"Ne-top-ki-ki-ta, Ski-dem-bak.

Harken unto me, My People, Here are Constable and Sheriff From the Mighty Central River, Looking for a pretty White Girl, Lovely White Girl, Molly Barber.

Golden yellow are her tresses Banked in ringlets o'er her shoulders, Lovely White Girl, Molly Barber, Fleeing from her father's wigwam, With her Indian husband, Chaugham.

"Listen well and look around you, For the Constable and Sheriff Think she's hiding in our village.

Have you seen her, O My People?

Pretty White Girl, Molly Barber, With her golden, yellow tresses Banked in ringlets o'er her shoulders?

Have you seen her? Have you seen her By the river, in the forest?

Is she with us in the village?

"If you see her, quickly tell me And I'll send her to her father."

When the chief had finished speaking, No one moved and no one answered.

All were silent in the village.

Looking o'er his loyal people, Viewing all the upturned faces, Slowly spoke the crafty Tomo,--

"I-no-see,-I-no-see-White-Girl- With-her-golden-yellow-tresses- Banked-in-ringlets-o'er-her-shoulders."

Then in solemn, stately accents, Spake the chieftain, crafty Tomo, To the Constable and Sheriff,

"Go and search my people's wigwams, Look in all the secret places.

If you find White Girl, you catch her, Take her to her angry father."

Then the Constable and Sheriff Hastened to the Indian dwellings, Eagerly they searched each wigwam, Leaving all the contents scattered, But they found no White Girl hidden, Found no White Girl's shoes or clothing, Found no tracks or trace of White Girl.

All the time the heart of Molly Beat in silent fear and terror, As she waited with the others, Lest her father's hunters find her, Lest they take her to her father.

When the anxious hunt was ended, When the Constable and Sheriff Had departed empty handed, Had departed sadly homeward-- Followed by the scouts 'of Tomo, Lest they circle and, returning, Creep in darkness near the village, Thinking Tomo may have tricked them, Hoping still to find the daughter Of the angry Peter Barber, Then the people of the village Put their wigwams all in order, Sought their usual occupations 'Till the sun, all low descending, Warned them Of the gloomy twilight, And the coming of the darkness, With the need of peaceful slumber.

So they ate their frugal supper, Fish from out the Tunxis River, Squirrels from the lonely forest-- Speaking as they ate their supper, Oft of Molly and of Chaugham, And the visit of the sheriff.

Whispered words of praise for Tomo, "Mighty Tomo, Crafty Chieftain, Always speaking words of wisdom."

When the twilight turned to darkness, All the weary people slumbered, Save the wary scouts who listened, Watching through the night-time, Watching by the Tunxis River, Watching on the lonely hill-side.

When the twilight turned to darkness, All the weary people slumbered, Save the kindly Chieftain, Tomo, At the door-way of his wigwam, With the Narraganset, Chaugham, Talking, planning for the morrow- How to further aid the couple, How to hide them ever safely, In some lonely mountain fastness, Where the angry Peter Barber, Ever searching, couldn't find them--

All the time the kindly Chieftain Listened to his scouts reporting, From the hill-side and the river-- "Whip-poor-will" a bird was singing-- "All is well along the hill-side,"

And a loon was softly calling-- "All is well along the river."

When the morning sun was shining, Molly Barber and her husband, With the aid of Tomo's sannups Bearing axes and equipment, Hastened northward through the forest, Ever near the Tunxis River, To the side of Ragged Mountain, In the town of fair Barkhamsted, And beside the sparkling river Found a place for habitation, Builded there a lonely cabin, Midst the trees beside the mountain, Built a cabin in the Greenwoods, Deep within the gloomy shadows.

First of all the early cabins Built within Barkhamsted borders,

Strong and st.u.r.dy was this cabin, Built of logs of oak and hemlock, Home of Molly and of Chaugham, On the side of Ragged Mountain,

Catamounts and bears and panthers Sniffed around the lonely cabin In the dark and dreary night-time.

Molly feared these forest creatures, Feared they'd break the fragile windows, Feared they'd enter through the windows, Feared they'd kill herself and Chaugham.

Many sleepless nights she trembled At the howling of the wolf-pack In the valley by the Tunxis.

Oft she thought of home and mother By the mighty Central River, But her courage did not fail her When she thought of Peter Barber And his cruel, angry shouting.

Oft she whispered in the darkness, "Better fear the catamountains, Better face the bears and panthers, Better hear the wild wolves howling Than an angry father shouting, Or reside within the shadow Of his dark and gloomy presence."

For a hundred years this cabin Stood beside the Tunxis River, By the famous Tunxis River, River nam,ed for Tunxis Indians, Calm and peaceful Indians dwelling In their Farmington round houses, And the term, "The Tunxis River,"

Signifies, in Indian accents, "Beautiful and rapid river."

19. HIDDEN IN THE GLOOMY FOREST.

And deep within the dreamy wood, Where the sheltering hemlocks rustled, Beneath the hill their cabin stood, Looking out upon the river.

The oak leaves trembled in the breeze, Slowly rolled the Tunxis River, And high above the leafy trees, Flew the woodc.o.c.k ever circling.

Thus it was that Molly Barber And her spouse, the Honest Chaugham, Were the first of all the settlers, In the town of fair Barkhamsted, Where her father couldn't find them, Hidden in the gloomy forest, Where the Tunxis River wanders Through the dark and gloomy forest, With the woodc.o.c.k ever tapping, Tapping on the mighty oak trees, O'er the pine trees ever screaming, Circling high above the mountain, And the sea-gulls, fishing, screeching, Dipping low above the water, And the great, blue herons wading, Wading, fishing in the river, Calling, calling through the twilight.

20. HERE THEY BUILT THEIR LONELY CABIN.

One ford above, one ford below, Easy crossings of the Tunxis, For shallow there the water's flow In the Town of fair Barkhamsted.

Here they built their lonely cabin In a Paradise of Beauty.

Shaded by a spreading larch tree, Midst the spring time's rich profusion, Near the Tunxis winding southward, Like a pathway through the forest, With two fords for easy crossing, Where the leafy boughs are parted And the slanting rays of sunlight

Glisten on the tiny wavelets As they dance along the shallows O'er the pebbles and the boulders.

Here the mountain bending eastward, Leaves a place for habitation Midst the rocks and mighty ledges-- "Light-House Flats" beside the river, On the side of Ragged Mountain, In the town of fair Barkhamsted.

21. CHILDREN IN THE HILL-SIDE CABIN.

Then one by one the children came, Eight in all to break the silence, And each one bore a pale-face name Hiding not its Indian features.

Here they dwelt while-years rolled onward, Bringing children to the cabin, Lonely cabin on the mountain, Eight, in all the silence breaking [n the lonely; Light House cabin,

Two were boys with feet so nimble, Little Solomon and Samuel, Hallowed names from out the Bible, Six were girls with smiling faces, Mary, Mercy, Sally, Polly, Then came Elizabeth and Hannah.

Blended in each youthful figure Was the fairness of their mother With the darker hue of father, Like a shadow on a lily.

Long and straight and black their hair was, Like the Narragansett children.

22. TALES OF JAMES' AND MOLLY'S CHILDHOOD.

While hearth flames danced in magic plays, James and Molly told their children

The stories of their childhood days-- Wethersfield and Narragansett.

Molly told them of her mother, All the kindness of her mother And the story of her father, Of her proud and wealthy father And her home beside the river Where the big canoes were floating On the mighty Central River; Told them of the early plowing In the fields beside the river, And the harvest in the autumn-- All the golden corn and pumpkins.

Told them of the holy Sabbath,-- How in church the people gathered, Listened to the pastor's sermons, Prayed to G.o.d for his protection.

Taught them all to say "Our Father-- "

Ere they closed their eyes in slumber, Tried to teach them to be Christians, Even in the lonely forest.

Then she told them of the parties, With the fiddling and the dancing, 'Till their minds were filled with wonder As they listened to her stories.