. The white Indian boy : the story of Uncle Nick among the Shoshones. when playing with theother boys. I beheve that she would have gone crazyif it had not been for him, her troubles over the loss offather and my brothers were so great. I do beheve thatthe Great Spirit sent the httle white boy to her. I think myself that if anything had happened to me, itwould have killed mother. She was very proud to haveme with her. She would say to Washakie, Yagaki is asmart boy. He asks me questions that I can hardlyanswer. One day he asked me why the Indians did nothaul and cut the wood for their women. H
. The white Indian boy : the story of Uncle Nick among the Shoshones. when playing with theother boys. I beheve that she would have gone crazyif it had not been for him, her troubles over the loss offather and my brothers were so great. I do beheve thatthe Great Spirit sent the httle white boy to her. I think myself that if anything had happened to me, itwould have killed mother. She was very proud to haveme with her. She would say to Washakie, Yagaki is asmart boy. He asks me questions that I can hardlyanswer. One day he asked me why the Indians did nothaul and cut the wood for their women. His father doesthat for his mother. He thinks that the Indians ought topack the meat, too, and take care of their own horses, orsend the boys to do it. If the women tanned the hidesand made the moccasias and clothes for the family anddid the cooking, it was their share of the work. I heard all this talk going on one night when theythought I was asleep. Washakie agreed with most ofwhat his mother said, but of course they couldnt changethe Indians way of doing bhe used to tell me her troubles. CHAPTER SEVEN MY INDIAN MOTHER My Indian mother was as good and kind to me as anyone could be, but she did not seem to reahze that therewas another loving mother miles and miles away whoseheart was sorrowing because of my absence. To her mindmust have come many times these words of the old song:Oh, where is my wandering boy tonight? My Indian mother would often ask me a good manyquestions about my white mother. She asked me if Idid not want to go home. I told her that I should like tosee my folks very much, but if I went home they wouldkeep me there, and I did not want to herd sheep. I toldher that I would rather play with white boys than withIndian boys, but that I liked my bow and arrows, andfather would not let me have these at home because Iwould be shooting at the cats and chickens all the like my pony too, and I could not take him home,I said, and I love you too. If I w
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectfrontie, bookyear1922
