WYNADOTTÉ (Unabridged). Джеймс Фенимор Купер

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СКАЧАТЬ tink.”

      “Yes, that also cannot be denied. Yet, I fear the next quarrel will be among ourselves, Nick.—The government at home, and the people of the colonies, are getting to have bad blood between them.”

      “Dat very queer! Why pale-face mo’der and pale-face darter no love one anoder, like red-skin?”

      “Really, Nick, you are somewhat interrogating this evening; but, my squaw must be a little desirous of seeing the inside of her house, as well as its outside, and I must refer you to that honest fellow, yonder, for an answer. His name is Mike; I hope he and you will always be good friends.”

      So saying, the captain nodded in a friendly manner, and led Mrs. Willoughby towards the hut, taking a foot-path that was already trodden firm, and which followed the sinuosities of the stream, to which it served as a sort of a dyke. Nick took the captain at his word, and turning about he met the county Leitrim-man, with an air of great blandness, thrusting out a hand, in the pale-face fashion, as a sign of amity, saying, at the same time—

      “How do, Mike?—Sago—Sago—grad you come—good fellow to drink Santa Cruz, wid Nick.”

      “How do, Mike!” exclaimed the other, looking at the Tuscarora with astonishment, for this was positively the first red man the Irishman had ever seen. “How do Mike! Ould Nick be ye?—well—ye look pretty much as I expected to see you—pray, how did ye come to know my name?”

      “Nick know him—know every t’ing. Grad to see you, Mike—hope we live together like good friend, down yonder, up here, over dere.”

      “Ye do, do ye! Divil burn me, now, if I want any sich company. Ould Nick’s yer name, is it?”

      “Old Nick—young Nick—saucy Nick; all one, all to’ther. Make no odd what you call; I come.”

      “Och, yer a handy one! Divil trust ye, but ye’ll come when you arn’t wanted, or yer not of yer father’s own family. D’ye live hereabouts, masther Ould Nick?”

      “Live here—out yonder—in he hut, in he wood—where he want. Make no difference to Nick.”

      Michael now drew back a pace or two, keeping his eyes fastened on the other intently, for he actually expected to see some prodigious and sudden change in his appearance. When he thought he had got a good position for manly defence or rapid retreat, as either might become necessary the county Leitrim-man put on a bolder front and resumed the discourse.

      “If it’s so indifferent to ye where ye dwell,” asked Mike, “why can’t you keep at home, and let a body carry these cloaks and bundles of the missuses, out yonder to the house wither she’s gone?”

      “Nick help carry ‘em. Carry t’ing for dat squaw hundred time.”

      “That what! D’ye mane Madam Willoughby by yer blackguard name?”

      “Yes; cap’in wife—cap’in squaw, mean him. Carry bundle, basket, hundred time for him.”

      “The Lord preserve me, now, from sich atrocity and impudence!” laying down the cloaks and bundles, and facing the Indian, with an appearance of great indignation—“Did a body ever hear sich a liar! Why, Misther Ould Nick, Madam Willoughby wouldn’t let the likes of ye touch the ind of her garments. You wouldn’t get the liberty to walk in the same path with her, much less to carry her bundles. I’ll answer for it, ye’re a great liar, now, ould Nick, in the bottom of your heart.”

      “Nick great liar,” answered the Indian, good-naturedly; for he so well knew this was his common reputation, that he saw no use in denying it. “What of dat? Lie good sometime.”

      “That’s another! Oh, ye animal; I’ve a great mind to set upon ye at once, and see what an honest man can do wid ye, in fair fight! If I only knew what ye’d got about yer toes, now, under them fine-looking things ye wear for shoes, once, I’d taich ye to talk of the missus, in this style.”

      “Speak as well as he know how. Nick never been to school. Call ‘e squaw, good squaw. What want more?”

      “Get out! If ye come a foot nearer, I’ll be at ye, like a dog upon a bull, though ye gore me. What brought ye into this paiceful sittlement, where nothing but virtue and honesty have taken up their abode?”

      What more Mike might have said is not known, as Nick caught a sign from the captain, and went loping across the flat, at his customary gait, leaving the Irishman standing on the defensive, and, to own the truth, not sorry to be rid of him. Unfortunately for the immediate enlightenment of Mike’s mind, Joel overheard the dialogue, and comprehending its meaning, with his native readiness, he joined his companion in a mood but little disposed to clear up the error.

      “Did ye see that crathure?” asked Mike, with emphasis.

      “Sartain—he is often seen here, at the Hut. He may be said to live here, half his time.”

      “A pritty hut, then, ye must have of it! Why do ye tolerate the vagabond? He’s not fit for Christian society.”

      “Oh! he’s good company, sometimes, Mike. When you know him better, you’ll like him better. Come; up with the bundles, and let us follow. The captain is looking after us, as you see.”

      “Well may he look, to see us in sich company!—Will he har-r-m the missus?”

      “Not he. I tell you, you’ll like him yourself when you come to know him.”

      “If I do, burn me! Why, he says himself, that he’s Ould Nick, and I’m sure I never fancied the crathure but it was in just some such for-r-m. Och! he’s ill-looking enough, for twenty Ould Nicks.”

      Lest the reader get an exaggerated notion of Michael’s credulity, it may be well to say that Nick had painted a few days before, in a fit of caprice, and that one-half of his face was black, and the other a deep red, while each of his eyes was surrounded with a circle of white, all of which had got to be a little confused in consequence of a night or two of orgies, succeeded by mornings in which the toilet had been altogether neglected. His dress, too, a blanket with tawdry red and yellow trimmings, with ornamented leggings and moccasins to correspond, had all aided in maintaining the accidental mystification. Mike followed his companion, growling out his discontent, and watching the form of the Indian, as the latter still went loping over the flat, having passed the captain, with a message to the barns.

      “I’ll warrant ye, now, the captain wouldn’t tolerate such a crathure, but he’s sent him off to the woods, as ye may see, like a divil, as he is! To think of such a thing’s spakeing to the missus! Will I fight him?—That will I, rather than he’ll say an uncivil word to the likes of her! He’s claws they tell me, though he kapes them so well covered in his fine brogues; divil burn me, but I’d grapple him by the toes.”

      Joel now saw how deep was Michael’s delusion, and knowing it must soon be over, he determined to make a merit of necessity, by letting his friend into the truth, thereby creating a confidence that would open the way to a hundre’d future mischievous scenes.

      “Claws!” he repeated, with an air of surprise—“And why do you think an Injin has claws, Mike?”

      “An Injin! D’ye call that miscoloured crathure an Injin Joel. Isn’t it one of yer yankee divils?”

      “Out upon you, СКАЧАТЬ