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
With the return of hope came the sense of all he owed to the
devotedness of this kind woman. He grasped the hand that still lingered
on his arm, pressed it affectionately in his own, and then placed it in
silence on his throbbing heart. The breathing of Oucanasta became
deeper, and the young officer fancied he could feel her trembling with
agitation. Again, however, and in a tone of more subdued expression,
she whispered that he must go.
There was little urging necessary to induce a prompt compliance with
the hint. Cautiously emerging from his concealment, Captain de Haldimar
now followed close in the rear of his guide, who took the same circuit
of the forest to reach the path that led towards the fort. This they
speedily gained, and then pursued their course in silence, until they
at length arrived at the log where the exchange of mocassins had been
made.
"Here the Saganaw may take breath," she observed, as she seated herself
on the fallen tree; "the sleep of the red skin is sound, and there is
no one upon the path but Oucanasta."
Anxious as he felt to secure his return to the fort, there was an
implied solicitation in the tones of her to whom he owed so much, that
prevented Captain de Haldimar from offering an objection, which he
feared might be construed into slight.
For a moment or two the Indian remained with her arms folded, and her
head bent over her chest; and then, in a low, deep, but tremulous
voice, observed,--
"When the Saganaw saved Oucanasta from perishing in the angry waters,
there was a girl of the pale faces with him, whose skin was like the
snows of the Canadian winter, and whose hair was black like the fur of
the squirrel. Oucanasta saw," she pursued, dropping her voice yet
lower, "that the Saganaw was loved by the pale girl, and her own heart
was very sick, for the Saganaw had saved her life, and she loved him
too. But she knew she was very foolish, and that an Indian girl could
never be the wife of a handsome chief of the Saganaw; and she prayed to
the Great Spirit of the red skins to give her strength to overcome her
feelings; but the Great Spirit was angry with her, and would not hear
her." She paused a moment, and then abruptly demanded, "Where is that
pale girl now?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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