The Writings of Henry D. Thoreau



Thoreau’s references to arrowheads and other Indian relics his Journal, 1837-1861

To compile this resource, I searched the index of Journal 1 for arrow, implement, Indian, and relic, and electronic versions of the rest of the Journal for the following words: arrow, gouge, hatchet, hoe, implement, mortar, ornament, pestle, pottery, relic, soap stone, soap-stone, soapstone, spear, and tomahawk.

To locate Thoreau’s accounts of finding relics, search for *; accounts are boldfaced.

Beth Witherell, 4/2/11

Journal 1 (10/22/37 to after 1/7/44)

1837

1 10/29/37, J1, pp. 8-9

The Arrowhead.

A curious incident happened some four or six weeks

ago which I think it worth the while to record. John

and I had been searching for Indian relics, and been

successful enough to find two arrowheads and a pestle,

when, of a Sunday evening, with our heads full of the

past and its remains, we strolled to the mouth of Swamp-bridge brook. As we neared the brow of the hill forming

the bank of the river, inspired by my theme, I

broke forth into an extravagant eulogy on those savage

times, using most violent gesticulations by way of illustration.

"There on Nawshawtuct," said I, "was their

lodge, the rendezvous of the tribe, and yonder, on Clamshell

hill their feasting ground. This was no doubt a

favorite haunt; here on this brow was an eligible look-out

post. How often have they stood on this very spot,

at this very hour, when the sun was sinking behind

yonder woods, and gilding with his last rays the waters

of the Musketaquid, and pondered the day's success

and the morrow's prospects, or communed with the

spirits of their fathers gone before them to the land

of shades!-- -- "Here," I exclaimed, "stood Tahatawan; and there,

(to complete the period,) is Tahatawan's arrowhead"

We instantly proceeded to sit down on the spot I had

pointed to, and I, to carry out the joke, to lay bare an

ordinary stone, which my whim had selected, when lo!

*the first I laid hands on, the grubbing stone that was to

be, proved a most perfect arrowhead, as sharp as if just

from the hands of the Indian fabricator!!!

1842

2 3/19/42

When I walk in the fields of

Concord and meditate on the destiny of this prosperous

slip of the Saxon family--the unexhausted energies of

this new country--I forget that this which is now Concord

was once Musketaquid and that the American

race has had its destiny also. Everywhere in the fields--

in the corn and grain land--the earth is strewn with the

relics of a race which has vanished as completely as if

trodden in with the earth.

I find it good to remember

the eternity behind one as well as the eternity before.

Wherever I go, I tread in the tracks of the Indian-- I

pick up the bolt which he has but just dropped at my

feet. And if I consider destiny I am on his trail. I scatter

his hearthstones with my feet, and pick out of the

embers of his fire the simple but enduring implements

of the wigwam and the chase-- In planting my corn in

the same furrow which yielded its increase to his support

so long--I displace some memorial of him.

I have been walking this afternoon over a pleasant

field planted with winter rye--near the house. Where this

strange people once had their dwelling-place. Another

species of mortal men but little less wild to me than the

musquash they hunted-- Strange spirits--daemons--whose

eyes could never meet mine. With another nature--and

another fate than mine-- The crows flew over the edge

of the woods, and wheeling over my head seemed to

rebuke--as dark winged spirits more akin to the Indian

than I. Perhaps only the present disguise of the Indian--

If the new has a meaning so has the old.

Nature has her russet hues as well as green-- Indeed

our eye splits on every object, and we can as well take

one path as the other-- If I consider its history it is old--

if its destiny it is new-- I may see a part of an object

or the whole-- I will not be imposed on and think nature

is old, because the season is advanced I will study

the botany of the mosses and fungi on the decayed--and

remember that decayed wood is not old,

but has just begun to be what it is. I need not think of

the pine almond or the acorn and sapling when I meet

the fallen pine or oak--more than of the generations

of pines and oaks which have fed the young tree.

The new blade of the corn--the third leaf of the melon--these

are not green but gray with time, but sere in respect

of time.

The pines and the crows are not changed but instead

that Philip and Paugus stand on the plain--here are

Webster and Crockett. Instead of the council-house

is the legislature.

What a new aspect have new eyes

given to the land. Where is this country but in the

hearts of its inhabitants? why, there is only so much

of Indian America left--as there is of the American Indian

in the character of this generation.

Journal 2 (Fall 1842 to Spring 1848)

(based on a search of an electronic version. Many entries in Journal 2 are undated, and many entries from pp. 3-95 were copied from the MS volumes in Journal 1, for use in Thoreau’s first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers [1849]. I’ve given page numbers in Journal 2 as well as dates.)

1842-1844

3 J2, p. 3

These Indian relics in our fields which have preserved

their rugged forms so long are evidence of the vital

energy of the people who made them.

4 J2, pp. 38-40

Everywhere in our corn and grain fields the earth is

strewn with the relics of a race, which has vanished as

completely as if trodden in with the earth-- When I

meditate on the destiny of this prosperous branch of the

Saxon family, and the unexhausted energies of this new

country--I forget that what is now Concord was once

Musketaquid, And that the American race has had its

history-- The future reader of history will associate this

generation with the red man in his thoughts, and give it

credit for some sympathy with that race-- Our history

will have some copper tints at least and be read as through

an Indian summer haze-- But such were not our

reflections

But the Indian is absolutely forgotten but by some

persevering poets. By an evident fate the White man has

commenced a new era. What do our anniversaries

commemorate but white men's exploits? For Indian deeds

there must be an Indian memory--the white man will

remember his own only-- We have forgotten their hostility

as well as friendship. Who can realize that within the

memory of this generation in our last war--the remnant

of an ancient and dusky race of warriors the stockbridge

Indians within the limits of this very state--furnished a

company for the war--on condition only that they should

not be expected to fight white man's fashion--or to

train--but Indian fashion still-- And occasionally their

wigwams are seen on the banks of this very stream still,

like the cabins of the muskrats in the meadow.

They seem like a race who have exhausted the secrets

of nature--tanned with age--while this young and still

fair saxon race--on whom the sun has not long shined,

is but commencing its career.

Wherever I go I am still on the trail of the Indian.-- The

light and sandy soils which the first settlers cultivated

were the Indian corn fields--and with every fresh

ploughing their surface is strewn with the relics of their

race--

Arrow heads--spear heads tomahawks, axes--gouges

--pestles--mortars--hoes pipes of soap-stone, ornaments

for the neck and breast--and other implements of war

and of the chace attract the transient curiosity of the

farmer-- We have some hundreds which we have

ourselves collected.

And one is as surely guided in this search by the

locality and nature of the soil as to the berries in

autumn-- Unlike the modern farmer they selected the

light and sandy plains and rising grounds near to ponds

and streams of water-- --which the squaws could easily

cultivate with their stone hoes. And where these fields

have been harrowed and rolled for grain in the fall--their

surface yields its annual crop arrow heads and other

relics as of grain.-- And the burnt stones on which their

fires were built are seen dispersed by the plow on every

hand.

Their memory is in harmony with the russet hue of

the fall of the year

Instead of Philip and Paugus on the plains here are

Webster & Crockett. Instead of the council house is the

legislature.

5 J2, pp. 56-57

We learned afterward that we had pitched our camp

upon the very spot which a few summers before had been

ocupied by a roving party of Penobscots.-- as if we had

been led by an Indian instinct. We could see rising a few

miles before us a dark conical eminence--called Hooksett

pinnacle a landmark--for boatmen.

6 J2, pp. 58-60

Among others I have picked up a curious spherical

stone--probably an implement of war--like a small paving

stone--about the size of a goose egg--with a groove worn

quite round it--by which it was probably fastened to a

thong or a withe--and answered to strike a severe blow

like a shotted colt.

I have since seen larger ones of the same description

The arrow heads are of every color and of various

forms--and materials--though they are commonly made of

a stone which has a conchoidal fracture. Many small ones

are found made of white quartz which are simple

equilateral triangles--with one side slightly convex.

-- These were probably small shot for birds and

squirrels. Where the arrow heads are found the chips

which were made in manufacturing them are much more

numerous-- Wherever a lodge stood for any length of

time. And these silvers are the surest indication of Indian

ground--since the geologists tell us that this stone is not

to be found in this vicinity.

The spear heads are of the same form and material

only larger.

Some are found as perfect and sharp as ever for time

has not the effect of blunting this stone And when it

breaks it has a ragged edge which makes a worse cut

than steel-- Yet they are so brittle that they can hardly

be carried in the pocket without being broken.

It is a matter of astonishment how the Indians ever

made them with no iron or steel tools to work with-- And

I doubt whether one of our merchants with all the aids

of Yankee ingenuity could soon learn to copy one of the

thousands under our feet. It is well known that the art of

making flints which is best understood in Germany is

only acquired after long practice and then requires

some unusual knack in the operator they being struck out

with a hardened steel chisel--but the arrow-head is of

much more irregular form, and like the flint such is the

nature of the stone, must be struck out by skilful

blows-- A blow of a hammer cracks them into a hundred

pieces.

An Indian to whom I exhibited some--but who like

myself regarded them only as relics of antiquity--suggested

that as white man has one blacksmith who did all the

work for many families-- So Indian had one arrow head

maker-- But the number of chips (or to keep up the

analogy--the cinder heaps) imply too much forges--and

that there must have been as many artists, unless like

the cobblers of old times, the Indian blacksmith0--went

round from wigwam to wigwam--and supplied the wants

of the warrior.

I have seen some from the south seas which were

precisely similar-- So necessary--so little whimsical--and

so important in the history of the human race is this

little tool.

So has the steel hatchet its prototype in the stone one

of the Indian--and the stone hatchet--in the necessities of

man.

Venerable are these ancient arts whose early history is

lost in that of the race itself.

Here too is the pestle and mortar these--ancient forms

and symbols older than the plow or the spade.

The invention of that plow which now turns them up

to the surface marks the era of their burial.

An era which can never have its history--which is

older than the invention of history.

These are relics of an era older than--modern

civilization--compared with which--Greece and Rome--and

Egypt are modern. And the savage retreats and the white

man advances.

I have the following account of some relics in my

possession which were brought from Taunton in Bristol

County. Many a field which had been planted with corn

for many years The sod being broken the wind began to

blow away the soil and then the sand--for several years

until at length it was blown away to the depth of several

feet--where it ceased-- And the ground appeared strewed

with the remains of an Indian village--with regular

circles of stones which formed the foundation of their

wigwams--and numerous implements beside.

[In spring 1838 Thoreau’s brother John sent a box of relics from Taunton, MA, where he was teaching; the pertinent part of Thoreau’s letter in response follows:

Concord, March 17th 1838

Dear John,

Your box of relics came safe to hand, but was speedily deposited on the carpet I assure you. What could it be? Some declared it must be Taunton herrings Just nose it sir. So down we went onto our knees and commenced smelling in good earnest, now horizontally from this corner to that, now perpendicularly from the carpet up, now diagonally, and finally with a sweeping movement describing the entire circumference. But it availed not. Taunton herring would not be smelled. So we e’en proceded to open it vi et chisel. What an array of nails! Four nails make a quarter four quarters a yard,--i faith this is’nt cloth measure. Blow away old boy, clap in another wedge, there!--there! softly she begins to gape-- Just give that old stickler with a black hat on a hoist Aye! he’ll pare his nails for him. Well done old fellow there’s a breathing hole for you “Drive it in,” cries one, “rip it off,” cries another. Be easy I say. What’s done, may be undone Your richest veins don’t lie nearest the surface. Suppose we sit down and enjoy the prospect, for who knows but we may be disappointed? When they opened Pandora’s box, all the contents escaped except hope, but in this case hope is uppermost and will be the first to escape when the box is opened. However the general voice was for kicking the cover-lid off.

The relics have been arranged numerically on a table. When shall we set up housekeeping? Miss Ward thanks you for her share of the spoils, also acept many thanks from your humble servant “for yourself”.]

1845

J2, pp. 156-157

7 7/7/45

I am glad to remember tonight as I sit by my door that

I too am at least a remote descendent of that heroic race

of men of whom there is tradition. I too sit here on the

shore of my Ithaca, a fellow wanderer and survivor of

Ulysses. How Symbolical, significant of I know not what

the pitch pine stands here before my door unlike any

glyph I have seen sculptured or painted yet-- One of

nature's later designs. Yet perfect as her Grecian art.

There it is, a done tree. Who can mend it? And

where is the generation of heroes whose lives are to pass

amid these our northern pines? Whose exploits shall

appear to posterity pictured amid these strong and

shaggy forms?

Shall there be only arrows and bows to go with these

pines on some pipe stone quarry at length.

1845-1846

8 J2, p. 130

Before yet any woodchuck or squirrel has run across the

road--or the sun has got round the corner of the wood

(world) While all the dew was on. My hoe began to

tinkle against the stones of my bean-field-- I heard from

time to time of oratorio's concerts operas in distant

temples but attended none of them--but this was my

oratorio when my steel hoe plate struck against a

pebble--and vibrated some chord of nature--ah it has

dignified the bean grower's live this divine accompaniment

yielding an instant crop-- As I hoed and gathered still

fresher soil about my rows--I disturbed the ashes of

unrecorded nations--whose primeval lives were passed

under these same heavens, and their small implements of

war and hunting and perhaps more ancient hoes--were

brought to the light of this modern day.

1846

September 1846--first trip to Maine

9 J2, p. 290

After dinner we strolled down to the "point--or the

junction of the two rivers--said to be the scene of an

ancient battle between the Eastern Ind. & the Mohawks

and a place still much used by Ind bound up or down the

river for camping. *We grubbed in a small potatoe patch

and found some points of arrowheads and on the shore

some colored beads and one small leaden bullet--but

nothing more remarkable.

10 J2, p. 298

Geo. Mc Causlin has a clearing of several hundred

acres of level intervale at the mouth of the little Schoodic

river a dark and swampy looking beaver-stream This

soil bore the evidence of having been occupied by the

Ind Mc C. having picked up many relics and we looked

for more this afternoon though with slight success

Journal 3 (summer 1848 through 8/20/51)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

1849

11 J3, p. 34

[Between 10/15 and 10/28/49] [T’s first trip to Cape Cod was October 9-15, 1849]

(We saw no savages but we were informed by a very old white man that he could remember when there were a few in this neighborhood, and on the high bank in Truro, looking for traces of them *we picked up an Indian's arrowhead.)

1850

12 J3, p. 56

[Between 4/19 and 4/26/1850]

I visited today an old mill on the shawshine in Bedford said by Shattuck to have been built before Philip's war & to have been owned by Michael Bacon then--& garrisoned by two soldiers at his request--now owned by a Fitch. Fitch the miller son of owner said the original mill had been burnt a great may years ago--but showed us a wall which he thought was as old as the first & many old oak timbers much decayed. His Grandmother there had been a mill there 200 years-- I was most struck by some stairs made of sollid oak timber sawed diagonally the hypothenuse resting on a straight backed oak horse-- The miller thought them a hundred years old at least-- They commanded my respect. old times had stout men. There was an old oak block shaped somewhat like a chair & used as such--its use not now known.-- Also something like a solid wheel barrow wheel of oak, use not known, now

{One-fourth page blank}

used to turn logs on. In a pleasant rocky part of the Shawshine.

Ind corn hills many places are pointed out where the Ind cultivated corn--??

*I found today lying close together as in the hand about a dozen chips of arrow heads & among them one imperfect arrow head about a foot below the surface where an Ind. had sat to make them once--the perfect ones of course were carried off. It was close to the burnt stone's & ashes of an Ind. Lodge. I think that the Ind. cultivated only the very light & sandy soil It frequently happens that where there is at present a desert & the farmers go for sand you will the traces of their wigwams & chip of arrowhead stone & arrowheads--

The oldest monuments of the white settlers hereabouts are probably some dilapited & now undistinguished stone walls--laid long before Philip's war--not houses certainly perhaps not cellars--but old unhonored stone walls & ditches-- But it is difficult to find one well authenticated. I respect a stone wall therefore.

13 J3, p. 91

[Between 7/1 and 7/16/1850]

Sometimes an arrow-head is found with the mouldering shaft still attached-- V. Ch. Hubbard. A little boy from Compton R.I. told me that his father found an arrowhead sticking in a dead tree & nearly buried in it Where is the hand that drew that bow? The arrow shot by the Indian is still found occasionally sticking in the trees of our forest.

[“Ch. Hubbard” may be Charles Hubbard, a Concord farmer.]

14 11/16/50

Nov 16th

I found 3 good arrowheads to-day behind Dennises. The season for them began some time ago as soon as the farmers had sown their winter rye--but the spring after the melting of the snow is still better.

1851

15 2/13/51, J3, p. 191

Again I saw today half a mile off in Sudbury a sandy spot on the top of a hill--where I prophesied that I should find traces of the Indians. When within a dozen rods I distinguished the foundation of a lodge--and *merely passing over it I saw many fragments of the arrowhead stone-- I have frequently distinguished these localities half a mile--gone forward & picked up arrowheads. Examined by the botany All its parts--the first flower I have seen, the ictodes foetidum

Saw in a warm muddy brook in Sudbury--quite open & exposed the skunk cabbage spathes above water-- The tops of the spathes were frostbitten but the fruit sound-- There was one partly expanded-- The first flower of the season--for it is a flower-- I doubt if there is month without its flower.

Also mosses--mingled red & green--the red will pass for the blossom.

As for antiquities-- One of our old deserted country roads marked only by the parallel fences & a cellar hole with its bricks where the last inhabitant died the victim of intemperance 50 years ago with its bare & exhausted fields stretching around-- suggests to me an antiquity greater & more remote from America than the tombs of Etruria.-- I insert the rise & fall of Rome in that parenthesis.

16 5/23/51

Distantly related things are strangely near in fact Perchance this window seat in which we sit discoursing Transcendentalism--with only Germany & Greece--stretching behind our minds--was made so deep because this was a few years ago a garrison house--with thick log walls bullet proof--behind which men sat to escape the wild red man's bullet. & the arrow & the Tomahawk. & bullets fired by Indians are now buried in its walls. Pythagoras seems near compared with them.

17 7/30/51

[trip to Clark’s Island and Plymouth]

The house here stands within a grove of balm of gileads-- horse-chestnuts--cherries apples & plums--&c Uncle bill who lives in his schooner--not turned up Numidian fashion but anchored in the mud--whom I meant to call on yesterday morn--lo! had run over to “The Pines” last evening--fearing an easterly storm. He out rode the great gale in the spring alone in the harbor dashing about-- He goes after rockweed--lighters vessels & saves wrecks-- Now I see him lying in the mud over at the Pines in the horizon. which place he cannot leave if he will till flood tide--but he will not it seems. This waiting for the tide is a singular feature in the life by the shore. In leaving your boat today you must always have reference to what you are going to do the next day. A frequent answer is “Well, you cant start for two hours yet.” It is something new to a landsman--& at first he is not disposed to wait. I saw some heaps of shells left by the Indians near the N end of the Island. They were a rod in diameter & a foot or more high in the middle--& covered with a shorter & greener grass than the surrounding field. found one imperfect arrowhead. At 10 AM sailed to Websters--past Powder point in Duxbury--we could see his land from the island. I was steersman and learned the meaning of some nautical phrases--“luff” to keep the boat close to the wind till the sails begin to flap. ”bear-away” to put the sail more at right angles with the wind. A “close-haul” when the sails are brought & belayed nearly or quite in a line with the vessel.

18 7/31/51

Pilgrim Hall-- They used to crack off pieces of the Forefathers Rock for visitors with a cold chisel till the town forebade it. The stone remaining at wharf is about 7 ft square. Saw 2 old arm chairs that came over in the May flower.-- the large picture by Sargent.-- Standish's sword.-- gun barrel with which Philip was killed-- --mug & pocket-book of Clark the mate-- Iron pot of Standish.-- Old pipe tongs. Ind relics a flayer a pot or mortar of a kind of fire proof stone very hard-- only 7 or 8 inches long. A Commission from Cromwell to Winslow?-- his signature torn off. They talk of a monument on the rock. The burying hill 165 ft high. Manomet 394 ft high by state map. Saw more pears at Washburn's garden. No graves of Pilgrims.

Journal 4 (8/21/51 through 4/27/52)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

19 9/28/51, J4, p. 110

*I picked up two arrow-heads in the field beyond.

20 10/8/51, J4, pp. 132-134

This day is very warm--yet not bright like the last, but hazy. *Picked up an Ind. gouge on Dennis’ Hill. The foliage has lost its very bright tints now--it is more dull--looks dry or as if burnt even-- The very ground or grass is crisped with drought--and yields a crispy sound to my feet. The woods are brownish-- reddish--yellowish merely--excepting of course the evergreens. It is so warm that I am obliged to take off my neck-handkerchief & laborers complain of the heat.

. . .

The puff balls are split open & rayed out on the sand like 5 or 10! fingers The milk weed seeds must be carried far for it is only when a strong wind is blowing that they are loosened from their pods. *An arrowhead at the desert. Spergula Arvensis--Corn- Spurrey (some call it tares) at the acorn tree-- Filled my pockets with acorns. *Found another gouge on Dennis’ Hill. To have found two Ind. gouges and tasted sweet acorns--is it not enough for one afternoon?

1852

21 4/2/52, J4, p. 416

What ails the Pewee’s tail?-- It is loosely hung.-- pulsating with life. What mean these wag tail birds? Cats & dogs too express some of their life through their tails. The bridges are a station at this season-- They are the most advantageous positions. There I would take up my stand morning & evening looking over the water. The Charles Miles run full & rumbling-- The water is the color of ale--here dark red ale over the yellow sand--there yellowish frothy ale where it tumbles down-- Its foam composed of large white bubbles makes a kind of arch over the rill snow white & contrasting with the general color of the stream--while the latter ever runs under it carrying the lower bubbles with it & new ones ever supply their places-- at least 18 inches high this stationary arch. I do not remember elsewhere such highly colored water. It drains a swamp near by & is dry the greater part of the year. Coarse bubbles continually bursting--a striped snake by the spring--& a black one. The grass there is delightfully green--while there is no fresh green anywhere else to be seen-- It is the most refreshing of all colors-- It is what all the meadows will soon be. The color of no flower is so grateful to the eye. Why is the dog black & the grass green? If all the banks were suddenly painted green & spotted with yellow white red--blue purple &c we should more fully realize the miracle of the summer’s coloring-- Now the snow is off it is pleasant to visit the sandy bean fields covered with last years blue curls & sorrel & the flakes of arrowhead stone-- I love these sandy fields which melt the snows & yield but small crops to the farmer.--

. . .

p. 422

We land in a steady rain & walked inland by R Rice’s barn regardless of the storm toward White Pond. Overtaken by an Irishman in search of work. Discovered some new oaks & pine groves and more New Eng. fields. At last the drops fall wider apart--& we pause in a sandy field near the Great Road of the corner where it was agreeably retired & sandy--drinking up the rain-- The rain was soothing--so still & sober--gently beating against & amusing our thoughts--swelling the brooks-- The robin now peeps with scared note in the heavy overcast air--among the apple trees-- The hour is favorable to thought-- Such a day I like a sandy road-- Snows that melt & leave bear the corn & grain fields--with Indian relics shining on them & prepare the ground for the farmer--

22 4/19/52, J4, p. 471

The thing that pleases me most within these three days is the discovery of the andromeda phenomenon-- It makes all those parts of the country where it grows more attractive & elysian to me. It is a natural magic. These little leaves are the stained windows in the cathedral of my world. At sight of any redness I am excited like a cow.-- *To-day you can find arrowheads for every stone is washed bright in the rain.

23 4/21/52, p. 479

Sat under the dark hemlocks--gloomy hemlocks on the hill-side beyond. In a stormy day like this there is the gloom of night beneath them. The ground beneath them almost bare with wet rocks & fine twigs--without leaves (but hemlock leaves) or grass. The birds are singing in the rain about the small pond in front-- The inquisitive chicadee that has flown at once to the alders to reconnoitre as the black birds--the song-sparrow telling of expanding buds. But above all the robin sings here too-- I know not at what distance in the wood. Did he sing thus in Indian days?, I ask myself--for I have always associated this sound with the village & the clearing, but now I do detect the aboriginal wildness in his strain--& can imagine him a woodland bird--and that he sang thus when there was no civilized ear to hear him--a pure forest melody even like the wood thrush. Every genuine thing retains this wild tone--which no true culture displaces-- I heard him even as he might have sounded to the Indian singing at evening upon the elm above his wigwam--with which was associated in the red-man’s mind the events of an Indian’s life.-- his childhood. Formerly I had heard in it only those strains which tell of the white man’s village life--now I heard those strains which remembered the red-man’s life--such as fell on the ears of Indian children.-- as he sang when these arrow-heads which the rain has made shine so on the lean stubble field--were fastened to their shaft. Thus the birds sing round this piece of water-- some on the alders which fringe--some farther off & higher up the hills-- It is a centre to them.

Journal 5 (4/27/1852 through 3/8/1853)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

24 6/7/52, J5, p. 81

Surveying for Sam. Pierce. *Found piece

of an Indian soapstone pot.

[Pierce’s farm was in Lincoln, MA]

25 7/8/52, J5, p. 199

Yesterday I observed the arrow wood

at Saw mill brook remarkably tall straight

and slender. It is quite likely the Indians

made their arrows of it--for it makes

just such shoots as I used to select for

my own arrows--It appears to owe its straightness partly to its rapid growth already 2

feet from the extremities chiefly.

26 7/18/52, J5, p. 231

We land on the left half a

mile above Sherman's bridge--ramble

to the "sand" & poplars--where

*I picked up two arrowheads--

27 12/2/52, J5, p. 402

Left our boat just above the last named bridge on W side. A

bright dazzling sheen for miles on the river as you

looked up it. Crossed the bridge--turned into

a path on the left & ascended a hill a mile

and a half off between us & Billerica--somewhat

off from the river. The Concord affords

the water prospects of a larger river--like the Connecticut even.--hereabouts-- *I found a spear-head, by a mysterious little building. Dined

on the Hill from which we saw Billerac center

a mile and a half northerly. We had crossed

what by the map must be the brook from Nutting Pond.

1853

Journal 6 (3/9/53 through 8/18/53)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

28 1/31/53, J5, p. 461

*--Found an Ind. adze in

the Bridle-Road at the brook

just beyond Daniel Clark Jr's house.

29 3/13/53, J6, pp. 8-9

No sap flows yet from my

hole in the white maple by the bridge--*found

In the Great Fields fragment of Ind--

soapstone ware--which judging from its

thinness for a vestige of the rim remains

was a dish of the form & size of a saucer only

3 times as thick. Listening for early birds

I hear a faint tinkling sound in the leafless

woods as if a piece of glass rattled against

a stone.

30 3/24/53

I find the arrow headed character on

our plains--older than the written

character in Persia.

31 5/28/53, J6, p. 156

What is peculiar now--beginning yesterday--

after the rains--is the sudden

heat--& the more general sound

of crickets by day--and the loud

ringing croak of common toads

& tree toads--at evening & in the

night-- Our river has so little cur-

rent that when the wind has gone

down as at present it is dark &

perfectly smooth & at present dusty

as a stagnant pool in every part

of it--far from there being

any murmur--there is no

ripple nor eddy for the most

part. Hubbard has plowed up

the lowlying field at the bathing

place--and planted it with potatoes--

& now we find that the field we

resort to was equally used by the

Indians--for *their arrow heads are

now exposed by the plow.

32 6/2/53, J6, p. 174

Equicetum limosum out some days

Look for it at Myosotis brook--bottom

of Wheildon's field Side saddle flower--

purple petals(?) now begin to hang down. Arethusas

are abundant in what I may call Arethusa

meadow--they are the more striking for

growing in such green localities in meadows

where their brillant purple more or less

red--contrasts with the green grass.

*Found 4 perfect arrowheads & one imper-

fect in the potatoe field just plowed

up for the first time that I remember

at the Hubbard bathing place. Each hill

of potatoes--(they are now just out of

the ground) has been pushed by

some animal and a great many

of the potatoes planted not long

since abstracted. Some are left

on the surface. Almost every hill

in the field which bounds on the

river has been disturbed. Was it

a muskrat--or a mink--or a wodd

chuck--or a skunk--? the tracks are

of the right size for any of these.

33 6/24/53, J6, p. 241

*Found what I take to be an Indian

hoe at Hubbard bathing place sort of

slate stone 4 or 5/8 inch thick semicir-

cular--8 inches one way by 4 or more the

other--chipped down on the edges--

Journal 7 (8/19/53 through 2/12/54)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

34 9/22/53, J7, p. 97

[trip to Maine]

While the batteau was coming

over to take us from the Island--I

looked round on the shore--*saw many

fragments of arrowhead stone & picked

up one broken chisel.

35 10/26/53

I was surprised when I heard

the Indian language the other

day--it was an evidence of the existence

of an Indian race--so much

more conclusive than the arrowheads I

had found and convinced

me that the Indians were not the

invention of poets-- I heard these red

men speaking a language of which

I did not understand a syllable--as

wild & primitive & purely Indian

as ever. Hearing this brought me

startlingly near to the savage--to King

Philip--& Paugus--who would

have understood it. I sat & heard

Penobscots gossip & laugh & jest

in the language in which Elliots Indian

Bible is written-- The language

which has been spoken in New England

who shall say how long? This sound

these accents at least were as genuine

as the earliest discoverer heard-- These

were the sounds that issued from the

wigwams of this country before Columbus

was born-- With few exceptions

the language of their forefathers is still

copious enough for them.

36 11/9/53, J7, p. 152

*Landed & walked over Conants Indian rye-field & I picked

up 2 good arrowheads-- The river with its

waves has a very wild look Southward & I

see the white caps of the waves in Fair Haven

Bay-- Went into the woods by Holden swamp

& sat down to hear the wind roar amid the

tree tops-- What an incessant straining of

the trees-- It is a music that wears better

than the opera methinks-- This reminds

me how the telegraph wire hummed coarsely

in the tempest as we passed under it.

Hitherto it had only rained a little from

time to time--but now it began suddenly

in earnest-- We hastily rowed across to the

firm ground of Fair Haven Hill side--drew

up our boat & turned it over in

a twinkling--on to a clump of alders

covered with cat briars which kept up

the lee side--and crawled under it.

37 11/29/53 J7, p. 180

J. Hosmer showed me a pestle which his

son had found this summer--while plowing

on the plain bet-- his house & the river-- It

has a rude birds’ head a hawk or eagles

the beak & eyes (the latter a mere prominence) serving for a knob or handle--{drawing} -- It

is affecting as a work of art by

a people who have left so few traces

of themselves--a step beyond the common

arrowhead & pestle & axe-- Something more

fanciful--a step beyond pure utility. As

long as I find traces of works of convenience

merely however much skill they show--I

am not so much affected--as when I

discover works which evince the exercise of

fancy & taste however rude-- It is

a great step to find a pestle whose

handle is ornamented with a bird’s

head knob-- It brings the maker still

nearer to the races which so ornament their

umbrella & cane handles. I have then

evidence in stone that men lived here who

had fancies to be pleased--& in whom the first

steps toward a complete culture were taken-- It

implies so many more thoughts such

as I have-- The arrow-head too suggests a bird--but

a relation to it not in the least god-like-- But

here an Indian has patiently sat

& fashioned a stone into the likeness of a

bird--and added some pure beauty to that

pure utility--& so far has begun to leave behind

him war & even hunting--& to redeem

himself from the savage state. In this

he was leaving off to be savage--enough

of this would have saved him from

extermination.

1854

Journal 8 (2/13/54 through 9/3/54)

(based on a search of an electronic version)

38 3/12/54, J8, p. 40

Now is the season to look for Indian

relics--the sandy fields being just bared--

I stand on the high lichen covered & colored

(greenish) hill beyond Abner Buttrick's--

I go further east & look across the

meadows to Bedford--& see that peculiar

scenery of March--in which I have

taken so many rambles-- The earth

just bare & beginning to be dry--the

snow lying on the N sides of hills--

the gray deciduous trees & the green pines soughing

in the March wind--they look now as

if deserted by a companion--(the snow)

When you walk over bare lichen clad

hills--just beginning to be dry--& look afar

over the blue water on the meadows--

you are beginning to break up your

winter quarters--& plan adventures for

the new year-- The scenery is like--yet unlike

November-- You have the same barren

russet--but now instead of a dry hard

cold wind--a peculiarly soft moist air

or else a raw wind. Now is the reign

of water.

39 5/16/54, J8, p. 125

Landed at Conantum by the red-cherry grove above arrowhead

field the red cherries 6 inches in diameter

25 or 30 high in full bloom--with a reddish

smooth bark.

40 6/9/54

The summer aspect of the river begins perhaps

when the Utricularia vulgaris is first seen

on the surface--as yesterday-- As I go along

the RR causeway-- I see in the cultivated ground

a lark flashing his white tail & showing his hand-

some yellow breast--with its black crescent

like an Indian locket.

. . .

Find the Great fringed orchis

out 2 or 3 days. 2 are almost fully out--

2 or 3 only budded-- A large spike of peculiarly delicate

pale purple flowers growing in the luxuriant

& shady swamp--amid--hellebores--ferns

golden senecios &c &c. It is remarkable

that this one of the fairest of all

our flowers--should also be one of the rarest--

For the most part not seen at all

-- I think that no other but myself in Concord

annually finds it--that so queenly a flower

should annually bloom so rarely & in such

withdrawn & secret places as to be rarely

seen by man. The village belle--never sees

this more delicate belle of the swamp-- How little

relation between our life & its! Most of us

never see it or hear of it. The seasons

go by to us as if it were not-- A beauty

reared in the shade--of a convent--who

has never strayed beyond the convent bell.

Only the skunk or owl or other inhabitant

of the swamp beholds it. In the damp twilight

of the swamp--where it is wet to the feet--

How little anxious to display its attractions.

It does not pine because man does not

admire it. How independent on our race!

It lifts its delicate spike amid the hellebore

& ferns in the deep shade of the swamp--

-- I am inclined to think of it as a relic of

the past as much as the arrowhead--

*or the tomahawk I found on the 7th ult. [Thoreau refers to June 7; the Journal entry of that date makes no mention of finding a tomahawk.]

(J8, p. 184)

41 6/13/54, J8, p. 191

Stopped to pick strawberries on

Fair Haven. When I have staid out thus

till late many miles from home--& have

heard a cricket beginning to chirp louder near me

in the grass-- I have felt that I was not far

from home after all-- Began to be weaned

from my village home. There is froth on alders

which comes off onto my clothes. I see over the

bream nests little schools of countless minute

minnows can they be the young breams? The breams

being still in their nests. It is surprising how thickly

strewn our soil is with arrow heads-- I never

see the surface broken in sandy places but I

think of them-- *I find them on all sides--

not only in corn & grain & potatoe & bean fields

--but in pastures and woods--by woodchucks

holes--& pigeon beds--and as to night--

in a pasture where a restless cow had pawed

the ground. I float home-ward over water

almost perfectly smooth--yet not methinks

as in the fall--my sail so idle that I count

10 devils needles resting along it at once.

42 8/21/54

Brought home a great

Euptorium Purpureum from Miles' swamp--

(made species fistulosum by Barratt. It is 10 1/2

feet high & I inch in diameter--said to grow to 12 feet.

The corymb, 18 1/2 inches wide X 15 inches deep. The

largest leaves 13 X 3 inches. The stem hollow through-

out-- This I found to my surprise when I undertook

to make a flute of it trusting it was closed at the

leaves--but there is no more pith there than else-

where-- It would serve many purposes as a water

pipe &c Prob. the Indians knew it & used. They might

have blowed arrows through a straight one-- It would

yeild an available hollow tube 6 feet long.

(The following passages will appear in Journal 9: 1854-1855 through Journal 16: 1860-1861. I collected them by searching an electronic version of our transcripts of the manuscripts on which those volumes will be based.)

43 11/22/54 [in New York City, on the way home from lecturing in Philadelphia]

Saw at museum some large flakes

of cutting arrowhead stone made into a

sort of wide cleavers--also a hollow

stone tube prob from mounds.

[This was probably Barnum’s American Museum. It burned on July 13, 1865. The NYT account of the fire included a description of the attractions: “There was also there a very large collection of Indian curiosities -- bows, arrows, stone-heads, poisoned shafts, &c., besides one of the twenty clubs with which Capt. COOK was possibly killed.” Link from Wikipedia, “Barnum's American Museum”]

1855

44 1/7/55

The delicious soft spring-suggesting

air--how it fills my veins with life

-- Life becomes again credible to me–-

A certain dormant life awakes

in me--& I begin to love nature again.

Here is my Italy--my heaven--my New

England. I understand why the Indians

hereabouts placed heaven in the SW–-

The Soft South. On the slopes the

ground is laid bare & radical

leaves revealed--crowfoot--shep-

herds purse--clover &c a fresh green

& in the meadow the skunk cabbage

buds--with a bluish bloom--& the reddish

leaves of the meadow saxifrage & these

the many withered plants laid bare

^remind me of spring & of botany.

*On the same bare sand is revealed a

new crop of arrowheads-- I pick up

2 perfect ones of quartz, sharp as if

just from the hands of the maker.

45 2/21/55

March days. How much light there is

in the sky & on the surface of the russet

earth--! It is reflected in a flood

from all cleansed surfaces--which

rain & snow have washed--from the

rail-road rails & the mica in the rocks--

& The silvery latebrae of insects there

^& I never saw the white houses of the

Now look for an early crop of arrowheads--for they will shine

village more brightly white.

46 3/2/55

Returning over Great Fields--*found half

a dozen arrowheads--one with 3 scallops

in the base {drawing}

47 3/6/55

Since then colder--with increasing wind--& some--

clouds--with last night some rain.

The sands are too dry & light-colored to show arrow heads so well now--

I see many places where after the late freshet

the musquash made their paths under

the ice--leading from the water a rod or

the

two to a bed of grass above water level.

48 7/31/55

*[J Farmer] Found lately on his sand 2 arrow heads & close

by, a rib, & a shoulder blade & knee pan? he thinks

of an Indian.

49 9/30/55

Sep 30th Sunday-- Rode with R. to Sassa-

Cowens Pond--in the North part of

New Bedford--So called from an Indian

on the Taunton road. Called also Toby's

Pond from Jonathan Toby who lives

famous

close by--who has a^lawsuit about

a road he built to Taunton years ago

which he has not yet paid for-- In

which suit, he told us, he had spent

30000 dollars--employed Webster--

Toby Toby said the pond was called

from the last of the Indians who

100 or 150 yrs ago

lived there^--& that you can still see

his cellar hole &c on the west side

of the pond. We saw floating in

the pond the bottom of an old log-

canoe--the sides rotted off. &

some great bleached trunks of trees

washed up-- *Found two quartz arrow-

heads on the neighboring fields.

. . .

Returning we crossed the

Acushnet River where it took its rise

coming out of a swamp-- Looked

for arrow heads in a field where were

many quahog, oyster, scollop--clam--

& winkle, (pyrula) shells--prob. brought

by the Whites 4 or 5 miles from the salt

Also saw these in places which Indians had frequented

water--^Went into an old deserted

. . .

Arthur Ricketson showed me in his collection

what was ap.(?) an Indian mortar--

which had come from Lampsons in

dark

Middleborough. It was a^granite like

stone some 10 inches long by 8 wide &

4 thick with a regular round cavity

worn in it 4 inches in diameter & 1 1/2 deep

--also a smaller one opposite on the

other side

10/2/55

The arrowheads hereabouts are commonly

white quartz.

50 10/1/55

Arthur R has a soap stone pot (Indian)

about 9 inches long more than an inch thick

{drawing} with a kind of handle at the

ends.--or protuberances.

51 12/27/55

Kept Town School

a fortnight in '37 (?)-- Began the

Big Red Journal Oct '37-- Found

first arrowheads Fall of '37--. Wrote a Lecture

it before the Lyceum in the Mason's Hall--

Ap. 11th '38--

1856

52 4/14/56

I still find small turtles eggs on the surface

entire--while looking for arrowheads by

the Island.

53 5/25/56

May 25th

10 Am To Fair H. Pond with Blake & Brown--

*I found 5 arrowheads at Clam Shell

Hill.

6/24/56

There was a beech wood at the west

end--where R's son Walton found

an arrowhead when they were here before

& the hemlocks resounded with

the note of the tweezer bird--S. Americana

54 6/28/56

June 28th

Lamium amplexicaule still out behind

R's shanty-- *I picked up 2 arrow heads

amid oyster & clamshells by a rock

at the head of the creek opposite Rs.

One was of peculiar form quite blunt

& small--thus--{drawing} of quartz--

ap to knock over small game without

breaking the skin.

55 7/21/56

These hot afternoons I go panting through

the close sproutlands & copses--as now from

Cliff Brook to Wheeler Meadow--& occasionally

come to sandy places a few feet in diameter

where the partridges have dusted themselves--.

Gerard the Lion Killer of Algiers speaks

of seeing similar spots when patien tracking

& his truth in this particular is a confirmation of the rest of his story

or patiently waiting the lion--there ^ -- It is inter-

But his pursuit dwarfs this fact & makes it seem trivial. Shall ^ not my pursuit also

esting to find that the same phenomena, however

contrast with the trivialness of the partridge’s dusting?

simple, recur in different parts of the globe.

I have found an arrow head or 2 in such

places even. Far in warm sandy woods

in hot weather--when not a breath

of air is stirring. I come upon these

still sandier and warmer spots where

the partridges have dusted themselves--&

now all still a deserted

^ am not relieved--yet pleased to find

that I have been preceded by any creature.

56 8/12/56

*An arrow head in Peter’s path-- How

many times I have found an arrowhead

by that path, as if that had been an Ind-

trail. Perchance it was--for some of

The paths we travel are much older than

we think--especially some which the

colored race in our midst still use--

for they are nearest to the Ind. trails.

57 9/3/56

*Capt. Hub. said on Sunday that he had

plowed up an Indian gouge--but how

little an impression that had make on him com-

pared with the rotting of his cranberries--

or the loss of meadow grass. It seemed to

me that it made an inadequate impression

compared with many trivial events. Suppose

he had plowed up 5 dollars!

1857

58 2/8/57

*The ground is so bare that I gathered

a few Indian relics.

59 3/27/57

A sunny day but rather cold air--

8 1/2 Am up Assabet-–in boat-- At last I

push myself gently through the smooth & sunny

water sheltered by the Island woods & hill-–where

I listen for birds &c-- There I may expect to hear

a woodpecker tapping the rotten aspen There I

pause to hear the faint voice of some early bird amid

the twigs of the still woodside. You are pretty sure

to hear a woodpecker early in the morning–-over these

still waters-- But now chiefly there comes home on the

breeze the tinkle of the song–sparrow along the

river side & I push out with wind & current--

Leave the boat & run down to the white maple

wht

by the bridge-- The ^ maple is well out with its

white stamens on the Southward boughs-–& prob.

began about the 24th-- That would be about 15 days earlier than

last year–-

*I find a very regular elliptical rolled stone–-in the

(last fall)

freshly ^ ploughed low ground there evidently brought

from some some pond or seaside. It is about 7 inches

long. The Indians prized such a stone & I have found

many of them where they haunted-- Commonly one or

both ends will be worne showing that they have used it

as a pestle or hammer--

60 4/10/57

There was an old gun hardly safe

to fire--said to be loaded with an in-

extractable charge--& also an old

sword over the door--also a tin sign

“D. Ricketson’s Office” (he having set

up for a lawyer once) & a small crum-

pled horn there-- I counted more than

20 rustic canes scattered about--a

dozen or 15 pipes of various patterns

mostly the common--2 spy glasses--an

open paper of tobacco--An Indians {jaw}

dug up--a stuffed blue-jay & pine gross-

beak & a rude Indian stone hatchet--

61 6/21/57

[at Cape Cod]

I sat down on the boundless level & enjoyed the solitude

drank it in-- The medicine for which I

had pined--worth more than the bear berry

so common on the Cape. As I was

sandy

approaching the bay through a ^ hollow

a mile this E of High Head, *I found 2

or 3 arrow points and a rude axe or ham-

mer--a flattish stone from the beach

with a deep groove chipped around it.

62 7/5/57

July 5th

Am--to Lees Cliff by boat--

Potentilla arguta abundantly out--

partridges big as quails *At Clam Shell

I found 3 arrowheads & a small

Ind. chisel for my guests. Rogers

determined the rate of the boat's progress

by his second hand

by observing ^ how long the boat was going

its length past a weed pad--calling

the boats length so much.

63 7/24/57

[Allegash trip]

Jackson in his report on the Geology of

maine in 1838 says of this mt--"Horn-stone,

which will answer for flints, occurs in various

parts of the State, where trap rocks have acted

upon silicious slate. The largest mass of

this stone known in the world is Mount

Kineo, upon the Moosehead lake, which ap-

pears to be entirely composed of it, and rises

700 feet above the lake level. This variety

of hornstone I have seen in every part of New

England in the form of Indian arrow{-}heads,

hatchets, chisels, &c. which were probably ob-

tained from this mountain by the aboriginal

%I have myself found at least 1000 made of the same material%

inhabitants of the country."%^% It is generally

slate colored with--white specks--becoming

uniformly white where exposed to the light

& air--and it breaks with a conchoidal

fracture--producing a ragged cutting

edge-- *I noticed some conchoidal hollows

more than a foot over-- I picked up a

small thin piece of stone which had so

sharp an edge--that I used it as

a dull knife--& fairly cut off an

with it

aspen 1 inch thick ^ by bending it &

making many cuts--though I cut my

fingers badly with the back of it in the

mean while.

64 7/30/57

Indians had recently camped there

& sat burned over the western End of the

island. We also saw where they had made canoes

in a little secluded hollow in the woods{--}

also where they would be out of the wind

on the top of the rock-- This must have

been a favorite resort for them anciently--

& we found here the point of an arrowhead

such as they have not used for 2 centuries.

& now know not how to make. P. picking

up a stone remarked to me “that

very strange lock (rock)” It was

a piece of hornstone probably brought there

by this tribe centuries before to make arrowheads

of--

65 8/7/57

Pm Rode to Old Fort Hill

at the bend of the Penobscot some 3 miles

above Bangor--to look for the site of the

Ind. town--

*Found several arrowheads--& 2 little dark

& crumbling fragments of Ind. earthen ware

--like black earth{!} q.v.

[back in Concord August 8]

66 8/24/57

Am Ride to Austin Bacon’s Natic--

. . .

On the N E base of this hill Bacon pointed

out to me what he called Ind. corn hills.

in heavy moist pasture ground--where

had been a pine wood--the hillocks were

4 ft apart

in singular rows--which ran along the

side of the hill, & were much larger than

you would expect after this lapse of time.

I was confident that if Indian, they

could not be very old--perhaps not more

than a century or so--for such could

never have been made with the ancient

Ind. hoes--clamshells--stones--or the

like, but with the aid of plows & white

men’s hoes-- Also pointed out to me what

he thought the home site of an Ind. squaw

marked by a Buck thorn bush--by the wall

These hillocks--were like tussocks with

lichens thick on them--& B thought

that the rows were not running as

a white man with furrow--

67 10/22/57

There is scarcely a square rod of sand

exposed in this neighborhood, but you

may find in it the stone arrowheads

of an extinct race-- {Far} back as that

time seems when men went armed with

bows & pointed stones here--yet so nu-

merous are the signs of it. The finer par-

ticles of sand are blown away & the arrow-

point remains-- The race is as clean gone

(from here) as this sand is clean swept

by the wind. Such are our antiquities--

These were our predecessors-- Why then

make so great ado about the Roman

& the Greek & neglect the Indian?

We not wander off with boys in our

imaginations to Juan Fernandez, to

wonder at a footprint in the sand

there-- Here is a point still more signifi-

cant at our doors--the print of a

race that has preceeded us, & this

{drawing} the little symbol that

Nature has transmitted to us. Yes this

arrow headed character is probably more

ancient than any other--& to my mind

it has not been decyphered.

1858

68 3/5/58

Mar 5

Went to hear a Chippeway Indian, a

Mung--somebody

Doctor ^--(assisted by a Penobscot, who said

nothing.) He made the audience

laugh unintentionally by putting an

and almost after this word alone

m after the word too ^ which he brought

in continually & unnecessarily--empha-

sising & prolonging that sound as

“They carried them home too m- -a-h”

as if it were a necessity for bringing

in so much of the Indian language

to his organs

for a relief--^ or a compensation

for “twisting his jaws about” as he said

in his attempts to speak English--

so Polis & the Penobscots--continually

put the um or em to our words.

as padlum littlum &c There was

so much of unsubdued Indian

accent resounding through his speech

so much of the bow-arrow tang-- I have

no doubt it was a great relief to him

& seemed the word best pronounced.

He thought his ancestors came from

Asia--& was sure that Bhering’s Strait

was no obstacle--since Indians or his

tribe cross Lake Huron & Superior in

birch bark canoes. Thought Indians

might be Jews because of a similarity

of customs-- When a party of his

warriors which to tell an advanced

concealed

party ^ in ^ a dangerous position to retreat

they shoot an arrow close past them--

if to stay they shoot an arrow over

exactly

their heads--& ^ this he declared the Jews

did. I inferred from his statement that

the totem (a deer in his case) takes

the place of the sirname with us. for

he said that his {post} children would

have the same totem. He did not use this

word.-- Said they had a secret

paternity like the masonic--by which

they knew & befriended members anywhere--

Had some ornaments of snake skins

4 or 6 inch broad with a bead edging--broad belts--

^ worn diagonally across the breast--

or for a garter--or for a very large & broad

string handle to a bag, passing round the

neck--also an otter skin pouch--

The bead left {on} was evidently very convenient

as well as important--to hold it when caught

under the belt-- It was thus very quickly re-

turned to its place. Had head feet & all.

Had on an eagle-feather cap--i.e. a

black

band with long ^ eagles feathers {strand} from

it--this not worn every day-- A buffaloe

blanket

skin ^ worked with porcupine quills--

Showed the cradle-- The mother cuts a

notch in the lower end for each day that passes

& one at the top for each moon. If it

falls into the water it floats on this--

said the first poetry made at Plymouths--

was suggested by the sight of this cradle swinging

from a tree. viz Rock a by baby &

Exhibited very handsome birch-bark

trays--ornamented with moose hair in-

in the false bottom & side

worked ^ representing strawberries &--very well-- Only

the white hair was not dyed. These were

made without communication with the whites--

The place the feet of the child in

the cradle straight or as they would have

them-- Ind. step with the feet straight

but whites who toe out--seem to have

no use for any toes but the great

one in walking. Ind. woven{s} are brought

up to toe in-- It is improper for them to

through a blow gun

toe out. Shot small arrows very

straight at an apple arod off--lodging

them all in it-- The gun was of elder

with the pith out about six feet long,

The arrows quite slender of hard wood

with a large & dense cylindrical mass

of common thistle down at what is Com-

monly the feathered end.

The Penobscot who chanced to be Joe

Polis brother, told me that the She-cor-

way of the maine lakes was the Shell-

drake & that when they call out

the moose at night they imitate the

voice of the Cow moose-- That of the

bull is very different.

The former carried the cradle low down on

his back with a strap round his head--& showed

how the mother could had both hands

free & could chop wood &c with her infant

on her back-- The same blanket covered

both if necessary--& the child was prevented

from being smothered by the bow over its face holding

He regretted that their marriage customs

up the blanket. were not so good as ours--that they did not choose

for themselves but their parents for them

We read the English poets--we study

botany & zoology--& Geology--lean

an dry as they are--& it is rare that we

get a new suggestion-- It is ebb tide with

the scientifi reports Prof-- in the chair

we would fain know something more about

these sto animals & stones & trees around us.

We are ready to skin the animals alive

to come at them. Our scientific names

convey a {very} partial information only--

they suggest certain thoughts only--

It does not occur to me that there are

other names for most of these objects

given by a people who stand between

me & them--who had better senses than

our race-- How little I know of that

arbor-vitae--when I have learned only what

science can tell me-- It is but a word

tree

It is {not}a thing of life-- But there are

20 words for the tree & its different parts which

the Indian gave--which are not in our

more

botanies--which imploy a ^ practical

& vital science. He used it every day--

He was well acquainted with its wood--& its

bark--& its leaves. No science does

more than arrange what knowledge

we have of any class of objects-- But

generally speaking how much more con-

versant was the Indian with any wild

animal or plant than we are--and in

his language is implied all that

intimacey as much as ours is expressed in

How many words in our language about the moose--or birch bark! & The like

our language-- ^ The Indian stood

nearer to wild-nature than we. The wildest

& noblest

^quadrupeds--even the largest fresh water

fishes Some of the wildest & noblest birds--

actually

& the fairest-flowers--have ^ receded

as we advanced--& we have but the

most distant knowledge of them--

a rumor has come down to us that

the skin of a lion was seen & his

roar heard here by an early settler--

But there was a race here that slept on

his skin. It was a new light when

my guide gave me Indian names for

things, for which I had only scientific

ones before. In proportion as I under-

stood the language I saw them from

a new point of view.

A dictionary of the Ind. language reveals

an other & wholly new life to us-- Look

at the wood Canoe--& see what a story

it tells of out-door life--with the names

of all its parts & modes of {using} it--

as our words describing the different parts

of a crack-- or at the word wigwam &

see how close it brings you to the ground--

or Indian Corn & see which race was

most familiar with it.-- It reveals

to me a life within a life--or rather a

life without a life--as it were threading

still

the words between our towns,^ & yet we can

never tread in its trail. The Indians’

earthly life was as far off from us

as heaven is.

69 3/18/58

But ah! the needles of the pine,

as I look down over the Holden wood & westward

how they shine! ^ Every third tree is lit with

the most subdued but clear etherial light--

as if it were the most delicate frost work

in a winter morning--reflecting no heat but

only light-- And as they rock & wave in the

strong wind even a mile off--the light

courses up & down them as over a field of

grain--i.e. they are alternately light & dark

--like looms above the forest--when the

shuttle is thrown between the light woof & the

{weaving} a light article spring goods for Nature to wear.

dark web-- ^ At sight of this my spirit

is like a lit tree. It runs or flashes over

their parallel boughs as when you play

with the teeth of a comb-- The pine tops

wave like squirrels’ tails flashing in the air

Not only osiers--but pine needles methinks

Anacreon noticed the same

shine in the spring--& arrow heads--& RR. rails-- ^ &c &c.

--Is it not the higher sun--& cleansed air--& greater

There is a warmer red to the leaves of

animation of nature? The Shrub oak & to the tail of the hawk

circling over them--

70 3/20/58

I had noticed from the Cliff by Lees road--

an elevated sandy point above Pole Brook

which I said must be Indian ground--*& walking

there I found a piece of a soap-stone pot.

In the sluice way of Pole Brook--by the

road just beyond I found another kind of Ind. pot

It was an eel-pot(?) or creel--a wattled basket--

or wicker-work--made of willow osiers {of} with

the bark on--very artfully-- It was about

4 fet long & shaped thus-- About a dozen (or

{drawing} Moore says that he used to find them in the

brooks when he was trout fishing stopping them

up so closely with sticks & stones on the sides that not

a trout could pass--& he would cut them

from end to end with his knife.

more) willow sticks as {bid} as { } finger--or larger

being set small end down--in a circle in a

thin round board which made the bottom

& then smaller osiers interwoven at right

angle with them--close & firm-- Another

funnel shaped basket--was secured within

this--extending about half way down {in it}--as

represented by the dotted lines--with a now opening

hardly 2 inches wide at the bottom--where only

a dozen sharper sticks approached each other.

There was a square door in the board bottom

by which the fishes could be taken out-- This

was set in that sluice way--with the mouth

or broad end down stream all sunk beneath

the surface-- This fishes being now evidently.

running up the brooks from the {p} river & ponds //

the ice being mostly gone out of the meadows &

brooks. We raised this and found 8 or 10 small

pickerel in it--the biggest a foot long--&

1 good sized perch. It was pleasant to find

that any were practising such {cunning} art

in the outskirts. I am not sure whether

this insertion is Indian--or derived from

our own ancestors-- Creel appears to be an

old English word-- But I have no doubt

that the Ind. used something very like this--

How much more we might have learned of the Aborigines

if they had not been so reserved-- Suppose they had

generally become the laboring class among

the whites--that my father had been a farmer

& had an Indian for his hired man--how many

aboriginal ways we children should have

learned from them!

71 9/21/58

Go to Cape Ann

A very warm day

Am Go with Russell to the rooms

of the Essex Institute--if that is the

name. See some In. pottery from the

{Cayuga} Reservation--fragments. very

pale brick color 3/8 inch thick with a

rude ornament--(ap. made with the end of

a stick--) of this form & size {drawing}

The lines representing slight hollows in a row around it--

Saw a stone--ap. slate--shaped

like the small “sinkers” but 6 inch x

3 1/2 with a small handle--{drawing}. found near

here--was it a sinker or pestle?

On the 24th at the E. Ind. Marine Hall

about

saw a circular stone mortar ^ 6 inch in

diameter--& a stone exactly like the above

in it--described as a pestle & mortar found

in making Salem Turnpike. Were they together?

Also at the last place--what was called

the blade of an Ind. knife found on

Gov. Endicott’s Farm--broken 3 or 4 inches

long--of a light colored kind of slate--

quite thin with a back. {drawing}

It might have been for skinning.

72 10/15/58

*On the sandy slope of the cut close by the

pond-- I notice the chips, which some Indian

fletcher has made-- Yet our poets & philosophers

regret that we have no antiquities in America--

no ruins to remind us of the past--

Hardly can the wind blow away the

surface anywhere exposing the spot-

less sand--even though the thickest

woods have recently stood there--but

these little stone chips, made by these

some aboriginal fletcher are revealed--

With them too--this time (as often) I

find the white man(s arm--a comel

conical bullet--still marked by the

groove of the rifle--which has been

roughened or rucked up like a thimble

on the side by which it struck the sand--

As if by some explained sympathy &

attraction the Indians & the white man(s

arrow-head sought the same grave at

last.

1859

73 3/13/59

On the N. E part of the Great Fields I

find the broken shell of a { } C. Blandingii

--on very dry soil-- This is the 5th then

I have seen in the town All the rest were 3

in the Great meadows (one of them in a ditch) &

1 within a rod or 2 of Beck Stow’s Swamp.

It is remarkable that the spots where

I find most arrowheads &c being light

dry soil--(as the Great Fields--Clam-

shell Hill--&c) are among the first

to be bare of snow--& the frost gets out

there first. It is very curiously & particu-

larly true--for the only parts of the

N. E section of the Great Fields which

are so dry that I do not slump there--

are those small in area--when perfectly

bare patches of sand occur--and then singularly

enough the arrowheads are particularly

common-- Indeed in some cases I find them

only on such bare spots a rod or 2 in extent

where a single wig wam might have stood--

& not half a dozen rods off in any direction

Yet the difference of level may not be

more than a foot--(if there is any).

It is as if the Indians had selected precise-

ly the driest spots on the whole plain with

a view to their advantage at this season--

If you were going to pitch a tent tonight

on the great fields you would inevitably

pitch on one of these spots--or else lie down

in water or mud--or on ice. It is as if they

had chosen the sight of their wig wams at

this very season of the year.

74 3/17/59

If I land now on any knoll which is

left dry above the flood--an island in

the meadow--& its surface is broken I am

pretty sure to find Ind. relics. They pitcht

their wigwams on these highest places--near water.

75 3/23/59

The prospect thence is a fine one, especially

at this season when the water is high- The

water is landscape is very agreeably diversified

with hill & vale & meadow--& cliff-- As we

look SW how attractive the shores of russet

capes & peninsulas laved by the flood!

Indeed that large tract E of the bridge

is now an island-- How fair that low

undulating russet land! At this season

and under these circumstances--the

sun just come out & the flood high around

it--russet--so reflecting the light of the

sun appears to me the most agreeable of

colors--& I begin to dream of a russet fairy-

land & elysium. How dark & terrene must be green--

but this smooth russet surface reflects almost

all the light. That broad & low but firm

island--with but few trees to conceal the

contour of the ground & its outline--with

its fine russet sward--firm & soft as velvet--

reflecting so much light--all the undulations

of the earth its nerves & muscles revealed by the

light & shade--& even the sharper ridgy edge

of steep banks where the plow has heaped up

the earth from year to year-- This is a sort

of fairy land & elysium to my eye-- The island

tawny couchant island! Dry land for the

Indian’s wigwam in the spring--& still strewn

with his arrow-points-- The sight of such

land reminds me of the pleasant spring days

in which I have walked over such tracts looking

for these relics. How well too this smooth

firm light reflecting tawny earth contrasts

with the darker water which surrounds it

-or perchance lighter sometimes. At this

season when the russet colors prevail--the

contrast of water & land is more agreeable

to behold-- What an inexpressibly soft curving

line is the shore--! and if the water is per-

fectly smooth & yet rising-- you seem

to see it raised 1/8 of an inch with swelling

lip above the immediate shore it kisses as

in a cup--or the of a saucer--

Indian isles & promontories-- Thus we sit on

that rock--hear the first wood-frog’s croak

& dream of a russet elysium-- Enough

for the season is the beauty there of-- Spring

has a beauty of its own--which we would

not exchange for that of summer--and

at this moment--if I imagine the fairest

earth I can it is still russet--such

is the color of the blessed isles-- & they are

surrounded with the phenomena of spring.

76 3/28/59

Mar 28

Pm Paddle to the Bedford line--

It is now high time to look for

arrowheads &c-- I spend many hours

every spring gathering the crop with the

melting snow & rain have washed bare--

When at length some island in the

meadow or some sandy field elsewhere

has been plowed perhaps for rye in the fall

I take note of it, & do not fail to

repair thither as soon as the earth begins

to be dry in the spring. If the spot chances

never to have been cultivated before--I am

the first to gather a crop from it-- The

farmer little thinks that another reaps

a harvest which is the fruit of his

toil-- As much ground is turned up in a

day by the plow as Indian implements

could not have turned over in a month--

& my eyes rest on the evidences of an

aboriginal life which passed here a

thousand years ago perchance-- Especially

if the knolls in the meadows are washed

by a freshet where they have been plowed the

previous fall--the soil will be taken away

lower down & the stones left--the

arrowheads &c--& soapstone pottery

amid them.--some what as gold

is washed in a dish–-or tom--

*I landed on 2 spots this Pm &

picked up a dozen arrowheads--

It is one of the regular pursuits of the

spring. As much as sportsmen go in

pursuit of ducks--& gunners of musquash

and scholars of rare books--and travellers

of adventures & poets of ideas-- & all

men of money--I go in search of

arrowheads when the proper season comes

round again-- So I help myself to live

worthily--& loving my life as I should--

It is a good collyrium to look on the

bare earth--to pore over it so much--

getting strength to all your senses like An-

taeus-- If I did not find arrowheads I

might perchance begin to pick up crockery

fragments of

& { }^pipes--the relics of a more recent

man-- Indeed you can hardly name

an more innocent or wholesome enter-

tainment. As I am thus engaged--I hear

the rumble of the bowling alley thunder

which has begun again in the village.

It comes before the earliest natural

thunder-- But what its lightning is

& what atmospheres it purifies I do

not know. Or I might collect the

various bones which I come across

They would make a museum

that would delight some owen--at last

& what a text they might furnish me

for a course of lectures on human

life or the like-- I might spend my

days collecting the fragments of pipes

until I found enough after all my search

to compose one perfect pipe when laid

together.

I have not decided whether I had better

publish my experience in searching for

with plates & an index

arrowheads in 3 volumes--^ or try to compress

it into one. These durable implements

seem to have been suggested to the In-

dian mechanic--with a view to my

entertainment in a succeeding period.

After all the labor expended on --

the bolt may have been shot but once

perchance--& the shaft which was

devoted to it decayed--& there lay the

arrowhead sinking into the ground--awaiting

me-- They lie all over the hills with

like expectation--and in due time the

husbandman is sent--& tempted by

the promise of corn or rye--he plows

the land & turns them up to my view.

Many as I have found--methinks the

last one gives me about the same delight

that the first did. Some time or

often, you would say, it had rained

arrowheads for & they lie all over

the surface of America. You may have

your peculiar tastes--certain localities

in your town may seem from association

unattractive & uninhabitable to you--

You may wonder that the land {bears}

any money value there & pity {some}

poor fellow who is said to survive

in that neighborhood-- But plow

up a new field there--and you

will find the omnipresent arrowpoints

strewn over it--& it will appear

that the red man with other tastes

& associations lived there too.

No matter how far from the modern

road or meeting house, no matter how

near-- They lie in the meeting house

cellar--& they lie in the distant

cow pasture-- And some collections

which were made a century ago by the

curious like myself have been dispersed

again--& they are still as good as new--

You can not tell the 3rd hand ones (for

they are all 2nd hand) from the others.

Such is their persistent out of door

durability-- For they were chiefly

made to be lost-- They are sown like

a grain that is slow to germinate broad

cast over the earth-- Like the dragons

teeth which bore a crop of soldiers--these

bear crops of philosophers & facts--& the

same seed is just as good to plant again.

It is a stone fruit. Each one yields

{ } a thought. I come nearer to the maker

of it than if I found his bones-- His bones

would not prove any wit that wielded

them--such as this work of his bones does--

It is humanity inscribed on the face of the

earth--patent to my eyes--as soon as the

snow goes off--not hidden away in some

cript--or grave--or under a pyramid--

No disgusting mummy--but a clean

stone--the best symbol or letter that

could have been transmitted to me-- The

Red Man--his mark {drawing}! at

every step I see it--& I can easily supply

the Tahitawan or Mantatukets that

might have been written if he had had

a clerk-- It is no single inscription

on a particular rock--but a footprint

--rather a mind print--left every where

& altogether illegible-- No vandals

however vandalic in their disposition can

be so industrious as to destroy them

Time will soon destroy the works of

famous painters & sculptors--but

the Indian arrow head will balk his

efforts & Eternity will have to come to his

aid. They are not fossil bones--but

as it were fossil thoughts--forever re-

minding me of the mind that shaped them.

I would fain know that I am treading

in the tracks of human game--that I

am on the trail of mind--& those

little reminders never fail to set me

right-- When I see these signs I know

that the subtle spirits that made

them are not far off into whatever

form transmuted-- What if you do

plow & hoe amid them--& swear that

not one stone shall left upon another--

They are only the less like to break in that

case-- When you turn up one layer

you bury another so much the more

securely-- They are at peace with rust--

This arrowheaded character promises

to out last all others-- the larger pestles

& axes may perchance grow scarce &

be broken--but the arrowhead shall

perhaps never cease to wing its way through

the ages to eternity. It was originally

winged for but a short flight--but

it still to my minds eye wings its way thro

the ages bearing a message from the

hand that shot it-- Myriads of arrow

points lie sleeping in the skin of the re-

volving earth--while meteors revolve

in the space-- The footprint--the mind-

print of the oldest men-- When some vandal

chieftain has razed to the earth the

British Museum & perchance the winged

bulls from Nineveh shall have lost

most if not all of their features--

the arrowheads which the museum

contains will perhaps find themselves

at home again in familiar dust--

& resume their shining in new

springs upon the bared surface of

the earth then--& be picked up for

the thousandth time by the shephard

or savage that may be wandering there--

& once more suggest their story to him.

Indifferent they to British museums--&

no doubt Nineveh bulls are old acquain-

tances of theirs--for they have camped

on the plains of Mesopotamia too--

& were buried with the winged bulls.

They cannot be said to be lost nor

found. Surely their use was not so

much to bear its fate to some bird

or quadruped--or man--as it was to

lie here near the surface of the earth

for a perpetual reminder to the generations

that come after-- As for museums

I think it is better to let Nature take

care of our antiquities-- These are our--

antiquities & they are cleaner-- to think

of than the rubbish of the Tower of London.

& they are a more ancient armor than

is there. It is a recommendation that

they are so in obvious--that they occur

only to the eye & thought that chances to

be directed toward them. When you

pick up an arrowhead & put it in your

pocket--it may say {but} Eh--you

think you have got me, do you? but I

shall wear a hole in your pocket at last.

or if you put me in your cabinet

--your heir--or great grandson--will

negl forget me--or throw me out

the window directly--or when the house

falls I shall drop into the cellar–- &

there I shall lie quite at home again.

Ready to be found again eh? Perhaps

some {new} red man that is to come will fit

me to a shaft & make me do his

bidding for a bow shot--What reck I?

77 4/1/59

I land again at the (now island) rock,

on Simon Brown’s land--& look for arrowheads

*& picked up 2 pieces of soap stone pottery--

one was probably part of the same which

C. found with me there the other day. C’s piece

was one side of a shallow dish say 1 1/2 inches

deep 4/8 to 6/8 inch thick with a sort of

ear for handle on one side--almost a leg

{drawing} {drawing} His piece, like mine, looks

as if it had been scratched all over on the

outside by a nail & it is evident that

this is the way it was fashioned-- It was

scratched with some hard sharp pointed

stone & so crumbled & worn away.

This little knoll was half plowed (through

its summit) last fall in order to be culti-

standing over all but the apex

vated this spring--& the high water^ has

for a fortnight been faithfully washing

away the soil & leaving the stones--Ind relics

& others--exposed-- The very roots of the grass--

yellowish brown fibres--are thus washed

clean & exposed in considerable quantity there--

You could hardly have contrived a better way

to separate the arrow heads that lay buried in

that sod between the rocks--from the sod

& soil--

78 4/7/59

The white mans relics in the field are like the Indians

pipes--pottery--& (instead of arrow heads) bullets.

79 4/24/59

There is a season for everything, & we

do not notice a given phenomenon–-except

at that season–-if indeed it can be called

the same phenomenon at any other season–-

There is a time to watch the ripples on

Ripple-lake–-to look for arrowheads–-

to study the rocks–-& lichens–-a time to

walk on sandy deserts–-& the observer

of nature must improve these seasons

as much as the farmer his.

80 4/30/59

I noticed under the S edge of the Holden Wood

on the arrow-head field a great many little birches

in the grass–-ap. seedlings of last year–- & I take

up a hundred & 10 from 3 to 6 or 7 inches high.

81 5/2/59

I feel no desire to go to California or Pikes

Peak–- but I often think at night with

inexpressible

^ satisfaction & yearning–-of the arrowheadiferous

sands of Concord. I have often spent whole

afternoons, esp. in the spring,–-pacing back

& forth over a sandy field–-looking for these

relics of a race. This is the gold which our

sands yield. The soil of that rocky spot

on Simon Brown’s land is quite ash colored

–-(now that the sod is turned up) by Indian

fires–-with numerous pieces of clo coal in it.

There is a great deal of this ash-colored soil

in the country–- We do literally plough up

the hearths of a people & plant in

their ashes. The ashes of their fires colors

much of our soil.

82 5/4/59

After crossing the arrowhead fields we

see a woodchuck run along & climb to

the top of a wall & sit erect there–-our

first-- It is almost exactly the color of the

ground & the wall & the bare brown twigs.

83 10/16/59

*Every rain exposes new arrow heads--we stop

at Clam Shell & dabble for a moment in the relics

of a departed race.

84 10/17/59

What I put into my pocket--whether

berry or apple generally has to keep company

with an arrowhead or 2. I hear the latter

clinking against a key as I walk. These

are the perennial crop of Concord fields.

If they were sure it would pay--we should see

farmers raking the fields for them.

1860

85 2/13/60

*The ground being bare I pick up 2 or 3 arrow-

heads in Tarbells field near Ball's Hill.

86 3/2/60

Now for some days look for arrow heads

where it is not too soft

87 3/18/60

*C. picks up at Clam Shell--a very thin piece

of pottery--about 1/8 inch thick--which appears

to contain much pounded shell.

88 3/24/60

*I find on Indian ground, as today on

the Great Fields--very regular oval

stones like large pebbles--sometimes 5 or

6 inches long--water worn of course--

& brought hither by the Ind. They commonly

show marks of having been used as hammers.

Often in fields where there is not a stone

of that kind in place for a mile or more.

89 3/25/60

[summary of characteristics and activities of March]

The 7th is a day of misty rain & mistling.

--& of moist brown earth--into which you sink

as far as it is thawed at every step-- Every now

& then the mist thickens & the rain drives in

upon you from one side-- Now you admire

the various brown colors of the parded earth--

the plump cladonias--&c &c

Perchance you notice the beomyces in fruit

& the great chocolate colored puff ball

still loosing its dust and {on} bare sandy places

then

the {lycoperdon} stellata--& ^ your thoughts

are directed to arrowheads--& you gather

the first Ind. relics for the season--

The open spaces in the river are {now} long reaches

& the ice between is mackerelled--& you

no longer think of crossing it except

at the broadest bay. It is perhaps lifted up

by the melted snow & {the} rain–

90 6/22/60

On the NE side of the Great Fields

there are 2 or 3 little patches of sand {one} to

{2 rods} across--with a few slivers of arrowhead

stone sprinkled over them-- It is easy to find an

arrow head if it is exposed-- These spots are plowed

only by the wind & rain--& yet I rarely cross

them but I find a new arrow head exposed.

91 7/7/60

In the pm of July 3d--when the air

at our house at 2 o clock was 82̊--a

breezy afternoon--the little arrow head

desert on Sted. Buttrick's Land in the Great

fields, the therm. being buried 1 3/4 inches deep

rose to 90̊ at 3 inches deep to 86̊--Lying

flat on the surface back up--to 86-- Held

in air above to 84̊

92 8/22/60

The recent heavy rains have washed

away the bank here considerably--& it looks

& smells more mouldy with human relics

than ever-- I therefore find myself inevitably exploring

it. On the edge of the Ravine, whose be-

ginning I witnessed, one foot beneath the surface--

& just over{--}a layer some 3 inches thick of pure

shells & ashes--a gray white line on the

face of the cliff--*I find several pieces of

Ind. pottery with a rude ornament on it--

not much more red than the earth itself.

Looking farther I find more fragments which

sandy

have been washed down the ^ slope--in a stream

as far as 10 feet--I find in all 31 pieces.

Averaging an inch in diameter & about

several

1/3 of an inch thick. Many of them made

part of the upper edge of the vessel--

& have a rude ornament encircling them

in 3 rows, as if pricked with a stick in the

soft clay--& also another line on the narrow

edge itself-- At first I thought to match

the pieces again, like a geographical puzzle,

but I did not find that any 2 belonged to-

gether. The vessel could have been quite

large & I have not {got} nearly all of it.

It appears to have been an impure clay--with much

sand & gravel in it--& I think a little pounded

shell-- It is very unequal thickness--some of

the unadorned pieces (prob. the bottom) being 1/2

inch thick--while near the edge it is not more

than 1/4 of an inch thick. There was {under}

this spot & under the layer of shells a

manifest hollowness in the ground--not

yet filled up. I find many small pieces of

bone in the soil of this bank--prob. of

animals the Ind. ate.

In another part of the bank in the midst

of a much larger heap of shells which

has been exposed--*I found a delicate stone

tool of this form & size--of a

{drawing}

soft slate stone. It is very thin & sharp

on each side{s} edge--& in the middle is not

more than 1/8 inch thick-- I suspect

that this was used to open clams with.

It is curious, that I had expected to find

as much as this--& in this very spot too

before I reached it (I mean the {s}pot)--

Indeed I never find a remarkable Ind. relic,

and I find a good many, but I have

first divined its existence, & planned the

discovery of it. Frequently I have told my-

self distinctly what it was to be before I

found it.

93 9/22/60

*Find more pieces of that Ind. pot. have now 38 in all

Evidently the recent rise of the river has carried

the lower leaves of the button bush to fall. A perfectly

level line in these bushes marks the height to

which the water rose--many or most of

the leaves so high having fallen.

94 10/31/60

Consider what a demand for

arrowheads there must be that the

sufrace of the earth should be thus

sprinkled with them--the arrowhead

& all the disposition it implies toward both

man & brute. There they lie pointed still

making part of the sands of almost

every field.

95 11/26/60

But where did the pitch pines stand originally?

Who cleared the land for its seedlings to

spring up-- -- It is commonly referred to very

poor & sandy land-- Yet I find it growing

on the best land also-- The expression a

pitch-pine plain is but another name

for a poor & sandy level-- Who knows

but the fires or clearings of the Indians

may have to do with the presence of these

trees there? They regularly cleared extensive tracks

for cultivate--& these were {were} always level

tracts where the soil was light--such

as they could turn over with their rude hoes--

Such was the land which they are

known to have cultivated extensively in this town

--as the great fields--& the rear of Mr

Dennis--sandy plains-- It is in such

places chiefly that you find their relics

in my part of the country-- They did not

cultivate such soil as our maple swamps

occupy--or such a succession of hills & dales as

this oak wood covers-- Other trees will grow

where the {p.} pine--does--but the former will

maintain its ground there the best. I know

of no tree so likely to spread rapidly over such areas

when abandoned by the aborigines--as the

pitch pines--and next birches & white pines--

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