h ditch and parapet surmounted by
a stockade, within which was a strongly built cabin, in size about
thirty by forty feet. Parkman in his "Jesuits in North America," gives
a good description of similar forts built by the Hurons and other
tribes of Canada. The labor originally involved in the erection of the
palisade must have been very great, and nothing but stern necessity is
likely to have driven so naturally improvident a people to undertake
it. The stout stakes were cut, pointed and firmly planted with no
better implement than the stone axe of prehistoric times.

In the lower right hand corner of the plan will be found the spring
referred to in the opening chapter[15] as the scene of the ludicrous
Mohawk scare. Its distance from the old fort is about half a mile, and
the situation and surroundings correspond so exactly with Gyles'
description that there is not the slightest doubt as to its identity.
The water that flows from it never fails and is very clear and cool.

[15] See page 13.

At the back of the lower interval is a curious gully, something like a
broad natural roadway, which affords an easy ascent to the upland.
This no doubt was the commencement of the famous portage by which
bands of savages in ancient days took their way westward to devastate
the settlements of eastern New England.

The small stream which enters the St. John a little above the old
village site is known as Hay's Creek, but in some of the early maps
and land grants is called "Meductic river." About a mile from its
mouth there is a very beautiful cascade; the volume of water is not
large but the height of the fall, 95 feet perpendicular, is
remarkable, surpassing by at least ten feet the Grand Falls of the
River St. John.

Our knowledge of the village Medoctec, and the ways of its people two
centuries ago, is derived mainly from the narrative of John Gyles, the
English lad who was captured at Pemaquid in 1689 and brought by his
Indian master to the River St. John. At the time of his capture Gyles
was a boy of about twelve years of age. He seems to have met with
kindly treatment from his master though not from all the Indians. His
first rude experience was at Penobscot fort where upon the arrival of
the captives, some fifty in number, the squaws got together in a
circle dancing and yelling, as was their custom on such occasions.
Gyles says, "An old grimace squaw took me by the hand and leading me
into the ring, some seized me by my