The Indian School by Gloria Whelan Read Free Book Online

flames against the black night sky. Huddled next to the warmth of the fire was a lone figure keeping watch.
    Some of the syrup was preserved in bottles. A very little was poured onto clean snow. It hardened like taffy and we all had it as a treat. The rest of the syrup was boiled until it thickened. It was then placed in a great pan. Like witches stirring their brew, we took turns paddling the sticky mixture until it turned into sugar. We had the sugar on our porridge and in our corn cakes. Raven said dog was very tasty cooked in maple syrup, but we did not think of trying that.
    By the end of March the sugaring was completed. My uncle and aunt were grateful for all that Lost Owl had done. Uncle Edward had something to say to Lost Owl. After one or two attempts he announced, “Lost Owl, you would be most welcome to stay here at the school. You can teach the students to sow and harvest our crops. In the winter you can hunt and in the spring there will be the maple syrup. You will have a home here and Matthew and Raven can continue their schooling.”
    â€œMatthew is a bright little boy,” Aunt Emma said. “He will do well in school.” After a moment she added, “Raven is bright as well. She will profit by staying here and continuing to improve her deportment.” My aunt spoke in her usual stern way. Yet I saw how softly she looked at Matthew. Though she would not say so, she had grown to care for Raven as well. During the making of the maple sugar she had seen how hard Raven worked and how quickly she obeyed her father.
    For myself I longed to have them remain. Like my aunt I felt tender toward Matthew. What I cared about most was having Raven stay. Though there were many students at the school, if she went away I would be very much alone.
    Lost Owl was silent for a moment. The frown that he had lost returned. “I thank you, but it cannot be. Our home is in our village. My sister will come there to help me care for Star Face and Raven. Though I leave, I will not forget your kindness.”
    When I copied out the poem about the daffodils, I found some lines that I wrote out for Raven:
    But if the while I think on thee, dear friend ,
    All losses are restored and sorrows end .
    When the time came for parting, I gave her the piece of paper on which I hadwritten the bit of Shakespeare’s poem. Raven took the paper but said no word to me. There was a distant look in her eyes. In her thoughts I believe she was already back in her village.
    It was different with Matthew. He put his arms around me and then burrowed into the folds of Aunt Emma’s apron. At first he refused to be separated from her. At last Lost Owl tempted him away with a promise that he should have his own bow and arrows. At that he went happily. I thought life would be pleasant for Matthew. Everyone loved him. If one friend passed out of his life, soon there would be another to take that friend’s place.
    The whole school was there to say good-bye. Afterward I stood at the door with my aunt while the three figures grew smaller and smaller. At last there was nothing to see but the empty trail. Aunt Emma put her arm around me and drew me to her. In all the months I had beenthere it was the first time she had shown me such affection. I could not hold back my tears. I would miss Raven. I also envied her. I longed to have my mother and father return, as Lost Owl had returned, and take me away with them. As my aunt pressed me to her, I felt her tears mingle with mine. At last she pulled away. Straightening her skirts, she said, “I cannot stand here all day when there is work to be done. Go to the kitchen, Lucy, and see if you cannot be of help to Mary.”

    Like myself, Mary had been thinking of her family. I found her standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hands at her sides. “I have just remembered my Indian name,” she said. “It is Wabomeme, which means ‘dove.’ Will you call me that when we