The Middle Five: Indian Boys at School — John Shaqi
The Middle Five: Indian Boys at SchoolLa Flesche, Francis
History
The Middle Five: Indian Boys at School
La Flesche, Francis
Indians of North America -- Juvenile literature
This was the first night I had ever spent out of doors. The novel
experience, and the excitements of the day, filled my mind with strange
speculations, and I lay awake long after my companions had gone to
sleep. Now and then, I heard the chatter of birds and the whirring of
their wings, as they flew by far above me, and I wondered if they could
see in the darkness. The roar of the river filled the still air, and
the crash of a tree uprooted by the current sent its echoes far and
wide; then the sounds about me grew to faint murmurings, until I was
conscious of them no more.
When I awoke, the dawn was coming, and the stars were beginning to turn
pale. There was a gentle stir in the tent near by; a tall man came out,
and his shadowy form passed from view into the slowly rising mist. A
woman moved noiselessly to the fire-place, and, bending over, began
to gather the embers together, blowing them to life with her breath.
The gray streak along the horizon slowly turned to a rosy hue; here
and there the birds began drowsily to peep and twitter, then, when the
sun shot its rays through the heavens, a thousand voices burst into
rapturous song.
My companions awoke, and one by one we climbed down the rude ladder to
the ground.
When we gathered for breakfast, the mother, as she helped the food,
asked, "Where is Na-zhe'-de-ah?" (Lester.)
Warren and I looked at each other; neither of us could explain his
absence.
"Call him," said the good woman, addressing her son; "we must hurry,
the sun is up!"
No response came to the young man's call. It was evident that Lester
had slipped away before any one was awake.
Breakfast over, Me-chah'-pe and his sons saddled and packed the horses,
while the wife and daughter gathered the various utensils. Warren and
I tried to make ourselves useful by holding up the packs with our
shoulders, as they ware being placed on the horses.
Me-chah'-pe looked at Warren, then at me, as he shouldered his rifle,
and said, "I am sorry that I have not enough horses for all of us to
ride. You see those I have are heavily burdened; so we will have to do
as our fathers did, take one step forward, then another, and keeping
stepping forward until we get to the place where we are going. Are we
ready? Here we go!"
And we did go,--horses, dogs, and all. Soon we were joined by the man
of the lonely sod house and his family, and together we made quite a
cavalcade as we went up hill and down hill, and up hill and down hill
again. By and by, we reached a long ridge, called by the Indians "the
tortuous ridge," which zigzagged in a westerly direction, and along it
lay the hunting trail.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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