the Piscataquoag emptying on our left, and heard the Falls of Amoskeag above.
It was here, according to tradition, that the sachem Wonolancet resided; and when at war with the Mohawks, his tribe are said to have concealed their provisions in the cavities of the rocks in the upper part of these Falls.
The future reader of history will associate this generation with the red man in his thoughts, and give it credit for some sympathy with his race. Our history will have some copper tints and reflections at least, and be read as through an Indian-summer haze. But such are not our associations. The Indian has vanished as completely as if trodden into the earth; absolutely forgotten but by a few persevering poets. The white man has commenced a new era. Instead of Philip and Logan, there are Webster and Crockett on the plains; instead of the Council House is the Legislature. What do our anniversaries commemorate but white men's exploits? For Indian deeds there must be an Indian memory; the white man will remember only his own. The foeman is dead or dying. We have forgotten their
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