>From this place we followed a path along the shores of a stretch of water known as "Billington sea." It is a lovely lake, that had been blocked off from the ocean by a great terminal moraine until "Town Brook set it free." There is a legend current here, that a man who brought little credit but much trouble to the Pilgrims by his acts of wantonness, was said to have reported the discovery of a new sea; therefore "Billington's sea." His sons seemed to be chips of the old block and caused the colonists no end of worry and trouble by their recklessness. One of them wandered away and became lost, causing great concern among the Pilgrims. He is said to have climbed up into a high tree from which he located his home and also discovered this body of water.

But no matter who the discoverer may have been, it was enough for us to know that we were treading Billington's path along the shore near the water's edge, linking the New Plymouth with that of three hundred years ago.

Here in this seeming wilderness, wandering upon those old trails that in many places are all but obliterated, or vanishing altogether, for a short way among their tangles of undergrowth, you may still glimpse the wooded region of three centuries ago, through the perspective of the ideas and ideals of the present day. "Here we still look back in loving remembrance to that magical little vessel that fought her way across a cruel wintry sea," bearing those brave souls, whose faith and courage have left us in possession of lessons that are priceless.

Anyone who has been in England when the hedgerows are in bloom can readily imagine how the homesick hearts of the pilgrims, after that first terrible winter, fraught with sickness and death, longed for these lovely flowers. The time of the Mayflower's blossoming has long been past, but in fancy our thoughts go back to that early spring when the first bluebird winged his way to Burial Hill, calling up memories of the English robin, which this harbinger of spring resembles. It was the Pilgrims who called him the blue robin.

We love to think, too, of the joyful discovery that one of the Pilgrims must have had, when he stooped to pluck that first flower of spring whose aromatic fragrance was wafted to him by the balmy south wind. Perhaps it was John Alders who first discovered this lovely flower while the bluebird warbled his message of love and spring from a budding alder. No doubt he carried it in triumph to Priscilla as a token of friendship.

Looking out over the land or the lovely bay that spread before them, the Pilgrims, in spite of their toil and hardships, found heart to send word to their friends in England that it was a "fayere lande and bountiful." "So in the darkest times there came days of brightness when all nature seemed to rejoice, and the woods and fields were filled with gladness." When the time came for the sailing of the Mayflower, not a person of all that little band was willing to go back to the land they had left. Longfellow has given us a picture of the departure in his "Courtship of Miles Standish."

O strong hearts and true! Not one went back in the May
Flower!
No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this
ploughing!
Long in silence they watched the receding sail of the
vessel,
Much endeared to them all, as something living and
human;
Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in a
vision prophetic
Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of Plymouth
Said, "Let us pray!" and they prayed,
And thanked the Lord and took courage.

But let us return to the first trail of the Pilgrims that leads to Burial Hill. "Here above the enterprise of the modern town rises this hill, bearing the very presence of its founders," where you forget for a time the lure of the woods and sea as you reverently pause to read the inscriptions on the mossy headstones. The oldest marked grave is that of Governor Bradford. It is an obelisk a little more than eight feet in height. On the north side is a Hebrew sentence said to signify, Jehovah is our help. Under this stone rests the ashes of William Bradford, a zealous Puritan and sincere Christian; Governor of Plymouth Colony from April, 1621, to 1657 (the year he died, aged 69), except five years which he declined. "Qua patres difficillime adepti sunt, nolite turpiter relinquare." Which means, What our fathers with so much difficulty secured, do not basely relinquish."

Then we see the monument of his son, an Indian fighter. The epitaph reads like this:

Here lies the body of ye honorable Major Wm. Bradford, who expired Feb. ye 20th 1703-4, aged 79 years.