Menotah: A Tale of the Riel Rebellion. Trevena John

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СКАЧАТЬ Menotah only laughed again, while the roar of the great rapids beat down upon their ears with sound of sombre menace.

      She bent her beautiful head over his shoulder, and asked, 'The daughters of the white men are fair—you have said so?'

      'But you are more beautiful than all,' broke forth the old man, half fiercely. 'Surely. None, on whom my eyes have rested, have owned such flow of life, such health, such gladness of spirit. These things are beauty. You are as straight as a young fir, and as fair as the evening star.'

      In an instant her assumed gravity had disappeared. Laughing merrily, she darted back, with black hair streaming cloud-like behind. But the old man pursued her with a searching question—

      'Child! Menotah! What dream spirit has whispered into your brain, as you slept beneath the moon? What is that which has told your mind that you were more beautiful than others—that you were even fair at all? You have learnt from me, yet on such matters have I given you no knowledge.'

      Menotah was singing gaily, unconcernedly, and for the time appeared not to notice his quick questionings. But suddenly she sprang aside to the bushes, and parted them with eager hands. Then she glanced back, and commenced to chant in loud, distinct tones—

      'Old father, you have taught me much, yet, being a man, you might not read a woman's heart. You could not tell her all—not that she wished especially to learn. So she has searched for that knowledge wherever it might be found. Behold! she has succeeded.'

      The Ancient would have spoken aloud in wonder, but the bright girl gave him no opportunity.

      'One day, near the setting of the sun, I came along this way. The river-pool was already growing black, while long rushes bent and murmured when they saw me approach. Then, when I stood upon the black rock, I heard the echo of a soft voice, which arose in music at my feet, and crept up until it touched my ears. So I knew that it was the Spirit of the waters who was calling me. And he had knowledge for my ear, and mine alone. Do you still hear the soft voice calling beneath us, old father?'

      She raised her dainty figure, then uplifted a small hand, inclining her head forward with a graceful gesture. The waters lapped and whispered against the slime-green base of the rock.

      '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!'

      'Do you hear, old father?' she cried joyfully. 'Can you hear the voice of the laughing waters? Each night they call me, and bid me come.'

      Then the old man frowned, and raised a crooked hand to point upward over the rock-ledge opposite, where a cold ray of white light struggled through shadows.

      'Hear also the voice of the great rapids, daughter. They shout, and they call, also. Would you hasten to their bidding?'

      She shuddered slightly, then replied, 'Not so, old father. I would not obey the summons to death and silence.'

      Antoine shivered also, as the night chilled his body. 'We tarry past the sun-setting,' he muttered. 'It is not well to be abroad at this time.'

      'Ah! But listen first,' she pleaded. 'Here what the Spirit of the water had to show me.'

      Again he paused, while she wrapped the cold bushes round her waist, and bathed her fingers in the dew-wet foliage. Then she spoke—

      'I came onward to the rock-brink, yet I trembled. For I feared lest the Spirit might stretch forth an angry arm to draw me down, and claim me as his victim.

      'So I came with hesitating footstep, and leant with hidden dread over the great stones, whereon the brown reeds beat their flowering heads. I looked, yet saw nothing, but the drifting clouds and bright pictures of evening sunset, for the waters swirled and bubbled, as though in anger. Again I looked, but there was still nothing, save the shadow of the bright sky.

      'But then a dim mist formed slowly and rose with gradual motions from the bottom. As it came nearer it gathered together, and took a wonderful shape, while my heart beat loudly as it rose to the surface, which was now calm and smooth, for the white foam and curling ripples had fled beneath the rock. And as I bent down—lower—nearer, until the ends of my unbound hair kissed the face of the waters, that shadow lay upon the surface, and held its lips up to mine.

      'Then I looked upon a being of beauty. There was a maiden, with eager, parted lips which were curved into a smile. I saw also eyes, happy but determined, and thick waves of hair enclosing a blameless face. At the pleasure of beholding so much beauty I smiled. And, behold! the vision smiled also, while the waters broke into ripples of silent laughter. Then I frowned, creasing up my forehead into long wrinkles, and forthwith the waters moaned with storm breath, while sunshine departed from the valley. So then I laughed aloud, bringing again joy to the Spirit, with adornment to the face of the waters.

      'For I knew that I was beautiful—beautiful—beautiful!'

      She bent her happy face forward, with a small shake of the head at each repetition of her final word. Then she liberated the bushes. They closed behind, and she vanished. But her happy song was still borne through the forest as she glided, bird-like, amongst the trees.

      The Ancient was left again to himself He pulled the blanket over his scanty white locks with weak motions, while his thin lips parted in unspoken words. His deeply furrowed face was pinched and frowning.

      Then he turned, also, and went his way.

      [1] It is a native custom thus to hang streamers to some bush after a prayer. The disappearance of such is a sign that the Spirit is pleased and will grant the desired favour.

CHAPTER III

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THE BUDDING OF A PASSION

       Table of Contents

      Nearer the outskirts of the mighty forest, where between the tree trunks might be caught, when the bushes sometimes parted beneath a slight gust of wind, a silvery flash of the sun-kissed river, two men stood side by side in earnest conference. Very dissimilar were they in every particular, save in the one important distinction of race. One was much bent by time's heavy hand; the other enjoyed the full vigour of early manhood.

      This latter was tall and finely shaped; his arms were like strong wire ropes, and swelled with blue muscles as he moved with the unconscious animal grace of the native; his dark-skinned face was clearly cut and set in firm lines of determination, while the keen eyes flashed and the nostrils expanded as he listened to the words of the shrunk figure at his side and gave him back reply.

      They were completely alone in this great solitude. Close behind there spread a thick tangle of bush, which gradually merged into the dark forest line, a luxuriant growth, which might readily have concealed many an invisible foe. But these men had no fear of their own, and as for the hostile white—well, there were but very few of them, and these harmless, since they could not be suspicious of approaching danger.

      The old man slowly turned himself from the glowing face of the setting СКАЧАТЬ