1861. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



469 



in profusion around us. As we walked along, a 

 startled rabbit would frequently give a few thumps 

 with his feet upon the ground and bound away ; 

 a partridge would suddenly fly up almost from 

 under our feet, and with a v/hirring sound quick- 

 ly disappear through the thick foliage. 



The ground now began gradually to descend, 

 and pushing our way through underbrush and 

 tangled wild vines, we came all at once, with 

 scarcely a previous glimpse, to the shore of a 

 beautiful woodland lake. This lake, which is 

 called "Long Pond," is of considerable extent, 

 and is entirely surrounded by an amphitheatre of 

 bills which are covered by an unbroken forest, 

 and there is no human habitation within the dis- 

 tance of nearly a mile. 



Seating ourselves upon one of the shelving 

 rocks which skirt its eastern shore, we could not 

 but go back in imagination to the time when the 

 red man in his birch canoe skimmed lightly o'er 

 its sparkling waters, in utter ignorance of the 

 coming white man, and of the fate which awaited 

 him and all his race, in consequence of the white 

 man's appearance. 



The solitude, which we had sought and found, 

 was perfect ; not a sound could be heard, but the 

 sharp, rapid notes of the kingfisher, as he occa- 

 sionally Hew over the water in search of prey, and 

 the clear, sweet melody of the wood-thrushes, 

 which were warbling forth their hymns of praise 

 in the tall oaks upon the opposite shore. The 

 scene before us was calm and beautiful — inclin- 

 ing one to deep thought and reflection upon the 

 past, present and future. There is no place on 

 earth, it seems to me. more favorable to the cul- 

 tivation of devotional and happy feelings, than 

 one like this ; for here we are entirely separated 

 from the busy, anxious, jostling world, and can 

 hold communion with the Maker of all things, in 

 His own living temple. The poet Grahame has 

 given a beautiful expression to these same 

 thoughts : 



"It is not only in the sacred fane 

 That homage should be paid to the Most Highj 

 There i3 a temple, one not made with hands — 

 The vaulted firmament ; far in the woods, 

 Almost beyond the sound of city chime, 

 At intervals heard through the breeaeless air; 

 When not the limberest l;af is seen to move, 

 Save where the linnet lights upon the spray ; 

 Wh- n not a Ibweret bends its little stalk, 

 Save where the bee alights upon the bloom ;— 

 There, rapt in gratitude, in joy, and love. 

 The man of God vrill pass the Sabbath noon ; 

 Silence, hia praise ; his disembodied thoughts. 

 Loosed from the load of words, will high ascend 

 Beyond the empyrean." 



How harsh and discordant would be the sound 

 of angry words, or the noise of human strife in 

 this quiet solitude ! It would be like drawing 

 the brush across a beautiful painting, just finished ; 

 like driving a nail into a splendid mirror ; or like 

 the scathing, withering, terrible efiect of the 

 thunderbolt upon whomsoever or whatsoever it 

 may fall. And yet, in our own beloved coun- 

 try — not far from its capital — in valleys as se- 

 cluded and charming as the one I am describing, 

 men, and brothers, are, at the present time, en- 

 gaged in deadly warfare ! These quiet vales are 

 made to resound with volleys of musketry, with 

 the sound of booming cannon, with the groans 

 and shrieks of the wounded and dying ; the leaves 

 of the forest are sprinkled with blood, and the 

 earth is drenched with human gore. This may 



all be right and necessary in the present state of 

 human affairs, but it is horrible to think of— es- 

 pecially when one is amid the calm, and almost 

 sacred solitudes of nature. 



This valley in which I am musing, is now quiet 

 and peaceful, but who can say that it will not, at 

 some future time, become the battle-ground of 

 contending armies, and the pure waters of this 

 placid lake be turned to crimson with the blood 

 of thousands ? God grant that the day may be 

 far distant, if it ever comes. 



We had been seated thus but a short time, be- 

 fore we espied at the northern shore of the pond, 

 at the distance of about one-fourth of a mile, a 

 thin wreath of smoke curling slowly upwards 

 through the tops of the trees ; we also discovered 

 a boat, which was partially hidden by the droop- 

 ing birches, upon the shore, and listening intent- 

 ly, heard the sound of voices and laughter. Who 

 could it be ? Had the Indians returned to their 

 ancient hunting-grounds, and was this the smoke 

 of their camp fire ? Was it a roving band of gyp- 

 sies, or a squad of Southern "fire-eaters", from 

 the land of bondage, ignorance and abominable 

 crimes ? Presently, two men and a woman came 

 down to the shore, stepped into the boat, launched 

 out upon the water, and came directly tov/ards 

 us. We awaited their coming, not with breath- 

 less anxiety, but with considerable curiosity. 

 They came about half the distance which inter- 

 vened between us and themselves, paused, dropped 

 anchor, and — quietly began to fish. To gratify a 

 desire to hear the echoes of the woods, I fired my 

 rifle into the air ; the effect was surprising. For 

 a moment, the sound of guns could be heard in 

 every direction, and it was easy to imagine that 

 the woods were full of armed men. The people 

 in the boat seemed much startled, and looked this 

 way and that, hardly knowing from whence the 

 sound proceeded. They had probably thought 

 themselves to be as safe from intrusion as we had 

 imagined ourselves to be, but a few moments be- 

 fore. 



My companion had a great desire to know more 

 of this fishing-party, for such it was ; and to grat- 

 ify this curiosity, we concluded to go around to 

 the place from whence the smoke proceeded. To 

 do this, we were obliged to travel a mile or more, 

 without the least path, and through a thick under- 

 growth of bushes, briers and wild vines ; over 

 rocks, ledges, hills and vales ; but even here, we 

 found many things full of interest. The wild 

 rose grew luxuriantly on every side ; we saw many 

 of the beautiful, red field lilies, and the white 

 azalia, [was it the clematis ? the azalias have 

 gone by. — Ed.] or something which very much 

 resembles it, filled the air with its rich fragrance. 

 On the side of a hill, near the pond, we came to 

 a largo rock or boulder, which equals in size a 

 small house. We climbed to the top, and had a 

 fine view of the lake and its surroundings. Even 

 on the top of this barren rock a small tree once 

 flourished, for we found a part of the trunk and 

 some of the roots, the fibres of which were yet 

 clinging to the scanty allowance of soil. The 

 sides of the rock were nearly covered with many 

 varieties of the beautiful mosses and lichens, a 

 description of which has been so exquisitely given 

 by Ruskin. This huge fragment of rock, weigh- 

 ing probably several thousand tons, was traversed 

 in every direction by veins of rock of a different 



