Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 20, 2025
Him so as brother with Cy. Cy him not so. An-ina know. Cy him steal, steal, so," An-ina bent her lithe body in an attitude of stealing upon a victim. "Then him little gun go one I Marcel know. Him quick like lightning. Him brave much brave. Then him little gun go one. So. Both all kill up dead." For all the broken way of her talk, An-ina carried conviction. She knew both men.
And her laugh came again as she flung her final taunt. "Indian man say him love An-ina?" she cried. "Indian man not come fetch her quick? Indian man say him not leave mother for An-ina? Then An-ina spit at him." It was the savage breaking through the years of simple culture. The appeal of it all was beyond Marcel's power to resist.
It was a long enough story. Steve was anxious that nothing should be omitted that could convince the only man who could assist him in carrying out his plans. Sunset had nearly faded out of the sky by the time it was finished. He told everything as he knew it both from An-ina and the mother of Marcel. Also that which he had learned first hand, and from the diaries of Marcel Brand.
She hear him voice all soft, like like Ah, An-ina not know what it like. So she think. She say, what mak' Marcel all like this? Him find something. Him not scare. Oh, no. Marcel not scare nothing. No. Him much please. Marcel boy? No. Him big man. What him mak' big man much please. An-ina know. It woman. So she say." Marcel wanted to laugh. He wanted to shout his delight.
"Gone dead!" Steve turned with a start. He was looking into the handsome face of the squaw, An-ina, whose words he had echoed. "Missis all gone dead!" the squaw repeated with a solemn inclination of the head. But the re-affirmation was unneeded. Full confirmation was in her wide dark eyes, which were full of every grievous emotion short of tears.
She fall dead quick. Oh, yes. She not know gun from the 'gee-pole. She got not two hands. She not learn shoot caribou, same like Marcel. She big fool-woman. An-ina know. Marcel think that. Steve not think that way. Oh, no. Boss Steve plenty wise. So Marcel come wise later." Again came her low laugh. "This Keeko. This white girl so like the sun, the moon, all him star. Marcel love her? Oh, yes?
I've still got the picture of 'em in my mind. They were red red with blood, it seemed. They were sort of straining, too. And they shone shone like the blazing coals of a camp-fire." An-ina nodded, and into her dark eyes came a look of the dread of the days he had recalled. "That so," she said, in a tone of suppressed emotion. "It was bad so bad. Him carry Marcel. Oh, yes.
Setting a marker in the book he closed it reluctantly, and prepared to return the litter of documents to the drawers which stood open beside him. At that moment the door opened, and the tall figure of the squaw An-ina stood in the framing. "Him supper all fixed," she announced, in her quietly assured fashion. Steve looked up, and his eyes gazed squarely into the woman's handsome face.
We got to do all that Marcel's father reckoned to do. And when we've done it Marcel will be rich and great. Same as you would have him be. There's 'no nothing' for me anywhere now but with Marcel. You understand? You'll help?" All the softness had returned to the woman's eyes, untaught to hide those inner feelings of her elemental soul. "An-ina help? Oh, yes."
It was a touch that powerfully illustrated the lives of those who are far removed from the luxury of civilization, and who depend for every comfort, even for their very existence, upon those personal physical efforts, the failure of which, at any moment, must mean final and complete disaster. "Tell boy of bears, an' wolves, an' Injuns, an' debble-men, wot An-ina hers scairt of."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking