Waltey
Marion
078 Marion
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · Charles M. SkinnerO besedilu
Marion
- Vir
- Myths and Legends of Our Own Land
- Avtor
- Charles M. Skinner
- Jezik branja
- Slovenščina
- Jezik izvirnika
- English
- Čas branja
- 2 min branja
- Obseg
- 2 strani
- Naslov izvirnika
- 078 Marion
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
Marion
Cvetoča in dekliško nežna je bila Marion, čeprav se je oblačila v usnje in vihtela puško kakor moški. Bila je vnukinja starega Abrahama, ki je štel devetdeset let in je mnoga od njih preživel s svojimi knjigami v lični koči ob sotočju rek Youghiogheny in Monongahela. Koča je stala blizu poti, po kateri je Braddock korakal svojemu porazu naproti, in eden od zaostalih vojakov njegove vojske, koščen rdečelas mešanec, imenovan Rdeči volk, je potrkal na vrata in prosil za vodo. Ker ni videl nikogar razen Marion, si je drznil vstopiti in bi si ne le prilastil, kar je našel v hišici, temveč tudi poljubil dekle, če ne bi pograbila puške in ga držala na razdalji. Vendar bi se možakar kljub temu izpostavil strelu, ko ne bi mlad častnik v uniformi s srebrnimi našitki med potjo pogledal skozi odprta vrata in opazil, kaj se dogaja. Marion je pozdravil s snetim klobukom, nato pa nepridipravu strogo dejal: »Umaknite se. Vaši možje vas čakajo.« Rdeči volk se je potuhnjeno odplazil, Washington, kajti to je bil on, pa je prosil, ali bi smel za kratek čas počiti pod njuno streho.
Dekle in njen ded, ki se je kmalu zatem prikazal, sta mu rada ugodila in z enodnevno skrbno nego odvrnila vročico, ki je grozila mlademu vojaku. Marionina prirojena uglajenost, njena nežnost in živahnost so morale pritegniti Washingtona in podoba njenega obraza ga je spremljala še mnogo dni. Obljubil je, da se vrne, nato pa odjahal naprej in dohitel čete. Preživel je bitko, v kateri je bilo sedemsto njegovih tovarišev ustreljenih ali pobitih s tomahavki in skalpiranih. Neki Indijanec je nanj streljal enajstkrat in pet krogel ga je oplazilo; potem je divjak odnehal, saj je verjel, da je častnik pod Manitujevim varstvom. Ko se je umikajoča se kolona približala kraju, kjer je živela Marion, je pohitel naprej, da bi jo videl. Koča je bila pogorišče. Klical je, a odgovora ni bilo. Ko se je z žalostnim in zamišljenim obrazom obrnil proč, je imel okoli prsta ovit rjav pramen las, ki ga je nato vse do smrti hranil v svoji omarici, zavitega v papir z napisom »Marion, 11. julij 1755«.
Izvirnik
078 Marion
Naslednje strani prikazujejo izvirno besedilo za primerjavo.
Blooming and maidenly, though she dressed in leather and used a rifle like a man, was Marion, grand-daughter of old Abraham, who counted his years as ninety, and who for many of those years had lived with his books in the tidy cabin where the Youghiogheny and Monongahela come together. This place stood near the trail along which Braddock marched to his defeat, and it was one of the stragglers from this command, a bony half-breed with red hair, called Red Wolf, that knocked at the door and asked for water. Seeing no one but Marion he ventured in, and would have tried not only to make free with the contents of the little house but would have kissed the girl as well, only that she seized her rifle and held him at bay. Still, the fellow would have braved a shot, had not a young officer in a silver-laced uniform glanced through the open door in passing and discovered the situation. He doffed his chapeau to Marion, then said sternly to the rogue, “Retire. Your men are waiting for you.” Red Wolf slunk away, and Washington, for it was he, begged that he might rest for a little time under the roof.
This request was gladly complied with, both by the girl and by her grandfather, who presently appeared, and the fever that threatened the young soldier was averted by a day of careful nursing. Marion's innate refinement, her gentleness, her vivacity, could not fail to interest Washington, and the vision of her face was with him for many a day. He promised to return, then he rode forward and caught up with the troops. He survived the battle in which seven hundred of his comrades were shot or tomahawked and scalped. One Indian fired at him eleven times, and five of the bullets scratched him; after that the savage forbore, believing that the officer was under Manitou's protection. When the retreating column approached the place where Marion lived he hastened on in advance to see her. The cabin was in ashes. He called, but there was no answer. When he turned away, with sad and thoughtful mien, a brown tress was wrapped around his finger, and in his cabinet he kept it until his death, folded in a paper marked “Marion, July 11, 1755.”
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