact and the configura- 

 tion of the land, " Indian Hollow." The smooth lawn of the 

 present clay shows no sign, but the plow would reveal a long and 

 broad line of disintegrating clam-shells, doubtless a shell-heap 

 of the former inhabitants, and several implements have been 

 picked up in the immediate vicinity which were formerly in 

 use by them. However, beyond a mental growl of dissatisfac- 

 tion at what he termed the folly of allowing the encampment 

 to remain, our sentry of 1676 could do nothing ; so, turning 

 towards the blue waters of the harbor, his eye falls upon the 

 ship-yard of William Pitts, the first one established in Hingham. 

 He watches, too, for a few moments the white sails of a West 

 Indiaman as she passes between Nantasket and George's Island 

 and thence towards Boston. Then he walks slowly over to the 

 new fort, and carefully scans the country in every direction as 

 far as the eye can reach and the forests permit. And so the 

 long hours pass away until the close of the service brings the 

 uneasy officers out of the meeting, first of all for a conference 

 with the watch, who, however, has little to report. And now 

 the worshippers are wending their way homeward, singly and in 

 groups, some discussing the weather, and others, it is probable, 

 commenting, like their descendants of later generations, upon 



