Waltey
Hobomak
115 The Hobomak
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · Charles M. SkinnerO besedilu
Hobomak
- Vir
- Myths and Legends of Our Own Land
- Avtor
- Charles M. Skinner
- Jezik branja
- Slovenščina
- Jezik izvirnika
- English
- Čas branja
- 3 min branja
- Obseg
- 3 strani
- Naslov izvirnika
- 115 The Hobomak
O izvirniku
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land
Obsežna zgodovinska zbirka ameriških legend, ki jih je Skinner zbral in avtorsko rekonstruiral. Bralni jezik je Slovenščina, izvirnik pa prihaja iz vira Myths and Legends of Our Own Land v jeziku English.
Besedilo
Hobomak
Tako so Indijanci imenovali kraj Westboro v Massachusettsu, bližnji ribnik pa se je imenoval Hochomocko. Nekega dne je bilo v taboru rdečekožcev ob bregu vse polno vrveža, saj naj bi se njihova lepotica Iano poročila z mladim poglavarjem Sassacusom. Gostija je bila pripravljena in vsi so že čakali, da sedejo k njej, ko so ugotovili, da neveste ni. Neko dekle jo je videlo, kako se je z navihanim nasmehom na ustnicah izmuznila v gozd, in vedelo je, da se namerava s Sassacusom igrati skrivalnice, preden jo razglasijo za njegovo ženo, toda dan se je prevešal h koncu, nje pa ni bilo nazaj. Med tistimi, ki so pozno prispeli v tabor, je bil tudi Wequoash; prinesel je panterja, ki ga je ubil na Boston Hillu, in se kakor navadno bahal s svojo spretnostjo. Nekoč je s poglavarjem tekmoval za roko Iano in zdaj je kazal začudenje in zaskrbljenost, ker je še vedno ni bilo. Iskanje je trajalo dva dni, ob koncu drugega dne pa so iz jezera potegnili dekletovo truplo.
Na pogrebu ni nihče tako pretresljivo ječal kakor Wequoash. Sassacusa pa je izguba tako hudo prizadela, da je naslednji dan zbolel, in nihče ni tako vztrajno skrbel zanj kakor Wequoash; vendar je bilo vse zaman, saj je v tednu dni umrl tudi Sassacus. Wequoasha, ki je bil najmočnejši in najpogumnejši med preostalimi možmi v plemenu, so izvolili za njegovega naslednika.
Leto pozneje je čemerno posedal ob jezeru, ko je iz vode švignil plamen in je proti njemu priplul kanu. Skrivnostna sila ga je prisilila, da je vstopil vanj. Čoln je zdrvel proti plamenu, ki je ob njegovem približevanju privzel podobo Iano. Ko je plul čez mesto, kjer je migetala prikazen, je zaslišal žuborenje vode, toda nobenega drugega glasu ni bilo in nič ga ni ustavilo. Naslednje leto se je vse ponovilo, tedaj pa je duh spregovoril: »Samo še enkrat.«
Še tretjič ga je usoda privedla na tisti kraj, in ko se je bližala usodna ura, je sklical svoje ljudstvo: »Danes,« je dejal, »je dan moje smrti. Zlo sem storil in ta ura nikakor ne prihaja prezgodaj. Sassacus je bil vaš poglavar. Zavidal sem mu srečo in mu dal strupa, ko sem ga negoval. Še huje pa je bilo to, da sem na njen poročni dan zagledal Iano v kanuju. Zavrnila je mojo roko. Sedel sem v svoj kanu in jo začel preganjati po vodi, kakor da se le igrava, sredi jezera pa sem prevrnil njen čoln iz brezovega lubja in utonila je. Glejte! Prihaja!«
Medtem ko je govoril, je namreč luč spet zaplesala iz vode in čoln je sam od sebe priplul k bregu. Wequoash je vstopil vanj in s sklonjeno glavo naglo odplul. Tisti na obali so videli, kako se je plamen zgostil v žensko podobo, in iz njega se je oglasil glas: »To je moja ura!« Udarila je slepeča strela in ob grozljivem tresku groma so si vsi zakrili obraze. Ko so spet pogledali, sta čoln in plamen izginila. Odtlej je vsak Indijanec, ki je veslal čez kraj, kjer je potonil morilec, spustil v vodo kamen, in spomenik, ki je tako zrasel, je še danes mogoče videti na dnu ribnika.
Izvirnik
115 The Hobomak
Naslednje strani prikazujejo izvirno besedilo za primerjavo.
Such was the Indian name of the site of Westboro, Massachusetts, and the neighboring pond was Hochomocko. The camp of the red men near the shore was full of bustle one day, for their belle, Iano, was to marry the young chief, Sassacus. The feast was spread and all were ready to partake of it, when it was found that the bride was missing. One girl had seen her steal into the wood with a roguish smile on her lip, and knew that she intended to play hide-and-seek with Sassacus before she should be proclaimed a wife, but the day wore on and she did not come. Among those who were late in reaching camp was Wequoash, who brought a panther in that he had slain on Boston Hill, and he bragged about his skill, as usual. There had been a time when he was a rival of the chief for the hand of Iano, and he showed surprise and concern at her continued absence. The search went on for two days, and, at the end of that time, the girl's body was taken from the lake.
At the funeral none groaned so piteously as Wequoash. Yet Sassacus felt his loss so keenly that he fell into a sickness next day, and none was found so constant in his ministrations as Wequoash; but all to no avail, for within a week Sassacus, too, was dead. As the strongest and bravest remaining in the tribe, Wequoash became heir to his honors by election.
A year later he sat moodily by the lakeside, when a flame burst up from the water, and a canoe floated toward him that a mysterious agency impelled him to enter. The boat sped toward the flame, that, at his approach, assumed Iano's form. He heard the water gurgle as he passed over the spot where the shape had glimmered, but there was no other sound or check. Next year this thing occurred again, and then the spirit spoke: “Only once more.”
Yet a third time his fate took him to the spot, and as the hour came on he called his people to him: “This,” said he, “is my death-day. I have done evil, and the time comes none too soon. Sassacus was your chief. I envied him his happiness, and gave him poison when I nursed him. Worse than that, I saw Iano in her canoe on her wedding-day. She had refused my hand. I entered my canoe and chased her over the water, in pretended sport, but in the middle of the lake I upset her birch and she was drowned. See! she comes!”
For, as he spoke, the light danced up again, and the boat came, self-impelled, to the strand. Wequoash entered it, and with head bent down was hurried away. Those on the shore saw the flame condense to a woman's shape, and a voice issued from it: “It is my hour!” A blinding bolt of lightning fell, and at the appalling roar of thunder all hid their faces. When they looked up, boat and flame had vanished. Whenever, afterward, an Indian rowed across the place where the murderer had sunk, he dropped a stone, and the monument that grew in that way can be seen on the pond floor to this day.
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