s, in dismay, asked each other, "What
can be done?" The Indian heard their inquiries, saw their alarm, and in
his Indian way, said, "Harkee me, Indian,--you no run away, no fight so
many Indians. Go up river a mile, quick, make um up fires by camp-ground
(holding up his fingers, five, ten, twenty), cut um sticks, like Indian
roast him meat on, lay um ends in fires, put fires out. When Indians see
and count um sticks he shake his head,--no fight so many pale-faces;
they go back home to camp-grounds." Next morning the villagers waited in
great excitement, fear, and hope. No Indians appeared, and there was
little trouble from them afterwards. Comparative peace reigned, although
the Indians at times (three or four in number) passed through the quiet
town of Plymouth on their way to their old camping-grounds. The
villagers buried their animosity, having been told of the ill-treatment
of the Indians by the State, and, instead of driving them from their
houses, they fed and kept them over night when they signified a desire
to stop and rest.

After many years other settlers went there; passable roads and bridges
were made, and the settlement was extended up along Baker's River almost
to Rumney, and down the river nearly to Bridgewater, now called Lower
Intervale. They brought in from the lower towns oxen, cows, horses,
pigs, geese, and turkeys. Their furs and moose and bear-skins found
ready sale in the lower towns, and afforded them the means of the most
common luxuries and groceries, which could not be provided in their
incomplete rural settlement.

[Illustration: MARSHFIELD--RESIDENCE OF DANIEL WEBSTER.]

A Mr. Brown, of that part of the settlement known as the Lower
Intervale, was one night returning from a neighbor's house. In the
darkness he lost the footpath, and dropped upon his hands and knees to
feel for it. Instantly he felt the hair of some animal touch his face. A
quick thought told him that his companion was none other than an immense
bear. Mr. Brown's presence of mind did not desert him. He knew that all
domestic animals like to be rubbed or scratched, so he began rubbing up
and down his companion's breast and neck, continuing as far as the
throat, while with his other hand he drew out his long hunting-knife
and plunged it in to the handle, at the same instant jumping backwards
with all his might. As soon as he could he made his way back to his
neighbor's house; his neighbor and another man, armed with gun, axe