Menotah: A Tale of the Riel Rebellion. Trevena John

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СКАЧАТЬ Dead, and in that death lay the most convincing proof of the truth of the last word he had spoken.

      Goaded by fear and the desperation of the moment, he had sprung forward. He was mounted, and dashing furiously through the forest, ignorant of direction, feeling only the great and terrible fear of the pursued. Branches cut and bruised his face; small twigs bent and lashed him angrily; the night wind hissed with menace upon his ears; while behind, around, in front, the great forest shrieked and raved.

      Onward crashed the horse, the white breath streaming away, the flecks of foam dashing to each side. He bent down and shrank together, his single idea being to present as small a target as possible. Every second he expected to hear the crash of muzzle-loaders, to hear the screech of shot, to feel the sharp sting of lead in his back.

      Still on, heading he knew not where in that terrible fright. Sparkling dew dashed off the leaves; long bushes streamed past his legs; red sparks shot madly upward from the iron-black rocks beneath.

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

MENOTAH—HEART THAT KNOWS NOT SORROW

       Table of Contents

      Ne-ha-hah! Drip, flash, gurgle. Down from rock to rock—splash, tinkle—soft, softer, with a long, peaceful swirl of bubbles, as the lone rushes by the bank shivered again. With a gleam beneath a dancing ray of sunlight, with a beauty spot of white foam here and there. Min-ne-ha-hah! Splash, drip-drip—splash! Then a quickening run of black and silver bars, a long, golden line of light—with a bright singing voice, and with a peal of music like the chime of distant bells. Ne-ha-hah!

      The place of the laughing waters. Here the sun quivered for colour music, while wind and water met and kissed with the whispering caress of an ever endless song. First came the wind, with deep, long sigh through the bushes, then the sunlight. After this overture, one might listen to the melody of the waters.

      'Ne-pink, ink-ink-ah. Min-ne-sot-ah-hah. Ha-hah-ne-ah-ah! Ne-ha-hah-ah! Pink-ink-ink. Ne-pink. Ne-ah. Nepink-ah-hah. Min-ha! Ne-ah-ink-ink. Min-ne-ha-ink-ink! Ne-sot-ah! So-tah. So-tah-ha-hah-ah! Min-ne-ha. Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ah! Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ha! Ne-hah! Ne-ha! Ne-sot-ah! Ne-ha-hah-ha! Ne-ha-hah! Ah! Hah!'

      Then the wind swelled louder for the great wordless opera. The sunrays grew whiter and stronger to light up the great rugged stage of Nature.

      There was a mighty slab of black rock, which the waves lapped listlessly, at one side of the river pool. This appeared to shoot straight from the heart of the forest—part bathed by the water, part shielded and hidden by a tangle of bushes. To a pendulous branch, projecting over the black stone, had been attached a coloured streamer of cloth, which rose and fell gaily with the wind, like the guiding beat of a conductor's bâton.

      Then the voice of Nature was broken into, yet not disturbed, again. A clear, thrilling cry came from the forest, the careless, happy cry of a young life.

      'There will be full moon to-night, and a south wind. Then the evil one will steal from the marshes, for there will be war and fire. War and Fire!'

      That same voice again, but now the speaker was nearer and approaching. In such a place, at such a time, it might almost have been Wasayap on her way to meet the Heelhi-Manitou at the Passing Place of the Spirits.

      The music of the waters swelled a little higher into a louder, purer burst of melody. The departing sun streamed slantingly across the so-far empty stage, where a few white grass stems shivered.

      'Min-ne-ha! Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ha! Min-ne-ha. Ne-ha! Ne-hah! Ne-ha! Ne-sot-ah! Ne-ha-hah-ha! Ne-ha-hah! Ne-ha! Ah! Hah!'

      The clinging bushes hung around and above without motion. Suddenly they parted, with quick swish and rapid rustling of leaves, and the next moment appeared a wonderful vision.

      'Men-ha! Ot-ah! Me-e-e-e-ot-ah. Ah-ha! Ha-hah-ha-ah! Me-ot-hah. Ot-ah! Ah-ah-ah! Ot-ah! Ot-ah! Ah-hah! Men-ot-ah! Ot-ah! Menotah!'

      With a noisy, petulant fluttering of foliage the bushes sprang back to their former position. The vision finally resolved itself into human form and shape, as it sprang down to the rock with the agile bound of a young deer. Then the waters smiled into the laughing face of a young and lovely girl.

      With a soft, gurgling laughter, suggestive of sheer happiness and exuberance of life, she deftly balanced her dainty body upon one tiny foot, then, with quick clutch, snatched at and captured the overhanging bough, which bent itself barely within reach of her hand. When she had pulled this to a level with her forehead, she swung herself airily backwards and forwards, her feet softly caressing the hard rock with the beating motions of a gentle dance.

      She had thrown her head well back, and thus revealed the delicate moulding of her velvet neck; her long hair was rippling unbound along the bright rays of intermittent sunshine; the liquid song-notes of a native ditty trilled from her red, smiling lips.

      She was admirable; she was perfect; she was adorable.

      Her skin was dark, yet by no means swarthy. Soft and delicate in its purity, she resembled more the refined Creole than an Indian girl of the forest. Her dress, which reached a little below the knees, was of a coarse material dyed red, while her arms and feet were bare, or, rather, clothed in their own perfect beauty. Entwined round her temples, twisted in careless profusion through the cloud of her flowing hair, wound a festoon of emerald leaves and glowing berries, snatched from some forest bush as she sped lightheartedly amongst the trees. Radiant as were these berries, Nature had not painted them with the rich scarlet of Menotah's cheeks, nor with the deep carmine of her parted lips, through which came the pearly glitter of the teeth. And above, the dark eyes flashed and shone, spreading the happy contagion of mirth as they passed, with the hovering action of the swallow, from one object to another.

      So, unconscious of evil, insensible to suffering, she swung herself from side to side upon the black rock, while her face shone with rapture, like the laughing water which bubbled beneath her feet. The sun dropped down to the uneven line of a long ridge opposite, while a fine glow shot into the sky. Again she swung on tiptoe, and sang in a clear voice a sweet voice with a thrill in it that sounded through the forest and over the water, light and sparkling as the tinkling of raindrops upon the leaves.

      In her youthful, ignorant passion she sang to the Spirit for understanding of life, for knowledge of human secrets, for unending joy and eternal love in the years to come, while the wind and the water played her a wonderful accompaniment.

      She stopped suddenly, with a musical cry of sheer happiness, then sprang, lithe and supple as a squirrel, from the higher ridge of the rock, in mid-air releasing her grasp of the branch. Upward it darted, with the force of a steel spring, striking down upon the dark tresses a shower of brown fir spines with many small green cones.

      Lightly as a snowflake the girl came to the lower platform of stone, which lay almost at a level with the water. Her step was sure, for her young limbs were strong and yielding. She made a dancing step; cast her arms delightedly above her head, accompanying the action with a merry burst of laughter; passed two shapely hands beneath a dark mist of hair, which had streamed forward over her face, and threw it back with a graceful gesture.

      She gazed around and upward, finally fixing her eyes upon the branch she had lately clung to. It seemed as though she searched СКАЧАТЬ