CHAPTER V.
THE ALGONQUIN MAIDEN.
Early on one of those matchless summer mornings, for he loved to adoptthe hours kept by the birds, Edward set forth alone on a voyage ofdiscovery. The wilds of his native land had a great and enduringfascination for him. He never ceased to enjoy the charm of a forest sodense that one might stay in it for days without the danger ofdiscovery. Wandering as he listed, hurrying or loitering as it pleasedhim, and resting when weary beneath the outstretched arms of theover-shadowing wood, he drank deeply of the simple joys of a free andcareless savage life. His whole nature became sensitive and receptive,like that of a poet, an absorbent of the beauty and music of earth andair.
The long bright hours of this particular day were spent in exploringbayous and marshes, and in paddling among the ledges and around thelovely islands of Lake Couchiching. The dazzling blue expanse--mirrorof a sky as blue--was broadly edged with reeds and rushes, flags andwater-lilies, and framed by the thickly wooded shore and the greenstill cliffs that overhung the quiet waves. The air was laden with thesweet faint odours of early summer, and a soft breeze was lightlyblowing under skies as soft. The youthful voyager went ashore, and fora long time lay stretched on the sand with his gun watching forwild-fowl.
The woods were brilliant with flowers, blue larkspur, scarlet lichens,the white and yellow and purple cyprepedium, or lady's slipper, calledby the Indians 'moccasin flower,' the purple and scarlet iris, thebright pink blossom of the columbine, and all the other wind-blown andworld-forgotten flowerets of the forest.
As the day grew warmer he betook himself for coolness to a quietleaf-screened nook, beneath a rudely sculptured cliff, mantled infoliage. Here he reclined after his midday lunch, gazing out upon asky so blue that it seemed a sea washing the invisible shores ofheaven, and dreaming of as many things as usually occupy the fancy ofa young man on an idle June day. But one event of which he did notdream was rapidly approaching. A wild bird more brilliant andbeautiful than any he had so patiently waited for with his gun waspreparing to fall at his feet. Just above his head the Algonquinmaiden, Wanda, who like himself had strayed far from home, wasreposing warm and wearied in utter unconsciousness of the proximity ofany human being. The shining waters of the lake beneath her gave her asudden charming inspiration. Springing up with the alertness of oneupon whom fatigue lies as lightly as dew upon the sward, she swiftlydisrobed, and remained a moment graceful as a young maple in autumn,standing in beautiful undress, its delicate limbs bare of leaves, andall its light raiment fallen in a many coloured heap to the ground.
In the natural _abandon_ of the situation, Wanda neared the edge ofthe overhanging cliff, and sprang far out into the water. Edward, whowas still lounging under the rock, was startled by the flashingoutline--like a meteor from the heavens--of a human figure, which, inthe twinkling of an eye, had cleaved the smooth surface of the lake,sank far into its depths, and reappeared some distance off. Theglistening waters seemed to set in diamonds the beautifully shapedhead and neck of the Indian maiden as she disported herself in thecool lake, and made for a point of land where a winding pathway,covered to the water's edge by a profuse growth of young trees, led upto the cliff above.
Recalling the classical story, familiar to his youth, and the judgmentof the gods--"Henceforth be blind for thine eyes have seen toomuch!"--the young man concealed himself from view from the lake andwaited for some time before venturing to regain the cliff overhead.
The fear of not being able to overtake the Indian beauty preventedEdward from remaining a prisoner quite as long as his sense ofpropriety dictated. But his fear was justified. She had almost reachedthe vanishing point of his vision when he finally emerged from hisinvoluntary hiding-place. When at last he came up with her sheconfronted him with the wide innocent gaze of a child suddenlystartled in its play. Then the swift instinct of the savage, theuncontrollable desire to fly, took possession of her. But the youngman laid a light detaining hand upon her slim brown wrist. "Don'tleave me," he entreated, "I want to ask you the way home."
It was the only pretext he could invent on the spur of the moment, andit answered his purpose admirably. She stopped to view with undisguisedamazement, tempered with faint scorn, a human being who was so ignorantof the commonest affairs of life as to lose himself in the woods. Shenever dreamed of doubting his word. "I will be your guide," she said,with grave friendliness.
"You are very kind. I am afraid," said the youth with well-feigneddiscouragement, "that we are a long way from home."
"This is my home," said Wanda, as they stepped into the shadow of thelimitless forest. "It is only white men who are content to live on alittle patch of ground and shut the sky away from them. The Indian isat home everywhere."
"That is certainly an advantage, for when a person's home is spreadall over the continent he can never be lost. What should I have doneif I had not met you?"
She made no reply. Flitting before him like some gorgeous bird, he wasobliged to follow her at a pace that was anything but agreeable onthis hot afternoon. Presently she turned and came back. He was leaningagainst a tree, breathing heavily, and exhibiting every symptom ofextreme fatigue.
"You are forcing me to lead a terribly fast life," he declared. "Youhave no idea of how tired I am."
She laid a smooth brown hand upon his heart. If it beat faster at thetouch it was not sufficiently rapid to cause alarm. "You are not tiredat all," she declared with the air of a wise physician who is not tobe imposed upon, "besides there is need for haste. It is going torain."
And indeed the intense heat of the summer afternoon threatened to findrelief in a thunder shower. The atmosphere suddenly cooled anddarkened. The strange, shrill, foreboding chirp of a bird was the onlysound heard in the forest, except the rushing of a new-risen hurryingwind in the tree-tops. Then came the loud patter of rain on the leavesoverhead, accompanied by a heavy crash of thunder.
"The Great Spirit is angry," murmured the young girl, her eyesdilating, and her breast heaving.
"Well, experience teaches me that the best course to pursue whenpeople are angry is to keep perfectly still until the storm blowsover. It's no use talking back. Ah! don't do that," he implored asshe stooped and kissed the ground.
"But I must. It will propitiate the angry spirit and preserve us fromdanger."
"Oh, how can you waste your sweetness on the desert earth, in thatfashion? It _may_ preserve us from danger, but it is likely to have acontrary effect on me."
The temporary shelter afforded by the interlacing branches overheadwas now beaten down by the strength of the storm, which descended intorrents. "Ah! you are afraid," he observed softly, drawing nearer toher.
"It is for you," she responded, "The rain is no more to me than it isto a red squirrel, but you, poor canary bird, your yellow head shouldbe safe in its own cage."
This anxious, motherly tone brought a smile to the lips of the youngman. A sudden thought struck his guide. Grasping his hand she drew himswiftly along until they reached the hollow trunk of an immense oak,into which she hastily thrust him. "There is not room for both," shedeclared, looking like a dripping naiad, as the rain-drops thickenedabout her. "Then there is not room for me," responded Edward, whosesense of chivalry rebelled at the idea of looking from a place ofsecurity upon an unprotected woman, exposed to the fury of the storm.He drew her reluctant form beside him, but she was impatient and illat ease in her enforced shelter, as though she had been one of theuntamed things of the wood, caught and prisoned against its will.Outside the rain fell fast, while within crouched this beautifulcreature as remotely as possible from her human companion, and gazinglongingly forth upon the wild elements of whose life her own lifeseemed to form a vital part. Her pulse beat fast in sympathy with thefast beating rain. Her large liquid eyes were dark as woodland pools.She did not pay her companion the compliment of being embarrassed inthe slightest degree by his presence. Her only feeling was one ofphysical discomfort in her cramped position, and impatience with theman who could imagi
ne that for her such protection was necessary. Itcrossed his mind that here was a veritable child of nature, untamed,untamable, not only in her habits and surroundings, her modes of lifeand thought, but in her very nature, in every fibre of her being,every emotion of her mind. Her superb unconsciousness chagrined andthen irritated him. A beautiful woman might as well be a beautifulstatue as to persist in behaving like one. A sudden rash desire tookpossession of the youth to test the quality of this superhumanindifference. The opportunity was tempting, the moment auspicious; hemight never be so near her again. He laid one hand upon her arm, andbent his fair head till it reached her shoulder. Then he bestowed alingering kiss upon the lovely curve of her cheek where it melted intoher neck. She turned her proud head slowly, and looked at him througheyes that deepened and glowed.
"Wanda!" he breathed softly.
For answer he received a stinging blow on the face. Nor was heconsoled by the spectacle of a wild girl darting from under theshelter of the tree, and vanishing from his sight.
An Algonquin Maiden: A Romance of the Early Days of Upper Canada Page 5
