Chapter XIV A Rebuke
It was Saturday, a day of delight for the boys and girls of the Mission school, for to them it was a day of rest from the toil of study, and a visit home was permitted. On this morning the allotted chores were performed with redoubled energy; for the sooner the tasks were done, the earlier would be the start for home, the sooner the pleasures laid out for the day would begin.
The boys who had finished their work and had reported to the superintendent were already on their way to the village, shouting and singing as they went. Edwin watered the horses, and I started the hydraulic ram; then, having received our formal leave to go, we chased each other up the hill toward the village, and wrestled until we came to the place where the path branched; he took one way and I the other, but we continued to chaff back and forth until we were out of hearing.
After greeting my father and mother, the first thing I did was to run over to the barn and see the horses. When I had rubbed the noses of Kushas and Hintu and the rest, and had pitched down from the loft a lot of hay for them, I stepped over to Ka-he'-num-ba's house and looked in at the door, which stood wide open. His wife was sitting near the stove, quietly working on a pair of moccasins.
"Where is Ga-im'-ba-zhe?" I shouted.
"Oh! how you startled me!" she said. "Your uncle has gone to the stable with other boys; he left word for you to go there when you came."
Hardly had she finished speaking before I was off like the wind. On the ground by a fire sat Ga-im'-ba-zhe and the boys, all busy making game sticks, the Indian name of which we Mission boys translated into English as "bone slides." These were made out of willow saplings. After cutting the stick the proper length, the bark was removed, and a narrow strip of it wound around the peeled stick, which was then held over the blaze of the fire until the exposed part was scorched. When the binding was removed, the game-stick presented a mottled appearance, something like a snake.
The brown bodies of these partly nude little savages glistened against the sun as they worked, while the breezes played with their black totemic locks. They were not aware of my approach until I pitched a corn-cob into their midst, when they all threw up their heads to see who was coming.
"Ho! Little White-chest!" exclaimed Ga-im'-ba-zhe. "Have you come home?"