Through Rushing Water Part 15

Will hammered the lid back into place and rolled the flour to the house.

Sophia's stomach churned. Had they been eating food made with infested flour all this time?

"I'll send samples to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs," James said. "See if he'll eat it."

The third contained hundreds of pairs of baby booties, thirty andirons, and one palm-sized porcelain doll.

"A Frozen Charlotte," Nettie explained to Sophia. "It's from a ballad about a foolish girl who refused to wrap up warmly for a sleigh ride and froze to death."

"Now the entire tribe is in danger of becoming Frozen Charlottes through the government's foolishness."

Henry held up an andiron. "Useless. All our people have stoves."

"I'll see what I can make out of them." Will took it from him. "Least they didn't send mirrors, combs, and ax handles this time."

"Perhaps these might be useful." Sophia studied the booties. "They might fit Julia's Timothy and Moon Hawk's White Buffalo Girl."

"Two thousand of each for a tribe of seven hundred?" James ran his hand over his face.

Gra.s.s waved gold and burgundy on the bluffs. Cottonwood trees fluttered yellow. Winter approached at a gallop.

Nettie found a loose thread and pulled, unraveling the bootie. "Know how to knit?"

"Unfortunately, no. I misspent my youth learning useless embroidery st.i.tches." A brisk northwest wind sliced through her shawl. "As Peter the Great said, 'Delay is death.' I should like to know what curse word I am permitted to use."

Henry's scowl threatened to knock her feet out from beneath her. James fled before the oncoming sermon, and Nettie hurried back to her kitchen.

"One of the drawbacks of growing up around soldiers is a rather extensive education in inappropriate language," Sophia said by way of apology. "I shall endeavor to discipline my speech."

The reverend closed his eyes and released a long breath. Sophia braced for a lecture on guarding her words, bridling her tongue, and speaking always with grace. She had heard it before, in several languages. Instead he surprised her with a murmured, "Thank you."

"Pardon me?"

He speared her with a narrow gaze. "You barge in here with all your vigor and cheer . . . making me feel even more drained and ineffectual than ever. But if you've taken up swearing-"

"Resumed," she corrected.

"Resumed swearing . . . well then." His beard twitched with a fleeting smile. "Guess I'd better pray for you."

Sophia bowed her head, shamed by her own deficiency. She and Henry were on the same side, G.o.d's side. They both cared about this mission. But instead of working with him, she waved the battle flag at every opportunity.

"Only if you allow me to pray for you," she whispered.

In mid-September the school filled with new students. The first arrived shortly after lunch. A family walked up the path from the other villages, opened the school door, and deposited their son. Thomas Jefferson slid over to accommodate the boy.

Ah, yes, Sophia remembered him from the Fourth of July celebration. The brother who resembled Louis-Charles, Marie-Antoinette's son. Two minutes later, another child arrived. Then three more. Was it another Ponca celebration? No, they always included their children.

"Welcome, visitors. We hope you will join us every day."

"Teacher. Miss Makinoff." Frank finally remembered to raise his hand. "They're here for the annuity."

The annuity had come? A steamboat had whistled midmorning, a common occurrence. How had the families from Hubdon and Point Village known it contained the annuity? Had the Mission Board sent her requested supplies? And what should she do- Ignore the rus.h.i.+ng water.

Five more children wandered in.

"All right, students. Let us divide into teams." Chaos broke out and Sophia had to resort to prayer. "Heavenly Father, please help us learn what we need to know about money. Amen."

Authority restored, Sophia mixed the visitors among the regulars. When Catharine Beecher had emphasized the importance of pupils instructing each other, Sophia had not imagined how essential her advice would be. She distributed her coins. "Today we shall learn about money. Everyone in your group must know how to count, know the names and value of money, and know how to add it up. Recitations begin in five minutes."

While the students worked, Sophia set up a store in the front. What could she use for stock? She looked around the room. Every student needed shoes. Sophia took hers off. Henry was too busy with the annuity to come and check on her. She set them on the desk.

Sophia briefed Frank and Marguerite for their upcoming debut in "The Perils of Shopping." From their accurate memories and dramatic storytelling, the Poncas had a well-developed oral tradition. Using drama to reinforce lessons was a natural choice.

When even the youngest could say the names of the coins, Sophia directed the students to sit on the floor.

Marguerite played the storekeeper. "What do you want, you mangy dog?"

Sophia had not told Marguerite to be rude. Did she speak from experience?

Frank held out a few coins. "Please, sir-"

"Ma'am," Sophia whispered.

"Please, ma'am. I need shoes. But this is all I have."

Marguerite grabbed all the coins and shoved the shoes into his hands. "Good-bye."

Sophia applauded. "All right, students, what went wrong?"

Everyone had an opinion, but not everyone spoke English. "He showed how much he had." "He did not ask how much the shoes were." "She took all of the money." "He should slit her throat for name-calling."

"Yes, name-calling is wrong. But responding in anger, hurting people, is wrong too. Frank might end up in jail, or the storekeeper might shoot him. Let us try again." Sophia put the shoes back on the desk.

"Good morning," Frank said.

"No Indians! Get your dirty carca.s.s out of here." Marguerite waved like she was shooing chickens.

Oh dear. Were the shopkeepers in town so evil?

Frank stood his ground. "I am a Christian like you. I have money and I need to buy shoes for my family."

"Money? How much?"

Frank picked up a shoe. "How much are your shoes?"

"One dollar."

"This one is worn. I would like new."

Marguerite put an invisible pair on the desk. "You're mighty particular for an Indian," she drawled, then pretended to spit on the floor.

"The Great White Father says I must learn to live like a white man." Frank pretended to try on the new shoes. "These are too small."

"Okay." Another invisible pair appeared and this time they fit. "That'll be two dollars."

"You said one dollar."

"For the worn-out shoes. New ones are two."

"Hmm, maybe I don't need them so bad. How about one dollar and one dime?"

"You're killing me." The storekeeper crossed her arms. "One dollar and two quarters."

"One dollar and one quarter."

"Sold!"

The cla.s.s applauded. Large hands clapped at the window, and Sophia turned to see Will standing outside. Why was he here? He winked and jogged back toward the village, not giving her time to ask questions. She hoped he would not tell Henry he had caught her with her shoes off.

The students had a lively discussion, then Joseph and Susette tackled the complicated issue of credit.

"No fair!" the students cried when the drama finished. "The shoes will be worn out before Joseph pays for them."

"Right. So what should he do?"

"Don't buy on credit."

"But he needs shoes. Winter's coming."

"Wear moccasins."

"If he had moccasins, dog, he wouldn't be buying shoes."

"No name-calling." Sophia squeezed between the two boys. "He needs to have it written down, one for him and one for the store." After a string of broken treaties, no wonder the Poncas had no faith in written promises. "The paper should say Joseph will pay a little more, not the cost of six shoes."

"That's why we learn to read," said Marguerite.

Thomas Jefferson and John Adams gave a final drama.

"Hey, Injun," John whispered from behind the desk as Thomas strolled by. "Got something for you. You're going to love it."

"What?"

John popped up and handed him the dipper. "Fire water."

"Oh yeah!" Thomas handed him a quarter, drank, staggered around, then fell flat on his back.

John crept out, emptied Thomas's pockets of his imaginary money, gave him a kick, then ran back to his hiding place.

"Students?"

"He wake up and hit his woman and his children."

"And he will smell bad. And be sick."

Sophia asked, "So what should he do?"

"No buy. No drink."

"And tell the agent. It is against the law to sell liquor on Indian land."

Sophia glanced at her watch, then hurried into her shoes. "Please line up-we shall march to the agency to find your families." And hope the students had learned enough to help their parents.

Will watched the line of children march to the agency village. At the end, Sophia held Rosalie's hand and carried someone's baby. Will would have Brown Eagle put the word out: don't send children to school until they're five years old.

The yellow puppies did their sitting trick, like some sort of circus act. Sophia told them, "I am sorry. I had many extra mouths to feed today. All the food is gone."

The students spotted their parents, broke ranks, and ran to them. Sophia saw him. "Do you know whose baby this is?"

"No, I-"

A woman from Hubdon approached. The baby grinned and reached for her. Sophia handed the infant over. "There are more than a thousand people here. Who are they?"

"Mixed breeds, white squaw-men," Will said. "That's what takes so long, deciding who's in the tribe and who's not. Although seven dollars seems hardly worth fighting over."

"Pardon me?" Sophia's eyes widened. "Please tell me more is coming. They cannot survive the winter on seven dollars."

An officer spotted Sophia, trotted his gray over, and dismounted. "Miss Makinoff. I hear the annuity arrived. We've come to maintain order."

"Lt. Higgins, this is Mr. Dunn, the man who built this village. I met Lt. Higgins on the journey here from Yankton."

"Agency carpenter," Will corrected. As rickety as the buildings were, he didn't want blame. "Pleased to meet you." No wonder Sophia wasn't interested in James or Henry-she had an officer on her hook. Military life probably seemed a good fit, what with her father being in the cavalry and her wandering nature.

"Lt. Higgins, the Brule purloined all the Ponca horses. If you happen to come across any extras in your line of work, I would appreciate if you would send them our way."

The officer brayed like a donkey, all open mouth and big teeth. "Oh, Miss Makinoff. You are a delight. Horses are near as scarce as ladies around here."

"Well, I know you are frightfully busy, so I shall let you go."

Will suppressed a grin. She'd just sent him off with a polite boot in the b.u.t.t, and he didn't even know it. Sophia turned toward the river where a half dozen men had pulled up boats and laid out stuff to sell on blankets. "Who might those be?" she asked Will.

"From the town."

"Perhaps I can be of some use."

"A verse in Proverbs warns about meddling."

"The Bible warns against usury, admonishes us to look out for widows and orphans, and to work for justice."