The Wild Huntress: Love in the Wilderness. Майн Рид

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      The “Jackson Hotel.”

      I found that I had arrived in the very “nick of time:” for just as I returned from the stable, and was entering the verandah of the hotel, I heard the bell calling its guests to supper. There was no ado made about me: neither landlord or waiter met me with a word; and following the stream of “boarders” or travellers who had arrived before me, I took my seat at the common table-d’hôte.

      Had the scene been new to me, I might have found food for reflection, or observed circumstances to astonish me. But I had been long accustomed to mix in as motley a throng, as that which now surrounded the table of the Swampville hotel. A supper-table, encircled by blanket and “jeans” coats—by buckskin blouses and red-flannel shirts—by men without coats at all—was nothing strange to me; nor was it strange either to find these bizarre costumes interspersed among others of fashionable cut and finest cloth. Black broad-cloth frocks, and satin or velvet vests, were quite common. Individuals thus attired formed a majority of the guests—for in young settlements the “hotel” or “tavern” is also a boarding-house, where the spruce “storekeepers” and better class of clerks take their meals—usually sleeping in the office or store.

      In glancing around the table, I saw many old “types,” though not one face that I had ever seen before. There was one, however, that soon attracted my attention, and fixed it. It was not a lady’s face, as you may be imagining; though there were present some of that sex—the landlord’s helpmate who presided over the coffee-pot, with some three or four younger specimens of the backwoods fair—her daughters and nieces. All, however, were absolutely without attraction of any sort; and I somewhat bitterly remembered the mot of double meaning, with which my friend had entertained me at parting.

      Venus was certainly not visible at the Swampville table-d’hôte: for the presiding divinity was a perfect Hecate; and her attendant damsels could have found no place in the train of the Cytherean goddess. No—the face that interested me was neither that of a female, nor in any way feminine. It was the face of a man; and that in the most emphatic sense of the word. He was a young man—apparently about four or five and twenty—and costumed as a backwoods hunter; that is, he wore a buckskin hunting-shirt, leggings, and mocassins—with bullet-pouch and powder-horn suspended over his shoulder, and hunting-knife sheathed in his belt. The coon-skin cap, hanging against the adjacent wall, was his head-dress: I had seen him place it there, before taking his seat at the supper-table. With the personal appearance of this young man the eye was at once satisfied. A figure of correct contour, features of noble outline, a face expressive of fine mental qualities—were the more salient characteristics that struck me at the first glance. Regarding the portrait more particularly, other details became manifest: round hazel eyes, with well-developed lashes; brows finely arched; a magnificent shock of nut-brown curling hair; a small, well-formed mouth, with white, regular teeth—all contributed to the creation of what might be termed a type of manly beauty. This beauty appeared in a somewhat neglected garb. Art might have improved it; but it was evident that none had been employed, or even thought of. It was a clear case of “beauty unadorned;” and the possessor of it appeared altogether unconscious of its existence. I need not add that this mental characteristic, on the part of the young man, heightened the grace of his personal charms.

      Why this young fellow fixed my attention, I can scarcely tell. His costume was by no means uncommon: though it was the only one of the kind there present. It was not that, however, nor yet his fine personal appearance, that interested me; but rather something I had observed in his bearing and manner. As we were seated opposite each other, near the foot of the long table, I had an excellent opportunity of observing him. Notwithstanding his undoubted good looks—sufficiently striking to have filled the possessor with vanity—his deportment was marked by a modest reserve, that proved him either unaware of his personal advantages, or without any conceit in them. By the glances occasionally cast towards him, from the opposite end of the table, I could perceive that “Miss Alvina” and “Miss Car’line” were not insensible to his attractions. Neither, however, had reason to congratulate herself upon any reciprocity of her favouring glances. The young man either did not observe, or, at all events, took no notice of them. The melancholy tinge pervading his features remained altogether unaltered. Equally impassible did he appear under the jealous looks of some three or four smart young storekeepers—influenced, no doubt, by tender relations existing between them and the aforementioned damsels, whose sly espièglerie of the handsome hunter could not have escaped their observation.

      The young man appeared to be be rather friendless, than unknown. I could perceive that almost all of the company were acquainted with him; but that most of them—especially the gentlemen in broad-cloth—affected an air of superiority over him. No one talked much to him: for his reserved manner did not invite conversation; but when one of these did address a few words to him, it was in the style usually adopted by the well-to-do citizen, holding converse with his less affluent neighbour. The young fellow was evidently not one to be sneered at or insulted; but, for all that, I could perceive that the broad-cloth gentry did not quite regard him as an equal. Perhaps this may be explained by the hypothesis that he was poor, and, indeed, it did not require much penetration to perceive that such was the reality. The hunting-shirt, though once a handsome one, was no longer new. On the contrary, it was considerably “scuffed;” and the green baize wrappers upon his limbs were faded to a greenish brown. Other points proclaimed a light purse—perhaps far lighter than the heart of him who carried it—if I was to judge by the expression of his countenance.

      Notwithstanding all this, the young hunter was evidently an object of interest—whether friendly or hostile—and might have been the cynosure of the supper-table, but for my undress-frock and spread-eagle buttons. These, however, claimed some share of the curiosity of Swampville; and I was conscious of being the object of a portion of its surveillance. I knew not what ideas they could have had about me, and cared as little: but, judging from the looks of the men—the broad-cloth gentlemen in particular—I was impressed with a suspicion that I was neither admired nor welcome. In the eyes of your “sovereign citizen,” the mere military man is not the hero that he is elsewhere; and he must show something more than a uniform coat, to recommend himself to their suffrages. I was conceited enough to imagine that Miss Alvina, and her vis-à-vis, Miss Car’line, did not look altogether unfriendly; but the handsome face and magnificent curls of the young hunter were beside me; and it was no use taking the field against such a rival. I was not jealous of him, however, nor he of me. On the contrary, of all the men present, he appeared most inclined to be courteous to me—as was evinced by his once or twice pushing within my reach those delicate dishes, distributed at very long distances over the table. I felt an incipient friendship for this young man, which he appeared to reciprocate. He saw that I was a stranger; and notwithstanding the pretentious fashion of my dress, perhaps he noticed my well-worn coat, and conjectured that I might be as poor and friendless as himself. If it was to this conjecture I was indebted for his sympathies, his instincts were not far astray.

Chapter Twelve.

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      Colonel Kipp.

      As soon as I had swallowed supper, I hastened to place myself en rapport with the landlord of the hostelry—whose name I had ascertained to be “Kipp,” or “Colonel Kipp,” as his guests called him. Though I had no intention of proceeding farther that night, I was desirous of obtaining some information, about the whereabout of my new estate, with such other facts in relation to it, as might be collected in Swampville. The landlord would be the most likely person to give me the desired intelligence. This distinguished individual I encountered soon after in the verandah—seated СКАЧАТЬ