27. THIRTY CABINS ON THE HILL-SIDE.
The village on the hill-side grew,
Thirty cabins on the hill-side,
And all worked hard to feed the crew,
Hunting, fishing, weaving baskets.
Dwelling here within the forest,
In the sunshine and the shadow,
While the years were rolling onward,
Other children came and other
Cabins rose beside the river
In the shadow of the forest,
Till the cabins made a village—
Thirty cabins on the hill-side.
Through this little Indian village,
Ran a wood-land stream a-winding
Down the side of Ragged Mountain,
Small and scarcely seen in summer,
"Mud-pie Place" for Indian children,
Playing on the mountain side—
Mighty in the early spring time,
When the winter snows were melting;
Mighty in the sultry summer
Midst the flashing of the lightning,
Midst the rolling of the thunder,
Midst the heavy driven showers
On the mountain and the valley.
Many children in the village,
Children playing on the island,
On the island in the river,
Playing 'round their mimic wigwams,
Thinking they were mighty hunters
Seeking game among the bushes.
Children climbing to the tree-tops,
Children roosting on the branches,
Playing they were sleepy chickens,
Roosting out of reach of foxes.
Many little voices crying,
Many little feet to cover
When the winter snows were falling.
Many baskets to be woven
To exchange for food and clothing.