of New Hampshire, it has its history, written and traditional. In fact all this northern country is rich in stirring incident, and only waits the pen of the historian to weave it into interesting narrative.
Some of the principal streams which unite to form the John's river, will bear description.
The northern, or Jeffersonian branch, is an outflow from the marshes and mountain rivulets whose reservoir is "Cherry Pond," or Pondicherry, as known to the early map-makers of this section; a dual collection of waters just within the boundaries of the old "Dartmouth," as Col. John Goffe's grant was anciently denominated.
From, the idea suggested by the name of this pond, it would seem to be a misnomer, as no representative of the prunus family casts a shadow among the dense growth of its surroundings; nor is there aught about the neighboring mountain sufficiently suggestive of the name it bears, and which doubtless gave to the John's river source its meaningless title, for it is not, nor ever was a land of cherries. It bore an Indian name once, for it was in fact part of the ancient hunting-ground and tarrying-place of a race of hunters and warriors. Their arrow heads and hatchets are buried among the decayed accumulations of the years; their foot-prints and resting-places covered by the hands of time. The survivors have gone their own wild way, leaving behind only a few uncertain traditions and suggestive titles, which should have always clung to their subjects so long as mountains needed distinction, or rivers knew names.
When, after the massacre at Cochecho, Kankamargus and his followers fled north and joined the roving bands around the mountains, Israel's river was "Singrawock," a name it bore until visited by Captain Powers, in 1754, and by him re-named Powers's river, perhaps the first white man ever encamped on its shores. Why it was changed to its present unhistorical name, perhaps some one on the borders of Israel can tell; this writer knoweth it not.
Another object which has suffered this change of name, from its Indian idea of "High and Beautiful Place," is "Cherry Mountain;" a dark-wooded and attractive peak, standing out from the Waumbek-Methna group, isolate and grand, and rising two thousand feet above its valley surroundings. Up its evergreen side, by the rivulet paths, we have traced its cloud-born brooklet, to where it bubbles out from the upheaved rocks of its summit. And here was located one of those famous imaginary carbuncles, or shining stones, so eagerly sought for as a source of wealth, by the early explorers, and looked upon by the simpler native, with superstitious awe; and to this day, to the beholder standing upon the west side, miles away, the little stream gliding over the smooth surface of water-worn rock, reflects the sun's noon-tide rays, and sparkles a huge diamond upon the mountain's crest. This was one of the many elevations which the foot of the Indian never dared to press. Those awful heights they regarded with mystical veneration; among the cliffs and waterfalls, they imagined a presiding genius, and in the loud thunders and revels of the tempest, they heard the voice of the Great Spirit; "they saw him in the cloud and heard him in the wind." Influenced by fear, they dare not intrude into the sacred domains of those all powerful and invincible beings. Hence these cloud-piercing summits they never visited. "Ke-won-ente" was the traditional name of this water-grooved pinnacle, an outgrowth from the three distinct ideas euphoniously expressed, kees high, wonne pleasant or beautiful, and auke place.
Along the valley, at the western base of this stately mountain, flows the Carroll contribution to John's river; this was, up to a few years since, one of the finest trout streams in all this section, winding through the primeval shadows of the ancient Breton Woods, its waters were almost un-whipped; the lumber-
