Some Three Hundred Years AgoBrewster, Edith Gilman
History
Some Three Hundred Years Ago
Brewster, Edith Gilman
New Hampshire -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Juvenile literature
Small log cabins were quickly constructed, and also a secure building for
the abundant provisions. Roger worked with the men in landing barrels of
pork, kegs of molasses, sacks of oats, and boxes of candles. A securely
fastened door not only protected these supplies from the weather, but
also kept off the prowling beasts that might find comfortable living on
such food.
When the excitement of landing and the newness of this life began to wear
away, the days seemed much alike. Roger asked one morning, "Father, shall
we see no one but each other again today?"
"That is all, my boy, for the Plymouth Colony is many miles to the south,
and there are only a few people between that settlement and our own. The
Indians are probably up river now for their spring fishing."
Roger had been eager to see an Indian, though he had hoped he might not
be alone, for he rather feared them.
The days wore on with much monotony. The carpenters were busy building
the Manor-house. A few men were planting only the most necessary crops.
Others were making arrangements for the manufacture of salt, which was of
first importance. Otherwise fish could not be preserved for the markets
of England.
One day something did happen. At dusk Roger passed the cabin where
provisions were stored and found the door wide open. It was a law of the
settlement that that door be kept closed and barred.
The boy darted in to see if any one was there. Peering about the kegs and
boxes he met a pair of glaring, fiery eyes that glowed through the gloom
between himself and the doorway. He screamed. The creature crouched. An
added horror came when Roger glanced at the door and saw there the dark,
stern face of a tall Indian with arrow poised. It was aimed not at Roger,
but at the springing lynx. The whirr of that arrow lived in Roger's mind
the rest of his days. The boy himself was almost as limp with fright as
the creature that was carried by Nonowit to the main cabin. For this
Indian had heard of the new settlement and had travelled miles through
the forest to make friends with the white men. He was close behind Roger
and heard his scream of fright when he ran into the store-house.
The settlers, resting from the day's work, were surprised at the
appearance of the Indian, but still more astonished by Roger's story.
John, the cook, then confessed that he had come out of the store-house
with his arms full, and had forgotten to go back and close the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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