29. THERE'S A LIGHT HOUSE IN BAKKHAMSTED And when the stage came through the night, Past the lonely Indian cabins, The driver, seeing rays of light, Shouted gladly, "There's the Light House! More and more the white man traveled, So the road-way by the river Was improved for stage coach service In the year of sev'nteen hundred- Eight and ninety--turnpike road-way Past the lonely Light House Village, Turnpike road-way for the coaches, Albany and Hartford coaches, Coaches on the Greenwoods Turnpike, Turnpike by the Tunxis River. Far from Albany the coaches, Rolling nightly through the forests, Passed the home of Molly Barber. And the stories of the cabins On the side of Ragged Mountain Spread from city unto city. Passing on the lonely turnpike, On the turnpike by the river In the year of eighteen hundred, And the years that slowly followed, Through the dim and fearful shadows, Where the mists hung dark and heavy, When the great owls hooted sadly, Nightly came the stage a-creaking On its journey to New Hartford. Seeing light within the forest, "There's the Light House!" cried the driver, "Five more miles to reach New Hartford!" Light House for the stage coach traffic, For the ocean waves were rolling Sixty miles away to southward, And no ships were on the river, Sailing past the Indian cabins. Thus was named the ancient village, Village of Barkhamsted Indians, On the side of Ragged Mountain, By the winding Tunxis River. 30. CHAUGHAM DWELT ALL UNMOLESTED. When Chaugham saw New Hartford's doom, Pictured 'gainst the clouds of ev'ning, His signal fire lit up the gloom, Warning of impending danger. Ever friendly to the white man, Chaugham dwelt all unmolested In his cabin on the mountain. Once he read in smoke-cloud signals, As the twilight shadows gathered, Indian plans at Satan's Kingdom To attack and burn New Hartford. Hast'ning to the mountain summit, Up the trail so steep and rugged, Midst the rocks and jagged boulders, To the lofty granite lookout, "Chaugham Rock" atop the mountain, Chaugham lit the danger signal. Leaped the flames against the darkness. Answered then New Hartford's signal From the top of Town Hill flaming, And the people of New Hartford Saw the fire and met the danger, Saving barns and homes and cattle, While the women and the children Rested safely in the fortress, On the top of Town Hill standing, Guarded by New Hartford's bravest; Fortress built of mighty timbers From the pine trees of the Mast Swamp, For protection 'gainst the Indians, Indians of dread Satan's Kingdom, Thus we find it in the records. Friendly were the early settlers To the lonely Light House people, Dwelling in their lowly ca'bins On the side of Ragged Mountain.