i6 



formed into painted warriors who danced wildly around the glow- 

 ing embers, brandishing their gleaming tomahawks and uttering 

 fearful warhoops, that drove all the blood in my veins back up- 

 on my heart; but starting up, I beheld the after-glow of the sun- 

 set flooding all the skies and hills with its soft halo. That was 

 my blazing pyre; the dark outlines of the evergreens standing 

 out against the luminous sky, my druids; the flashes of light 

 radiating from the crimson streaks along the lustrous horizon, my 

 gleaming tomahawks and warriors red, and the thrilling war cries 

 resolved themselves into the screams of the iron courser as he 

 sped through the valley. 



The hills in this section of the Fells, form a series of basins in 

 whose hollows are many streams, pools and ponds. The most 

 beautiful of these ponds is Hemlock Pond, with its fine grove of 

 granite boulders at the upper end. Near by is a fine swamp of 

 white birches, and a short distance to the north is Shiner Pond, 

 where those astute historians, the boys, who are generally well 

 initiated into all the mysteries of the woodlands, within any rea- 

 sonable distance of their homes, say that they used to go fishing 

 for the little fish called "shiners." 



Eastward from Shiner Pond on the summit of a conspicuous 

 elevation, is the conical collection of stones which is designated 

 on the Fells map, as the "Stone Monument," but which the boy 

 historians declare was built by the Maiden High School boys, and 

 by them called "The Cairn," certainly a much more appropriate 

 name for it than the other. 



The clear tones of some wheelman's bugle comes borne to us 

 on the wind from over the hills, as we now descend once more 

 ,and make our way eastward, now along charming woodpaths, 

 through thicket and swamp, and now over spongy hummocks, 

 or rugged hills, until we reach a long ravine that leads us out on 

 to the road near the old Lynde house, one of the oldest houses 

 now standing in Melrose, and one of the oldest in New England. 

 Like the old Craddock House in Medford, it has outlived many 

 %\as&i> generations and make many interesting periods in our early his- 

 tory. What thrilling stories of peace and war, of love and sor- 

 row its old rafters could relate if they could only speak! 



But we are now approaching a region where evergreens largely, 

 and as"we turn into Ravine Road, almost entirely predominate. 

 Magnificent pines and hemlocks stretch their great branches 



