Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 2Richardson, Major (John)
General
Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 2
Richardson, Major (John)
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765 -- Fiction
"Why, that 'ere Ingian, your honour, as began the butchery in the fort,
yonder, by trying to kill Jack Fuller while he laid asleep this
morning, waiting for the captain in the jolly boat. Jack never seed him
coming, until he felt his black hands upon his throat, and then he ups
with the tiller at his noddle, and sends him floundering across the
boat's thwarts like a flat-fish. I thought, your honour, seeing as how
I have got the command of the schooner, of tying him up to the
mainmast, and giving him two or three round dozen or so, and then
sending him to swim among the mascannungy with a twenty-four pound shot
in his neckcloth; but, seeing as how your honour is going among them
savages agin, I thought as how some good might be done with him, if
your honour could contrive to keep him in tow, and close under your lee
quarter, to prevent his escape."
"At all events," returned the officer, after a pause of some moments,
during which he appeared to be deliberating on his course of action,
"it may be dangerous to keep him in the vessel; and yet, if we take him
ashore, he may be the means of our more immediate destruction; unless,
indeed, as you observe, he can be so secured as to prevent the
possibility of escape: but that I very much doubt indeed. Where is he,
Mullins? I should like to see and question him."
"He shall be up, your honour, in no time," replied the sailor, once
more resuming his hat, and moving a pace or two forward. Then
addressing two or three men in the starboard gangway in the
authoritative tone of command:--"Bear a hand there, my men, and cast
off the lashings of that black Ingian, and send him aft, here, to the
officer."
The order was speedily executed. In a few minutes the Indian stood on
the quarter-deck, his hands firmly secured behind, and his head sunk
upon his chest in sullen despondency. In the increasing gloom in which
objects were now gradually becoming more and more indistinct, it was
impossible for Captain de Haldimar to distinguish his features; but
there was something in the outline of the Indian's form that impressed
him with the conviction he had seen it before. Advancing a pace or two
forward, he pronounced, in an emphatic and audible whisper, the name of
"Oucanasta!"
The Indian gave an involuntary start,--uttered a deep interjectional
"Ugh!"--and, raising his head from his chest, fixed his eye heavily on
the officer.
"Hookynaster!--Hookynaster!" growled Jack Fuller, who had followed to
hear the examination of his immediate captive: "why, your honour, that
jaw-breaking name reminds me as how the chap had a bit of a paper when
I chucked him into the jolly boat, stuck in his girdle. It was covered
over with pencil-marks, as writing like; but all was rubbed out agin,
except some such sort of a name as that."
"Where is it?--what have you done with it?" hastily asked Captain de
Haldimar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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