Malaeska: The Indian Wife of the White Hunter — John Shaqi
Malaeska: The Indian Wife of the White HunterStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
Malaeska: The Indian Wife of the White Hunter
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
Dime novels; Indian women -- Fiction
The foremost of the three hunters was an Englishman of about forty,
habited in a threadbare suit of blue broadcloth, with drab gaiters
buttoned up to his knees, and a hat sadly shorn of its original nap.
His hunting apparatus bespoke the peculiar care which all of his
country so abundantly bestow on their implements of sport. The other
two were much younger, and dressed in home-made cloth, over which
were loose frocks manufactured from the refuse flax or swingled tow.
Both were handsome, but different in the cast of their features. The
character of the first might be read in his gay air and springy step,
as he followed close to the Englishman, dashing away the brushwood with
the muzzle of his gun, and detecting with a quick eye the broken twigs
or disturbed leaves which betrayed the course of the hunted bear. There
was also something characteristic in the wearing of his dress, in the
fox-skin cap thrown carelessly on one side of his superb head, exposing
a mass of short brown curls around the left ear and temple, and in the
bosom of his coarse frock thrown open so as to give free motion to a
neck Apollo might have coveted. He was a hunter, who had occasionally
visited the settlement of late, but spent whole weeks in the woods,
professedly in collecting furs by his own efforts, or by purchase from
the tribe of Indians encamped at the foot of the mountains.
The last was more sedate in his looks, and less buoyant in his air.
There was an intellectual expression in his high, thoughtful brow,
embrowned though it was by exposure. A depth of thought in his serious
eye and a graceful dignity in his carriage, bespoke him as one of those
who hide deep feeling under an appearance of coldness and apathy. He
had been a schoolmaster in the Bay State, from whence he had been drawn
by the bright eyes and merry laugh of one Martha Fellows, a maiden
of seventeen, whose father had moved to the settlement at Catskill
the preceding summer, and to whom, report said, he was to be married
whenever a minister, authorized to perform the ceremony, should find
his way to the settlement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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