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See America First

Chapter 9 WHITE MOUNTAINS

Word Count: 3449    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

oneliness of these lovely hills. Its rhythm suggests the sigh of the wind among mountain pines or the continuous and far-heard melody of distant waterfalls. This famous peak is ev

gy in whose gorges huge shadows are entrapped and whose cliffs blaze with morning gold, and it has the fortune to be

upon the soft, far-stretching landscape. Pass around a huge rock to the other side of the steep pyramid, and you have turned to another chapter in the book of nature. Nothing but mountai

alley where the lovely forest-clad mountains tower above the blue lakes dwelt Chocorua,

ourtesies of civilized life, he would inspect everything which came in his way. Some poison, prepared for a mischievous fox which had long troubled the little settlement, was discovered and drunk by the Indian boy, and he went home to his father to sicken and die. When Chocorua had buried his w

r, though ten years a husband, his last look was towards his wife, answering her parting smile; his last action a kiss for each of his childr

had centered all affection, and now they were torn from him. The remembrance of their love clung to him like the death grapple of a drowning man, sinking him do

if the dead

rm around

ver extinguished. But it rekindled, and with it came a wild, demoniac spirit of revenge. The death groan of Chocorua would make hi

limbed the high precipice, which afterwards took his name. He was probably looking for indications of their return. Here Campbell resolved to carry out his de

e pointed his gun to the precipice. Chocorua, though fierce and fearless as a panther, had never overcome his dread for firearms. He placed his hands upon his ears to shut out the stunning report. The next moment the blood bubbled from his neck, and he reeled fearfully on the edge of the precipice, but he recovered and, raising himself on his hand, he spoke in a loud voice, that grew more terrific as its huskiness increased: 'A curse upon y

tore up the trees, and hurled them at their dwellings; their crops were blasted; their cattle died, and sickness came upon their strongest men. At last the remnant of them departed from the fatal spot to mingl

charming labyrinths of wood that lead to peaceful valleys. These dreamy forest solitudes, with their deep foliage and singing rills which wander here and the

mountains. The Amonoosuc valley is somewhat less than four miles west from the head of Crawford's notch. Here a railroad and the one through highway skirt the east side of the Amonoosuc river; while on the west side a level meadow extends about a half mile directly across to a range of low foot-hills back of which Mount Washington rears his immense bulk. All through this region you will find the most am

of the morning sun. The yellow and white birch waved their spicy branches soothingly above the songful streams, like emerald sprays of art. The vireo's cheery strain sounded from many points in the vast wilderness of foliage. This song coming from afar, only served to heighten the vast and lonely grandeur of the forest solitudes. From

ly embowered among their trees and vines, yet the region still

while the sun shines." Now and then herds of cattle were grazing or standing up to their knees in the cool o

, flowing outlines of these mountains. With the light gray of their granit

s transformed by the nymphs of the mountains. After a few moments' pause they were repeated among the nearer ridges, but softer and with a rare sweetness as pure and clear as a thrush's vesper bell. Again a short pause and we heard them higher, fainter, sweeter, until they died away among the hills; too fine for our morta

s with Ar

e faults of

s of man at producing

iscordant notes bec

nto them the melodi

ey die in y

n field, or

roll from s

orever and

! The sky above was blue; the water of Profile lake was dark blue; the mountains wore a delicate veil of misty blue; blue were the myriads of delicate campanula that peeped from their rocky led

a magnificent forest preserve of six thousand acres, rising nearly two thousand feet above sea level. On either side are Profile and Echo lakes, vieing with each other in their crystal cl

hey too looked for the coming of a great man who would tower far above the ordinary life of those who dwelt in the lowly valley. How long they waited in vain for the appearance of one with features noble, tender and serene as those upon which they gazed! How many years slipped by and only rumors came concerning those who were thou

w up to manhood or womanhood with the Great Stone Face before their eyes; for all of the features were noble, and the expression was at

lley below. How one's earthly schemes seem to pale and fade, as did "Gathergold's" fortune when he beheld the wealth and beauty of Nature about him! How sordid the striving for fame and power appear, which as quickly fade as di

to them." The ancient pines stand hushed and tranquil in the quiet light as if awaiting a message from those lips of stone. You gain new faith in the beauty and freshness of Nature out here. Those lips seem to say "do not live in the mean valleys of earthly ambitio

o see the depth of thought or honest sincerity of soul that shines forth from many a rough exterior, beneath which beats a heart of purest gold. How

guns too, had been carved out of rock and set in place to guard ever this beautiful and vast domain since the beginning of time, they still were not convinced that they were only harmless piles of stones, whose thundering tones never had awakened the echoes of this peaceful spot.

ew miles of its journey, then other branches unite with it to form the Merrimac, which, after gradually descending through Concord, supplies

and Lake Winnepesaukee, because both seem to typify the

ledges where the river plunges in a solid amber sheet and breaks up into avalanches of shimmering rainbow mist, and down in the marsh where acres and acres of green grass and sedge stretch away like gleaming stars on a winter night. Going out to commune with Nature sounds very nice, but it requires the patience of a job, the eyes of a Burbank, the ears of a Mozart, and the great loving heart of a Burroughs if one is to gain the most from one's rambles. You will never learn the hymns that the forest and waterfalls have been singing for ages; never really kn

a boy gazing in rapt admiration away across the lake, his face glowing with enthusiasm, his every gesture speaking of joy and love. Here, we said, is a work more beautiful than any mountain sce

usic slumbers

kindled by th

rts-touch them

melodies un

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