Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)Richardson, Major (John)
General
Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)
Richardson, Major (John)
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765 -- Fiction
hut, were also attached to this belt by strips of deer-skin of about
six inches in length. Into another broad leathern belt, that confined
the hunting coat, was thrust a tomahawk, the glittering head of which
was uppermost, and unsheathed: while at the opposite side, and half
supporting the powder-horn, the huge handle of a knife, whose blade was
buried in a strong leathern sheath, was distinctly visible.
The form and face of this individual were in perfect keeping with the
style of his costume, and the formidable character of his equipment.
His stature was considerably beyond that of the ordinary race of men,
and his athletic and muscular limbs united the extremes of strength and
activity in a singular degree. His features, marked and prominent, wore
a cast of habitual thought, strangely tinctured with ferocity; and the
general expression of his otherwise not unhandsome countenance was
repellent and disdainful. At the first glance he might have been taken
for one of the swarthy natives of the soil; but though time and
constant exposure to scorching suns had given to his complexion a dusky
hue, still there were wanting the quick, black, penetrating eye; the
high cheek-bone; the straight, coarse, shining, black hair; the small
bony hand and foot; and the placidly proud and serious air, by which
the former is distinguished. His own eye was of a deep bluish grey; his
hair short, dark, and wavy; his hands large and muscular; and so far
from exhibiting any of the self-command of the Indian, the constant
play of his features betrayed each passing thought with the same
rapidity with which it was conceived. But if any doubt could have
existed in the mind of him who beheld this strangely accoutred figure,
it would have been instantly dispelled by a glance at his lower limbs.
We have already stated the upper part of his leggings terminated about
mid-thigh; from this to the hip, that portion of the limb was
completely bare, and disclosed, at each movement of the garment that
was suffered to fall loosely over it, not the swarthy and
copper-coloured flesh of the Indian, but the pale though sun-burnt skin
of one of a more temperate clime. His age might be about forty-five.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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