DEAD WILLOW BEND. 145 



presence of tins bird during the past fifty years, and 

 probably, in that time, not one has ventured on the 

 river above Philadelphia. 



Standing to-day upon this blackened earth that marks 

 an ancient camp, it is not difficult to recall what time the 

 fires burned brightly and all was active life about them. 

 Was it clay ? The dense forest of nut-bearing trees cast 

 a deep shadow over all, and not a ray of the torrid, mid- 

 summer sun ever reached the dank meadow turf. "Was 

 it night? Through the gloomy recesses of this same 

 forest sounded the weird cry of the eagle-owl, the howl 

 of the wolf, the bark of the fox, and blood-curdling 

 scream of the wary cougar. 



Then all this wide reach of open meadow was a for- 

 est, and the nuts that the Indians gathered were a no in- 

 considerable source of food. "Walnut, butternut, shell- 

 bark hickory, chestnut, chinkapin, and hazel grew in 

 great luxuriance. 



The creek, and river too, were deeper then than now ; 

 their currents swifter, and the islands well defined, heav- 

 ily timbered and stable. The trees that then grew upon 

 the islands and the main shores stood as faithful guards, 

 and resisted the encroachment of floating ice and the 

 torrents of the yearly freshets. The shifting sand-bars 

 were then far fewer and of inconsiderable areas, as com- 

 pared with those that now choke up the channel and 

 baffle the navigator's skill. 



In May, 1749, long after the Indians had been dis- 

 placed by the English settlers, Peter Kalm, the Swedish 

 naturalist, described the bank of the river for a few 

 miles above and below the mouth of Crosswicks Creek 

 7 



