“I grant it,” said Reginald, reining in the proud steed alluded to
in the guide’s illustration; “I grant it; and see how earnestly our
Delaware friend is now bent upon his task; he has made a signal for the
party to halt, and is stooping to examine a blade of grass, as if life
itself depended upon his acute sagacity.”
It was, indeed, as the young man said; the Delaware chief had stooped
to examine a bunch of grass by the side of the trail, in which his
quick glance had detected a small object which would have escaped a
less–practised eye: with a subdued exclamation of surprise he seized
it, and concealed it for a moment in his hand, a ray of animation
lighting up his fine countenance; it was but for a moment, his
features almost immediately relapsed into their usual melancholy grave
expression; and drawing near to Reginald, he put into his hands a small
golden clasp, saying,
“My brother, War–Eagle knows it well; it was given by the Black
Father to Olitipa: the trail is clear as the great white pathway of
heaven.”[54]
Reginald took the clasp, and seizing the hand which held it, he pressed
it in silence to his heart: he had marked the varying expression on
War–Eagle’s countenance; he saw how a moment’s recollection had changed
the sanguine exultation of the lover, to the sad yet steady firmness
of the friend; and his heart yearned towards his Indian brother with
an affection that words could not express; but they were not needed;
his moistened eye and glowing cheek spoke volumes to his friend, and
War–Eagle bounded forward again upon the trail, his spirit excited by
an incident which, though slight in itself, had called forth high and
generous emotions.
A few minutes after the Delaware had resumed his post as guide, our
hero purposely fell into the rear of the party, and throwing the rein
loosely over the neck of his horse, turned the precious golden relic
over and over between his fingers, and pressed it a thousand times
to his lips; the ground over which they were travelling was a broken
series of ravines or ridges, and thus he was enabled to indulge in the
extravagant endearments which he bestowed upon the senseless trinket,
without being exposed to the curious eyes of his fellow–travellers, now
out of his sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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