WATSON'S CROSSING. 69 



with walnut, butternut, and hickory trees, supposed to 

 have been planted by the Indians. 



A century ago the spot was known as "Gun -slip," 

 and only recently has this meaningless name been cor- 

 rectly explained. It is a corruption of " Oconio's leap," 

 and the story of two centuries ago ran that a Unami Ind- 

 ian of that name once climbed nearly to the top of the 

 tree to rob an eagle's nest, when the eagles attacked him. 

 Seeing that his safety lay in sudden flight only, he gave 

 a mighty leap, hoping to alight unharmed among the 

 thick-set branches of the trees beneath; but that the old 

 she-eagle caught him as he jumped, and let him down 

 gently to the ground. A beautiful example of a nursery 

 tale told by matter-of-fact Quakers. 



It was here, just a year ago, that I stopped to talk 

 with a neighbor, and he told me a strange story. He 

 had been mowing, some weeks before, a rank growth of 

 weeds, and while thus engaged, noticed a few paces be- 

 fore him a clump of elders about which a pair of little 

 yellow warblers were constantly flying, as though in 

 trouble. Suddenly one of them flew directly in his face, 

 snapping its bill and chirping excitedly. Not stopping 

 his work, the mower was again and again saluted in the 

 same manner, and he saw that the bird's actions meant 

 unmistakably a protest against his farther progress. He 

 quit mowing, and the bird flew back to the bushes. He 

 cut another swath, and brought the bird back almost at 

 the same moment. The mower's curiosity was now 

 thoroughly aroused. He walked ahead to the bushes 

 and found a nest containing young birds. Weeks af- 

 ter, I went to the place, and found the cluster of 



