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 mountains
running in long parallels, or bending ridge behind ridge,
visible, here blazing in sunlight, there gloomy with shadow, and
all related to the towering mass of the imperial Washington.
"And Chocorua is the only mountain here whose summit is honored
with a legend. 'In the valley where the lovely forest-clad
mountains tower above the blue lakes dwelt Chocorua, the last
chief of his tribe. Here too lived a settler by the name of
Cornelius Campbell.
"Chocorua had a son, nine or ten years old, to whom Caroline
Campbell had occasionally made such gaudy present as were likely
to attract his savage fancy. This won the child's affections, so
that he became a familiar visitant, almost an inmate of their
dwelling, and, being unrestrained by the courtesies 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 wife by the side of a brook, all that
was left to him was his little son. After the death of the boy,
jealousy and hatred took possession of Chocorua's soul. He never
told his suspicions, but he brooded over them in secret, to
nourish the deadly revenge he contemplated against Cornelius
Campbell.
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