Buffalo War (The Dragoons #1), page 16
Jeffries was not happy with the answer. Before translating, he asked, “Are you talking about the Indian side o’ them things, or what your mission’s idea is of religion? This can get real serious y’know.”
“I understand, Mr. Jeffries,” Paxton said. “Please use my own words and tell them that such matters will not be ignored during their education.”
Jeffries frowned. “I ain’t sure what you mean by that, Mr. Paxton.”
“Just tell him that, please,” Paxton again requested.
“If you make me a part of shaming or lying to these folks, I’ll take it real bad,” Jeffries said in a serious tone.
Paxton smiled. “Then, you must learn to trust me, too, Mr. Jeffries. Please translate my words to them.”
Jeffries turned and answered the question. As he spoke, Paxton felt a surge of satisfaction. The first step in the reformation program had gone quite well.
Chapter Sixteen
The Kiwotas’ response to Gilbert Paxton’s call for students was better than he had expected. More than a hundred and twenty lodges offered children for the school in exchange for live beef and the rations of flour, sugar, and coffee along with a generous supply of tobacco. Since the mission’s school capacity was only fifty students, Paxton was able to take his choice of which of the youngsters would become students there.
He knew that desperation for food drove the Indians to send their children for an education, rather than a sincere desire to adopt civilized ways. But the schoolmaster took consolation in the fact that the result would be the same. The Kiwotas would be lead down the white man’s road.
Paxton chose a pleasant area within a grove of trees to meet the children one by one. By using Fred Jeffries’ interpreting skills, the mission teacher interviewed all the children, asking them questions and popping quick lessons on them in learning English words. Those that responded the best were chosen. After three days of testing, Paxton had thirty girls and twenty boys picked. Paxton had hoped to have an equal number of both sexes, but the people at the Mission of Indian Reform had advised him that the girls always offered more potential as students than the lads. The latter were a rough-and-tumble group raised in a warrior culture in which their independent thoughts and actions were admired. The young females, on the other hand, learned early to conform and be obedient.
Paxton wasn’t all that surprised that most of the young males were either sullen or didn’t take his questions seriously. The majority, bored with the procedure, paid scant attention to the teacher as their eyes kept turning to the inviting open country where fishing, hunting and other diversionary opportunities awaited them.
The girls, as was expected, were more eager to please. They looked on the oral examination as a game and responded in a positive way to the compliments given them on their participation when they gave correct answers or quickly mastered the words of English Paxton used to test their linguistic dexterity.
A few of the boys, however, had naturally quick minds that even their attitudes could not cover. These normally would have been those who would excel as leaders on the hunt or warpath when they reached adulthood. Paxton was particularly anxious to bring them into his program. Among those chosen was a bright boy of twelve summers named Swift Rabbit.
Paxton made his choices and informed the parents of the chosen children. When he took his leave, he told them that he would not return until he had the presents of food and cattle he promised through the Mission of Indian Reform. This was a carefully calculated move on his part. It was of the utmost importance to develop a bond of trust with the tribe. He wanted to prove that he spoke truthfully and had uttered no false promises to the Indians. The tribe took the children back to their lodges, and life got back to normal for them as they waited.
Two weeks after the interviews, Paxton returned with a large farm wagon driven by his handyman, George Fenwick. It was laden with barrels of the promised commodities. Trailing behind, with Fred Jeffries and a couple of off-duty dragoons acting as drovers, came the small herd of cattle for distribution.
The families of the children destined for the white man’s road presented themselves with their offspring. It was almost like a trading operation in the way that as each child stepped forward, the parents or guardians received one cow and the other items. The boy or girl was placed in the back of the wagon as the adults walked off with their prizes.
It took only an hour to make the swaps. When the cattle were gone, the soldiers returned to Fort Buffalo. Then, with the fifty little Kiwotas crammed into the back of the wagon, Fenwick whistled at the team of mules and flicked the reins, turning the vehicle around for the return journey to the school. The Kiwota youngsters, solemn and patient, stood clinging to each other in silence as they traveled toward an entirely new world.
Rachel, Paxton’s wife, was waiting for them when the group reached the mission. After Fenwick brought the wagon to a halt, he hopped off and lowered the tailgate. The adults helped the children to the ground. Mrs. Paxton ushered the boys off to one side and the girls to another.
Paxton addressed the group in English, saying, “We welcome you to our school. I am Mr. Paxton and this is my wife, Mrs. Paxton. Mr. Fenwick is also a member of the staff who will assist you in your education. We are going to have a busy time as we spend the rest of today settling in.”
Jeffries stood by to make sure there were no misunderstandings in communications. When he translated the greetings, he had to substitute the words “uncle” and “aunt” in place of “mister” and “missus” since no such words existed in the Kiwota tongue.
With that task done, the scout stepped back to see how the job of enrolling the children would be done. As Jeffries watched the proceedings, he felt a sudden and very strong sense of misgiving. Although the Paxtons seemed pleasant toward the children, in fact outright affectionate, Jeffries sensed that something in those children’s lives was about to be ripped away like the scalp from a fallen enemy.
Paxton and his wife gently pushed both groups of children into a single line. The youngsters, completely uncomprehending of what was going on, broke the formation several times as their curiosity caused them to begin to wander off to look at the buildings. The grips on their arms as they were put back into place became firmer and firmer until exclamations of pain were heard. But finally, the Kiwota youngsters understood they were to remain as they had been arranged.
When that had been accomplished, Paxton walked up to Jeffries, saying, “Thank you very much for your services today. We won’t be needing you for a while.”
Jeffries, his uneasiness increasing, looked at the strange sight of Indian children lined up like soldiers. “I can stay around for a while longer, Mr. Paxton.”
“It won’t be necessary,” Paxton assured him. “You may leave now. Don’t worry, you’ll still receive your fifty dollars a month whether your services are used full-time or not.”
“I ain’t worried about that,” Jeffries said. “But how’re you gonna be able to talk to these kids ’less I tell ’em what you’re saying.”
“We have our proven methods, don’t worry,” Paxton said.
“I can stay for a while,” Jeffries said.
“You are dismissed, sir!” Paxton said firmly.
Jeffries took one more quick glance at the children before going over to his horse and swinging up into the saddle. Then, not wanting to take another look at the boys and girls, he rode back across the prairie to his home.
Now, speaking in English in loud voices, Paxton and his wife led the two groups of children to their respective dormitories. It was the policy of the Mission of Indian Reform to see that its students were exposed completely to English at the earliest possible moment, even if they would not understand the words.
Under the plan, the girls had a building all to themselves while the bunks for the twenty boys were set up behind partitions in the classroom. All the children tramped into their quarters without protest as they numbly obeyed the white adults.
The first activity of the day was to be much more difficult for the lads than their female counterparts.
Paxton, with Fenwick’s less-than-gentle help, used shouts and sign language to get the young males to stand along one wall of the room. A single chair sat in the middle of the chamber. One by one, the boys were led to the chair where a pair of clippers wielded by the handyman quickly shed their heads of braids. He cut the hair down so short that no combing would be required. Only one boy showed any serious resentment. Swift Rabbit received a couple of hard clouts before he accepted his fate and allowed his glossy black locks to be shorn. Once he had been taken care of, the remaining boys submitted without argument.
When the barbering activity was finished, Fenwick had to sweep up the large piles of hair himself. An attempt to get a couple of the boys to do the job failed. Neither could quite comprehend what the strange-looking sticks with the stiff grass on the end were for. Because of not having much time, Paxton and Fenwick gave up that game, and the handyman did the cleanup himself.
The next order of business was to get the boys to strip down to the buff. They were puzzled by the procedure, but felt no particular shame or embarrassment. After all, most had run around naked as youngsters during the warm moons, and any swimming activities also required getting out of one’s clothes in front of others.
Each boy was taken individually to a large box where the two men picked out a couple of jackets and trousers that would fit the student. Then hats, shirts, underwear, socks, and shoes were added to the issue. Then the boy was sent back to his place by the wall while the next took his turn.
Confused and pawing through the strange garments they recognized as white men’s clothing, the naked boys remained silent. Some now felt a sort of threat in this new environment and wanted to leave. But a certain amount of fearful curiosity kept them in their places.
Once more Paxton and Fenwick spoke in loud, unintelligible words at the lads. Again, through gestures, they imparted their instructions. The boys understood and began donning first the long underwear. Although scratchy and uncomfortable, a couple of cuffs on the head dispelled any resistance to the strange apparel. Next came the trousers and shirts, the latter buttoned all the way up to, and including, the collar.
The shoes proved even more difficult.
Most of the boys, once they understood the heavy, stiff items were to be worn like moccasins, put them on without the socks. These had to be removed, then the socks pulled on, with all twists taken out. Several lads thought that should be enough footgear for anybody, and decided not to try the shoes. Shouts and slaps put an end to that nonsense. Within a half hour, all the Kiwota youngsters felt the discomfort of the unaccustomed foot coverings. All the fittings were not perfect, so Paxton and Fenwick made sure that if the proper size was not available, at least the suffering Indian had a pair too large rather than enduring the painful pinching of a smaller size.
Finally, shorn and dressed, the twenty lads were taken out in the same kind of line in which they had entered the building. Their native garments stayed piled up on the floor, where Fenwick would later gather them up for burning.
The girls were already outside when the boys made their reappearance in the yard. Rachel Paxton had had an easier time and been able to tend to the dressing of the young females without assistance. Their hair was left as it was, but they now wore simple calico dresses and, like the male students, uncomfortable shoes. The two groups of Indians stared at each other. The girls could not comprehend why the boys’ braids had been cut off. Even under the hats they wore, there was something alien and almost sinister in their appearance because of the short-cropped hair.
The next order of business was instruction in the sanitary facilities of the mission.
Two outhouses had been located near the rear of the buildings. Gestures and shouting conveyed the lesson that one was for the boys and the other for the girls. It took more effort to make the little Kiwotas understand that they were expected to relieve themselves through the holes in the seats; but finally they not only understood, but several demonstrated the acquisition of the knowledge by tending to nature’s call.
The next thing on the agenda was the evening’s meal. Although it was three hours before the actual eating was to be done, the activity was as much for teaching as nutrition, including the preparation, setting of tables, serving, eating, and finally the clean-up.
All duties were organized along strict lines of sex with the girls tending to the cooking and serving while the boys did the more physical chores of hauling water, handling the arranging of the chairs and tables, and chopping wood for the stove.
The actual eating of the meal took a long time. The use of knife, fork, and spoon had to be demonstrated many times by the three grown whites, enforced by slaps on the hands of youngsters who preferred their own style of using—or not using—the utensils. But finally, after a hectic period, the meal was consumed and the clean-up begun.
Once more, the boys and girls had decidedly different chores. The girls cleared the tables and washed up while the boys moved the furniture and went about sweeping and mopping the floor, finally grasping the purpose of a broom. The whole affair was an unpleasant time for all concerned as more punishment and angry correction was given than praise.
The end of supper marked only the finish of one ordeal and the beginning of yet another. The next lesson down the white man’s road was not only the making of beds, but sleeping in them inside the buildings in which they were located. The boys marched off to their sleeping quarters behind the partition in the classroom while the girls went to their dormitory.
The bedclothes used by the Mission of Indian Reform consisted of coarse wool blankets and muslin sheets and pillowcases to be placed on straw-filled mattresses. Once more the girls adapted quicker and more easily than the boys. Paxton and Fenwick slapped and yelled until the boys had their beds made up in an acceptable manner. After that followed a stripping off of clothing and the issue of nightshirts to everyone. With that accomplished, the children were ordered to bed, and lanterns were turned off.
The air in the enclosed rooms seemed stuffy to the Kiwota youth. The whites believed that there was harm and sickness in the night air, so they kept the windows shut.
Swift Rabbit threw the covers off and lay on the sack, staring at the ceiling. He rubbed his hands over his nearly shaven head and felt the strange sensation. Now his hair was even shorter than his white friend’s, Fox, the son of the soldier chief Looks Ahead. He wondered what Fox would think if he could see him in his white man’s clothes and wearing the heavy shoes and wide-brimmed hat given him that day.
The children, used to sleeping in the open, stayed awake until the early hours of the morning when physical exhaustion from the day’s hectic activities finally lulled them into slumber.
It was a short night for the little Kiwotas.
Rachel Paxton took her time and gently woke the sleeping girls. She went to each individually, giving the child a warm smile and a gentle shaking if the Indian closed her eyes again. The girls, used to responding quickly to grandmothers and mothers to attend to chores, were up and ready for their first lessons in washing within a very few minutes.
The scene was entirely different over in the classroom where the boys slept. Indian warriors were fierce fighters and tireless hunters, but when not occupied with those activities, they tended to be physically lazy. They slept late, let the women handle the drudgery, and pretty much went through each day as they damn well pleased. This was the custom of the young males as well. If they weren’t busied by exclusively male pursuits, they also sat around and rested, idly watching their sisters and other female members of the family do the chores.
This part of their lives was about to go through a drastic change.
Paxton and Fenwick went behind the partition and called out for everyone to wake up. The response to the disturbance was less than they had hoped for, so both men charged into the sleeping area, yelling and physically rousing the sleeping boys. The lads came awake in alarm. Such early-morning behavior generally meant danger from a surprise attack by tribal enemies. The young Kiwotas leaped from their beds and started to run, but the two adults stopped them in their tracks.
Several boys, including Swift Rabbit, were sent to draw water for washing up. When they arrived at the mission well and found the girls doing the same thing, they were mortified. All refused, throwing down their buckets. Men might perform such chores while out on hunting or war parties, but never when in the village and certainly never at the same time women tended to such tasks. This adherence to tribal customs and tradition enraged Fenwick, who pummeled and pushed the lads back to the classroom dormitory.
Paxton saw no sense in trying to reason with the boys. Not only would they be unable to comprehend his words, but they would stubbornly resist doing anything they deemed women’s work. It was time to get very serious about reeducating the youngsters and bringing them onto the white man’s road.
Paxton went to the teacher’s cabinet behind the desk at the head of the classroom. He retrieved two thin, but strong hickory sticks. He kept one and passed the other over to Fenwick.
The education of the Kiwota boys went into full gallop with each blow of the instruments on their bare buttocks.
Chapter Seventeen
Colonel Ned Wheatfall and his ragtag militia fell behind in their schedule to have a confrontation with the Kiwota Indians. No matter how hard they tried, the buffalo-hunters-turned-soldiers could not find a situation in which a confrontation could be manufactured.
When Wheatfall first heard that the Mission of Indian Reform would be giving cattle, flour, sugar, coffee, and tobacco to the Indians, he had paid the matter little heed. Even though his second in command, Captain Red-Eye Morgan, expressed worry over the situation, Wheatfall had laughed.
“Aw, hell, Red-Eye!” Wheatfall told him. “Giving a few o’ them Injuns cows and some tobaccy ain’t gonna make no differ’nce in the whole bunch still going hungry. They’ll be out in small groups looking for buffalo like they did in the old days. Then we’ll hit one or two of them little bands and really stir things up.”
