But before five minutes had passed, they almost repented of their bargain. For, turning away from the station to the right, they began ascending a hill that taxed the strength of the pony to the utmost. Up they went and up and up, and the little pony pulled and pulled and pulled his best, but with such a load he couldn’t go faster than a very, very slow walk. At last they reached the top of the hill and there on an open plain they saw a handsome monument—the driver told them it was Forefathers’ Monument. "Whatever did they put it here for?" asked Mary Jane. "There’s nothing here but a field." "You should get out and look," said the driver proudly. "Just look—and you’ll see." They left the pony cart (they were glad to give the little fellow a chance to rest you may be sure) and walked close up to the monument before they turned around to look; and then they saw why the monument was set just there. Before them lay the bay, the blue waters sparkling in the bright sunshine; and to the left and to the right for miles and miles they could see the coast line gleaming gold with the shining sand, and back from the ocean to the north were the green marshes and fertile fields. It was a view long to be remembered. "I expect the Pilgrims stood right here—didn’t they, Mother?" asked Alice. "Without a doubt they did," replied Mrs. Merrill, "and think how it must have looked to them! There were no fields then; only marshes and woods; no friendly city off in the distance; only strange Indians. I can imagine that many a time a lonely Pilgrim must have sat in this very spot and looked longingly out over the ocean toward the home they had left." "They _were_ brave folks, weren’t they, Mother?" said Mary Jane, much impressed with the beautiful view and the thought of the long-ago Pilgrims. "But where’s Plymouth Rock?" "We’ll have to find that rock for you in a hurry," laughed Mrs. Merrill. "Well, at least we know it isn’t on a hill, so we can go on from here if you are ready." The pony cart next pulled them down the hill and that was nearly as exciting as going up, for it surely seemed as though the cart with its four folks would fall over on top of the little pony. "I really believe," suggested Mrs. Merrill, "that we could get around faster if we’d walk, girlies," as they turned back into the station parkway. "Suppose we walk for a way and explore as we go?" The girls were willing, so the pony cart was dismissed, and the Merrills set out to explore.