The black wolf's breed : $b A story of France in the Old world and the New, happening in the reign of Louis XIVDickson, Harris
History
The black wolf's breed : $b A story of France in the Old world and the New, happening in the reign of Louis XIV
Dickson, Harris
France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
Had the fool no sense? I caught the imploring expression of interest
on the girl's sweet face behind Madame, and determined at all hazards
they should not have the laugh at me. I saw it all then; they were in
league with Jerome to play a game of "bait the bear," with me for bear.
So I pitched in and sang, such a song I warrant as my lords and ladies
had never bent their ears to hear before, a crooning death incantation
of the Choctaws, which fell as naturally from my lips as my own mother
tongue.
Their laughter hushed, for even in the court of France, sated as it was
with novelties, laying a world under tribute for amusements, that wild,
weird melody never rose before nor since. One stanza I sang translated
into French that they might understand;
"Yuh! Listen. Quickly you have drawn near to hearken;
Listen! Now I have come to step over your soul;
You are of the Wolf Clan;
Your name is Ayuni;
Toward the Black Coffin of the upland, in the upland of the
Darkening Land your path shall stretch out.
With the Black Coffin and the Black Slabs I have come to
cover you.
When darkness comes your spirit shall grow less and dwindle
away never to reappear. Listen."
And they did listen; yea, attentively did they hearken, for a great
pall of silence lowered upon them, so new, so strange to them was the
song.
When I had quite finished, the soft, Indian words dropping as the
splash of unknown, unseen waters, Madame besought me with earnestness
to tell her more, and the others crowded round to hear. I do not know
what evil genius of folly prompted the childish deed, but feeling safe
in having found what we wanted, and moved more than I would admit by
the now admiring eyes of the girl, I gathered up half a dozen daggers
from the gentlemen who stood about. Selecting those whose weight and
balance commended themselves most to my purpose, I cleared a small
space, and having sent a serving man for a pack of cards, chose a five
spot and pinned it to a tree. Standing back some ten to fifteen paces,
I cast the four knives at the corner pips in quick succession, piercing
them truly, then paused a minute and cast the fifth knife at the
center, striking accurately between the other four. It was an act of
idle vanity, yet I hated for Jerome to taunt me on the way home.
By these petty means I gained a cheap applause from the belles and
gallants at Sceaux, and Jerome opened not his lips to jibe me, as I
feared, but like the rest, applauded.
I had now quite regained my courage, but for the girl. I loved to
think of her as but a girl; that she was also a wife I barred out of
our castle in Spain. Why should I be afraid of such a timid child?
Verily, I knew not.
My folly had one result I could not then foresee; it told some of those
present, whose hand it was had cast the hunting knife which struck
Yvard. I did not learn this for days after.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account