Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 367, May 1846Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 367, May 1846
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
A muttering was heard behind the curtains of the bed, sounding not
unlike the Christian wish, that every drop the bloodhounds swallowed
might prove poison to them; the host, however, whose humanity was less
vindictive than that of his wife, hastened to the bar to comply with his
guest's demand. The chief drank a half-gill of whisky at a draught, and
then passed the glass to his neighbour. When a sixth bottle had been
emptied, he suddenly rose, threw a Spanish gold piece upon the table,
opened the curtains of the bed, and hung a string of corals, which he
took from his wampum girdle, round the neck of the child.
"The red men will know the daughter of a warrior," said he, fixing his
eyes upon the infant, which now lay wrapped in flannel upon the bosom of
the hostess. He gave a second glance at woman and child, and then
passing silently out at the door disappeared with his companions in the
darkness.
"The hurricane is over," said the tavern-keeper, who had followed the
Indians with his eyes as they glided like dim shadows to their birch
canoes upon the Coosa.
"In heaven's name! who is that incarnate red devil?" cried his wife,
drawing a deep breath of relief, and shuddering as she spoke.
"Hush, woman!--hold your tongue! till the Coosa's between it and the
redskins. This is no joking matter, I can tell you."
As he spoke he closed the door; and, taking up the light, approached the
bed, where his wife was suckling the child.
"Poor little thing!" said he, "if you could speak you would tell us a
tale that might well make our hair stand on end. This affair may cost us
dear yet; those red devils are come from a scalping expedition; of that
there is no doubt. But in what direction, God alone knows. Well, if it
were only amongst the Spaniards," continued he, glancing alternately at
the child, and at the gold coin in his hand, "I should not much care
about it, but"--
And without finishing the sentence he resumed his place in the bed,
although some hours elapsed before the recollection of the strange scene
that had occurred allowed sleep to revisit his eyelids.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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