The first day in the land of apples was a bitter-cold one; for the snow
still covered the ground, and the trees were bare. A large bell rang for
breakfast, its loud metallic voice crashing through the belfry overhead
and into our sensitive ears. The annoying clatter of shoes on bare
floors gave us no peace. The constant clash of harsh noises, with an
undercurrent of many voices murmuring an unknown tongue, made a bedlam
within which I was securely tied. And though my spirit tore itself in
struggling for its lost freedom, all was useless.
A paleface woman, with white hair, came up after us. We were placed in a
line of girls who were marching into the dining room. These were Indian
girls, in stiff shoes and closely clinging dresses. The small girls wore
sleeved aprons and shingled hair. As I walked noiselessly in my soft
moccasins, I felt like sinking to the floor, for my blanket had been
stripped from my shoulders. I looked hard at the Indian girls, who
seemed not to care that they were even more immodestly dressed than I,
in their tightly fitting clothes. While we marched in, the boys entered
at an opposite door. I watched for the three young braves who came in
our party. I spied them in the rear ranks, looking as uncomfortable as I
felt. A small bell was tapped, and each of the pupils drew a chair from
under the table. Supposing this act meant they were to be seated, I
pulled out mine and at once slipped into it from one side. But when I
turned my head, I saw that I was the only one seated, and all the rest
at our table remained standing. Just as I began to rise, looking shyly
around to see how chairs were to be used, a second bell was sounded. All
were seated at last, and I had to crawl back into my chair again. I
heard a man's voice at one end of the hall, and I looked around to see
him. But all the others hung their heads over their plates. As I glanced
at the long chain of tables, I caught the eyes of a paleface woman upon
me. Immediately I dropped my eyes, wondering why I was so keenly watched
by the strange woman. The man ceased his mutterings, and then a third
bell was tapped. Every one picked up his knife and fork and began
eating. I began crying instead, for by this time I was afraid to venture
anything more.
But this eating by formula was not the hardest trial in that first day.
Late in the morning, my friend Judéwin gave me a terrible warning.
Judéwin knew a few words of English; and she had overheard the paleface
woman talk about cutting our long, heavy hair. Our mothers had taught us
that only unskilled warriors who were captured had their hair shingled
by the enemy. Among our people, short hair was worn by mourners, and
shingled hair by cowards!
We discussed our fate some moments, and when Judéwin said, "We have to
submit, because they are strong," I rebelled.
"No, I will not submit! I will struggle first!" I answered.
I watched my chance, and when no one noticed, I disappeared. I crept up
the stairs as quietly as I could in my squeaking shoes,--my moccasins
had been exchanged for shoes. Along the hall I passed, without knowing
whither I was going. Turning aside to an open door, I found a large room
with three white beds in it. The windows were covered with dark green
curtains, which made the room very dim. Thankful that no one was there,
I directed my steps toward the corner farthest from the door. On my
hands and knees I crawled under the bed, and cuddled myself in the dark
corner.
From my hiding place I peered out, shuddering with fear whenever I heard
footsteps near by. Though in the hall loud voices were calling my name,
and I knew that even Judéwin was searching for me, I did not open my
mouth to answer. Then the steps were quickened and the voices became
excited. The sounds came nearer and nearer. Women and girls entered the
room. I held my breath and watched them open closet doors and peep
behind large trunks. Some one threw up the curtains, and the room was
filled with sudden light. What caused them to stoop and look under the
bed I do not know. I remember being dragged out, though I resisted by
kicking and scratching wildly. In spite of myself, I was carried
downstairs and tied fast in a chair.
I cried aloud, shaking my head all the while until I felt the cold
blades of the scissors against my neck, and heard them gnaw off one of
my thick braids. Then I lost my spirit. Since the day I was taken from
my mother I had suffered extreme indignities. People had stared at me. I
had been tossed about in the air like a wooden puppet. And now my long
hair was shingled like a coward's! In my anguish I moaned for my mother,
but no one came to comfort me. Not a soul reasoned quietly with me, as
my own mother used to do; for now I was only one of many little animals
driven by a herder.