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That you be." "Yes, Umatilla, I believe an Indian's word you may trust mine. I will be to your boy what you may have him become. The Indian is true to his friends. I believe in you. I will be true." The old chief drew his blanket round him proudly. "Boston tilicum," said he, "if ever the day of trouble comes, I will protect you and the log school-house. You may trust my word. Indian speak true."
The old chief watched the teacher's hand. He seemed waiting for a word of hope; but Mr. Mann did not speak. The old chief lifted his head at last, and said; appealingly: "Boston tilicum, you do not know how I feel! You do not know the birds know you do not know!" The teacher rubbed the boy's breast and arms, and said: "He will revive." "What, Boston tilicum?" "He will live." "My boy?" "Yes."
"I am a father you no understand Boston tilicum father. I want you to teach him like a father not you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "Father teacher you, Boston tilicum." "Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin." "I die some day. You understand?" "Yes, I understand." "You understand, Boston tilicum, you understand. What I want my boy to become that I am for my boy.
The word "Potlatch," spoken by the Indian boy, had caused his brow to cloud and his face to turn dark. "We will all go into the house," said the master. "Umatilla, will you not honor us with a visit this morning?" "No me come this afternoon for the boy; me wait for him outside. Boston tilicum, let me speak to you a little. I am a father." "Yes, and a good father."
She say I have no right here; she have no right here; the land all belong to Umatilla; then to me; I no have her here. Look out for the October moon Potlatch dance pil-pil." "I will be a friend to you, Benjamin." "Yes, Boston tilicum, we will be friends." "And I will teach you how to be noble like a king. You felt good when I was kind to you?" "Yes, Boston tilicum." "And when the music played?"
There was a long silence, broken only by the scream of the eagles in the sky and the passing of flocks of wild geese. Then one of the Indians rose and said: "Umatilla has gone to his fathers. "Benjamin has gone to his fathers. We shall never see Young Eagle's plume again! "Boston tilicum, be our chief. We have come to school." Mr. Mann turned to Gretchen.
"Yes, Boston tilicum." "Then you must be good to her; that will make her feel good toward you. Do you see?" There came a painful look into the young Indian's face. "I good to her, make her good? She good to me make me good? She no good to me. She say I no right here. The land belong to Umatilla. She must go. You stay. Look out for the October moon. She wah-wah no more."
Mann saw at once the strange turn that the young Indian's mind had taken. He was puzzled again. "No, Benjamin; I will teach you what to do." "Teach me how to club her? You are good! Boston tilicum, we will be brothers you and I. She wah-wah, but she is no good." "That is C." "Aha! She heap wah-wah, but she no good."
He took the skin of the animal from Benjamin's shoulder, and held it up before the eyes of all. "Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?" he said. "It was you?" asked the teacher. "No not me, not me, no!" "The braves?" "No not the braves. No." The old chief paused, and then said: "Boston tilicum, it was Benjamin. Treat him well. He is good to me he mean well. He likes you he die for you.
"The stars are gone out!" he said. "I care for nothing more." The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after the convulsions, then consciousness would return. In one of these moments of consciousness he asked of Gretchen: "Where is Boston tilicum?" "He is not here he does not know that you are sick." "Run for him; tell him I can't go to the Missouri with him.
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