Villanova Digital Library - Malaeska : the Indian Wife of the White Hunter / by Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.

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Full Title	Malaeska : the Indian Wife of the White Hunter / by Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.
Author	Stephens, Ann Sophia (Winterbotham), 1813-1886.
Date Added	9 January 2014
Format	Journal
Language	English
Publish Date	1860
Publisher	New York : Beadle and Company
Series	Beadle's Dime Novels > no. 1
Source	Dime Novel and Popular Literature
Alternate Title	Beadle's Dime Novels, no. 1.
Topic	Dime novels > Specimens. Indians of North America > Fiction. Man-woman relationships > Fiction.
About	More Details Permanent Link

OCR FREE oxcis MORE. 61 “ Malaeska ! ” His voice was sot‘tened,his lips quivered as the name once so sweet to his heart passed through them. “ Malaeska, the river is broad and deep. The keel of your boat leaves no track. Go ! the Great Spirit will light you with his stars. Here is eornand dried venison. Go in peace !” She looked at him with her wild tender eyes ; her lips began to tremble, her heart swelled with gentle sweetness, which was the grace of her civilization. She took the red hand of the savage and kissed it reverently. “ Farewell,” she said; “ Malaeska has no words ; her heart is full.” The savage began to tremble ; a glow of the old passion came over him. I “ Malaeska, my wigwam is empty ; will you go back ? It is my right to save or kill.” Malaeska pointed upward to the sky. “ He is yonder, in the great hunting-ground, waiting for Mal.-ieska to come. Could she go blushing from another chit-t"s wigwam '3" For one instant those sstvage features were convulsed ; then they settled down into the cold gravity of his former expression, and he pointed to the boat. She went down to the edvre of the water, while he took the blanket from his shoulders and placed it into the boat. Then he pushed the little craft from its mooring, and motioned her to jump in ; he for- bore to touch her hand, or even look on her thee, but saw her take up the ours and leave the shore without a word ;'but when she was out of sight, his head fell forward on his bosom, and he gradually sank to an attitude of profound grief. ‘ While he sat upon a fragment of rock, with a rich sunset crimson- mg the water at his feet, a canoe came down the river, urged by a White man, the only one who ever Visited his tribe. This man was a. missionary among the Indians, who held him in reverence as :1 gpeat medicine chief, whose power of good was something to marvel 0. . The chief beckoned to the missionary, who seemed in haste, but he drew near the shore. In a few brief but eloquent words the war: rior spoke of Malaeska, of the terrible fate from which she had just been rescued. and of the forlorn life to which she must henceforth be eonsigned. There was souiething grand in this eonipassiou that touched a thousand generous impulsesin the missionary‘s heart. lie was on his course down the 1‘iVe1'--for his duties lay with the Indians of many tribes - so he pronnsel to overtake the lonely wo- man, to comfort and protect her from harm till she reached some set- tlement. The good man kept his word. An hour after his canoe was attach- ed to ).l.i:1ltl.(‘.Sli:l.’S little craft bv its slender cable, and he was conversing kindly with her nf‘tl1ose things that interested his pure nature most.