  INDIAN BOYS AT HAMPTON.MISS ISABEL B. EUSTIS.Mr. Hall’s account in the February Missionary of the departure of his Fort Berthold boys for Hampton, was a vivid picture to us who welcomed them here. We could almost see them bidding a sad good-bye to their friends, waving their blankets from the deck of the boat, and sympathized with their consciousness that they had “a long way to go, and a long time to stay, and it would be hard.” We wish the friends, who bade them good-bye that cold October morning, could see them to-day. If they could hear their quick and intelligent replies in the school-room, and watch them at their trades, we think they would recognize the record which the new thoughts and self-control of the year have left on their faces, and would feel that they have already gone a long way and a good one. Almka (White Wolf), would show them the blue farm-cart of which he is rather shyly proud, because he made it, wheels and all, with his own hands. White Breast would lay down the doors of a new wardrobe, he is finishing neatly, and Karunach would come from mending shoes, to tell them about Hampton, till their ideas out-stripped their tongues, and the old Indian sign-language came to the rescue. I think E-cor-rup-ta-ha would stop a minute, with a nonchalant air, to polish lovingly the big Corliss engine, before he shook hands even with them. Laughing Face and Ka-what would tell them how much they have made of the new carriage-house, the Indians are building. Tom Smith would throw away his plane, and meet them with a joke and his merry boyish laugh; and little Ara-hotch-kish would look up from his painting, with a quick shy glance of welcome, going straight to the warmest place they have saved in their hearts. Most of our Indians have gained a sufficient command of English to receive any idea which can be put in simple words; and if any reader of the Missionary is troubled with ennui or thinks of searching for a new sensation, I advise him to come to Hampton, and try telling the old children’s stories to Indians. Even Washington’s little worn-out hatchet gets a new sharp edge. Columbus on his voyage of discovery is followed with a slightly incredulous but intense interest, and all the Bible record reveals again a new force and fire. Imagine telling the story of David and Goliath for the first time to a school full of Indian boys and girls. The room is breathlessly still. Only kindling eyes and fixed attention show that the courage of the shepherd boy for his unequal contest, his cool disregard of his brother’s scoffs, his disdain of Saul’s armor and spear, his dauntless confidence in God, are meeting, one by one, a hearty response in the minds of the boys, a more timid one from the girls. Scarcely a suppressed Indian grunt or guttural disturbs the narrative, till the first slung-stone lodges fairly in the giant’s forehead, when little Ta-ta-ton-ka-skah on the back seat forgets all traditions of Indian stoicism, jumps about a foot in the air, and claps his hands in an ecstasy of delight. The bell rings, and the scholars must go to their classes, and fight their own |
|
