to know that before he died
he found his daughter, though she was the squaw of an Indian hunter and
was living with his tribe on the shore of the St. Lawrence.

THE VISION ON MOUNT ADAMS

There are many traditions connected with Mount Adams that have faded out
of memory. Old people remember that in their childhood there was talk of
the discovery of a magic stone; of an Indian's skeleton that appeared in
a speaking storm; of a fortune-teller that set off on a midnight quest,
far up among the crags and eyries. In October, 1765, a detachment of nine
of Rogers's Rangers began the return from a Canadian foray, bearing with
them plate, candlesticks, and a silver statue that they had rifled from
the Church of St. Francis. An Indian who had undertaken to guide the
party through the Notch proved faithless, and led them among labyrinthine
gorges to the head of Israel's River, where he disappeared, after
poisoning one of the troopers with a rattlesnake's fang. Losing all
reckoning, the Rangers tramped hither and thither among the snowy hills
and sank down, one by one, to die in the wilderness, a sole survivor
reaching a settlement after many days, with his knapsack filled with
human flesh.

In 1816 the candlesticks were recovered near Lake Memphremagog, but the
statue has never been laid hold upon. The spirits of the famished men
were wont, for many winters, to cry in the woods, and once a hunter,
camped on the side of Mount Adams, was awakened at midnight by the notes
of an organ. The mists were rolling off, and he found that he had gone to
sleep near a mighty church of stone that shone in soft light. The doors
were flung back, showing a tribe of Indians kneeling within. Candles
sparkled on the altar, shooting their rays through clouds of incense, and
the rocks shook with thunder-gusts of music. Suddenly church, lights,
worshippers vanished, and from the mists came forth a line of uncouth
forms, marching in silence. As they started to descend the mountain a
silver image, floating in the air, spread a pair of gleaming pinions and
took flight, disappearing in the chaos of battlemented rocks above.

THE GREAT CARBUNCLE

High on the eastern face of Mount Monroe shone the Great Carbuncle, its
flash scintillating for miles by day, its dusky crimson glowing among the
ledges at night. The red men said that it hung in the air, and that the
soul of an Indian--killed, that he might guard the spot--made approach
perilous to