When I crept into my bed the clock below struck one. For a long while I lay awake. I could hear noises downstairs, Gray-beard's door open and close, and the door of Brush's room. I heard a window raised, then everything became still. We did not know how fondly we were attached to Brush, how truly he had been our leader, until we four, left alone, lingered around his grave in the shadowy darkness of night, each one reluctant to leave. The Mission bell rang for evening service, and with slow steps we moved toward the school--no longer "The Middle Five." End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Middle Five: Indian Boys at School, by Francis La Flesche