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.
Round and round the yearly cycle
Rolled the ever changing seasons,
With the coming of the robins,
In the sweet and pleasant spring times;
With the sunshine and the shadows
In the sultry days of summers;
With the robins flying southward
Midst the falling leaves of autumn;
With the lonely desolation
In the cold and dreary winters.
THE SEASONS PASSED AND YEARS GREW
OLD.
With summer heat and winter cold,
Changed the river's nightly cadence,
As seasons passed and years grew old
In the valley of the Tunxis.
With the changing of the seasons,
Changed the river's nightly cadence.
In the sumlmer and the autumn,
Quiet was the Tunxis River,
Just a murmur of the waters
As they wandered ever southward
Through the sultry shadows flowing,
Making music in the night time
For the people of the village.
In the cold and dreary winters,
Flowing in its ice-bound channel,
Hardly was the river's murmur
Heard within the little village;
Yet the sleepers oft were startled,
When the northern lights were shining,
In the cold and frosty night-time,
By the sudden cracking, snapping,
Of the ice along the river,
Breaking thus the star-lit silence
Of the river and the village.
When the air of spring grew warmer,
Black and low the storm clouds gathered,
Driven by the east wind's power,
Swept across the darkened sky-ways,
Pouring rain upon the valley,
'Till the river, slowly swelling,
Moaning 'neath its heavy bondage,
Burst its hard and icy fetters.
Raced the swirling billows foaming,
Sweeping southward through the forest.;
Tossing logs and jagged ice-cakes,
With a mighty roar of waters,
Crashing on the rocks and boulders,
Tossing spray across the hill-side,
'Till the people of the village
Trembled at the river's power,
Fearing for their habitations.