The Trappers of Arkansas; or, The Loyal HeartAimard, Gustave
General
The Trappers of Arkansas; or, The Loyal Heart
Aimard, Gustave
Arkansas -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Trappers -- Fiction; Western stories
"Go and inform the master that I bring a traveller with me," cried
my guide, "and be sure not to forget to tell Black Elk that he is a
Frenchman."
"How do you know that?" I asked, a little annoyed, for I piqued myself
upon speaking Spanish with great purity.
"_Pardi!_" he said laughing, "we are almost compatriots."
"How so?"
"_Dame!_ I am a Canadian, you understand, and I soon recognised the
accent."
During the exchange of these few words, we had arrived at the door of
the hacienda, where several persons waited to receive us.
It appeared that the announcement of my quality of Frenchman, made by my
companion, had produced a certain sensation.
Ten or twelve domestics held torches, by favour of which I could
distinguish six or eight persons at least, men and women, coming forward
to welcome us.
The master of the hacienda, whom I recognized as such at once, advanced
towards me with a lady hanging on his arm, who must have been a great
beauty, and might yet pass for handsome, although she was near forty
years of age.
Her husband was a man of about fifty, of lofty stature, and endowed with
a marked, manly countenance; around them clung, with staring eyes, five
or six charming children, who resembled them too strongly not to belong
to them.
A little behind them, half concealed, in the shade, was a lady of about
seventy and an old gentleman apparently not far from a hundred.
I took in at a glance the whole of this family, the aspect of which had
something patriarchal in it that attracted sympathy and respect.
"Sir," said the hacendero kindly, seizing the bridle of my horse to
assist me to dismount, "Esa casa se dé a vm (This house is yours); I can
only thank my friend Belhumeur for having succeeded in bringing you to
my house."
"I must admit, señor," I said with a smile, "that he had not much
trouble in doing so, and that I accept with gratitude the offer he was
so kind as to make me."
"If you will permit it, señor, as it is getting late," the hacendero
replied, "and particularly as you stand in need of repose, we will go at
once into the eating room; we were on the point of sitting down to table
when your arrival was announced."
"Señor, I thank you a thousand times," I remarked with a bow; "your kind
welcome has made me forget all my fatigue."
"We can easily recognise French politeness," said the lady, with a
pleasing smile.
I offered my arm to the lady of the house, and we proceeded to the
eating-room, where, upon an immense table, was served an Homeric repast,
the appetizing odour of which reminded me that I had fasted for nearly
twelve hours.
We took our seats. Forty persons, at least, were assembled round the
table.
In this hacienda was kept up the patriarchal custom which is now falling
into desuetude, of allowing the servants to eat with the masters of the
house.
All that I saw, all that I heard, charmed me in this abode; it had a
perfume of kindness about it which made the heart beat responsively.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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