Together they walked out of the schoolhouse and to a rustic log bench by the campfire where Martha Red Wing had been doing most of the group’s cooking.
“You do your work well, Red Bird.” He laughed softly. “I watched at recess one day. At times it was difficult to tell who was the teacher and who was a student.” He folded his arms and leaned back to inspect Carrie. “I heard the children talking in camp one day. They love you.”
Carrie laughed back at him. “The first day of school, when I looked up at a few of those boys I was terrified. But they all seem to want to learn so much. It’s been very easy to love them.” Carrie sighed. “I’m going to miss them when I leave.”
Soaring Eagle frowned. “Is it so soon?”
“Next week. James has to go back for supplies for the winter. I’ll ride along.”
“I thought that—” Soaring Eagle changed in midsentence. “It seemed that you were happy working here.”
Carrie sighed. “Yes, I am happy here. But Charity and I have prayed about it, and I really think that God wants me to go back to the university for more schooling, more practical teaching. I’m still so inexperienced. I’ll finish at the university. Then—” She paused. “Well, then I shall have to pray for God’s guidance once again.”
“There was a time when you spoke only of returning to Santee.”
“There was a time when I was a very headstrong and foolish little girl who knew very little about living in God’s will.”
“The little girl is gone.”
Carrie looked at him sharply. “Yes. I think so. And good riddance.”
“When did this happen, Red Bird?”
“At the Dakota Missions Conference.”
Soaring Eagle nodded. “That was a good time. Good fellowship. Good meetings.”
Carrie laughed. “I didn’t pay much attention to the meetings.”
At his look of surprise, Carrie ducked her head. She formulated her next words carefully. “Soaring Eagle, I know you have had the experience of having the dearest things in your life ripped away from you, and then had them replaced with something far greater.” Carrie lowered her voice. “That happened to me at the missions conference.” She looked back at him soberly. “It was very, very painful. But necessary.”
“And whatever that was, that means that our friendship has changed.”
Carrie laughed. “Don’t you think it was about time for that to happen? You must have wearied long before that of the foolish little redhead who fluttered around you constantly.” Carrie’s cheeks reddened.
“I never wearied of it,” Soaring Eagle said quietly.
“Well, Miss Woodward certainly must have.”
At the mention of Julia Woodward, Soaring Eagle frowned. “Miss Woodward?”
“I know you haven’t made an announcement yet, Soaring Eagle, but you said yourself that we are friends.” Carrie cleared her throat. “I wish you well, Soaring Eagle. I hope you are very happy.”
Soaring Eagle was truly amazed. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Miss Julia Woodward. It was apparent at the missions conference that you two think highly of one another. I just assumed—”
“So that is what you have been thinking. That is what has changed between us.” Soaring Eagle shook his head and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. With one hand he picked up a stick and began to scribble in the dirt. After a moment he tossed the stick aside and said, “Miss Julia Woodward returned to Boston with the Visiting Committee where I am certain she will continue to do very good work on behalf of the Indian. But Red Bird, think about it, Miss Julia Woodward in a cabin on the prairie .” Soaring Eagle chuckled. “No, Red Bird, I am not to marry Miss Julia Woodward.” He stood up abruptly.
Martha Red Wing came out of her cabin, wrestling a huge iron pot towards the campfire. Soaring Eagle hurried to help her while Carrie went inside the cabin and brought out a crock full of green beans. She sat on the bench and began to snap beans as Soaring Eagle set to work lighting a fire.
“This thing that you were forced to give up at the missions conference, Red Bird.”
“Please, Soaring Eagle, don’t embarrass me by talking about it.”
Smoke began to curl from the chips of wood and Soaring Eagle moved quickly to encourage the flames. “Why should you be embarrassed by caring for someone? It was your caring for me that brought me to Christ, Red Bird.”
“And resulted in my behaving like a fool.”
“And you now believe that the dream to marry a much older man who wants to live among the wild Sioux is a foolish dream?”
“I realize that creating my own future without consulting God is folly. It has nothing to do with the age of the man or the life God has given him.”
Soaring Eagle backed away from the fire and sat down next to Carrie. “Red Bird,” he began, then stopped. “Let me tell you a story. One day I was in the village and Walking Thunder rode by. He had wrapped himself in plaited sweet grass and painted his face in a most amazing way. When I called to him, he said that he was on his way to school. I thought it an odd way for a boy to dress for school, and when I asked him if there was to be a celebration, he did not want to say anything. But then his friend spoke up and said that Walking Thunder had decided to woo the teacher. Walking Thunder was very angry when this was said, but then he looked at me and admitted that it was true. He said that he had decided that the best way to make a way in the new world was to take a white wife, and he had decided that the teacher would be a suitable candidate.”
Carrie had stopped snapping beans and was listening with honest amazement at the story. When Soaring Eagle paused, she spoke up. “I never, I never encouraged. What should I do?”
“You need do nothing, Red Bird. His attentions have turned to another girl in the village.”
“Then why are you telling me this story?”
“Walking Thunder is a fine young man. He will make a good husband some day. He has a kind heart. But when he told me he was coming to court the teacher with the hair like the setting sun—” Soaring Eagle paused before continuing. “I didn’t like it.”
Carrie finished snapping beans before saying quietly, “And what does that mean, Soaring Eagle?”
“It means, Red Bird, that I saw you through the eyes of a young man who didn’t know anything about ‘little Carrie Brown.’ He saw you as a young woman.” He cleared his throat. “And when I thought of you in that way, then I really didn’t like the idea of someone else courting you.”
Carrie pondered the comment before saying, “Everett Higgenbottom never bothered you.”
Soaring Eagle snorted. “Everett Higgenbottom is not for you, Red Bird.”
“Yes,” Carrie said quietly. “I know that. I’m going to tell him that once and for all when I get back to Lincoln.” Carrie stood up, the crock full of prepared beans in her arms. “If I don’t see you again before I leave, Soaring Eagle, please know that I’ll be praying for you and the work here. You pray for me, too, won’t you? That I’ll have the strength to follow God wherever He leads me.” She headed for the cabin, but he called her name.
“Red Bird.”
When Carrie turned around, she saw Soaring Eagle standing in the middle of the path that led to his camp. He signed “friend.” She returned the sign and hurried inside.
Chapter 23
The words of a wise man’s mouth are gracious; but the lips of a fool will swallow up himself.
Ecclesiastes 10:12
S o, Everett, you’ve been right—about everything. You were right when you said that I didn’t have any understanding at all of Soaring Eagle. I saw him as some hero I had created in my mind. When I saw him as a man, I still loved and respected him. But then came the second realization, that I didn’t have a realistic view of missionary work.” Carrie paused to stir her coffee before continuing. “But all that was masking the real problem, Everett. I didn’t have a right relationship with God. I knew all the right answers to every question, but I hadn
’t really given my life to God.”
Carrie had asked Everett to come to dinner the first evening after her return from the Cheyenne River. She had spent the entire meal asking Everett about school, telling him about her experiences, and generally avoiding the most important things she had to say. They had both finished dessert and were drinking coffee before Carrie had the courage to launch the thing she really wanted to talk about.
“And all that has changed?” Everett wanted to know.
Carrie traced the top of her coffee mug with one finger as she thought about her next words. “It has. Oh, I don’t mean I have the ‘meaning of life’ figured out, Everett. But I do know one thing. I had to give up my own plans and be willing to do what God wanted. Right now I feel certain He wants me finishing school. After that, I don’t know. I did love teaching the Indian children. I won’t pretend I didn’t. I still think I’d like to serve somewhere in the Dakota Mission. But that’s in the future, not now. For now, I’m content to be a student.”
“What about Soaring Eagle?”
“I think he’ll stay on the Cheyenne River for some time to come. The work suits him. He’s a gifted evangelist, and the Lord is using him.” Carrie looked up at Everett. “Before I left, we had a good talk about my foolishness and his forgiving it. I think we can still be friends. I’d like it to be more, but I don’t know if it’s ever going to be. He definitely thinks he’s too old for me. He also has a reluctance to ask a woman to share his life because he’s chosen a life that will undoubtedly mean poverty and hardship. I’m content to leave all that with God for now. But I didn’t ask you here to talk about Soaring Eagle, Everett.”
“Good. Because we have to talk about you and me.” Everett leaned forward across the table. “I know that I’ve been something of a nuisance, chasing you halfway across the country.”
“You have not been a nuisance, Everett. Actually, you’ve been a great friend, even when I’ve treated you poorly. But, Everett—”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been a friend, and that’s all.” Everett cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad you asked me to dinner, because I have something to say about that.” After a brief pause, Everett looked up and grinned. “I proposed to Myrtle Greer while you were gone. We’re getting married as soon as I graduate.”
Carrie was stunned. “Myrtle Greer!”
Everett just sat grinning and nodding, giving Carrie time to absorb the news before he said, “She’s a terrific girl, Carrie. I hope you can be happy for us. I know you never really cared about me that way. So I figured this wouldn’t be too much of a shock for you, but I wanted to tell you myself before anyone else did.”
Carrie sat back in her chair and contemplated the prospect of Everett and Myrtle Higgenbottom. After the shock subsided, she held out her hand to Everett. “Everett, I couldn’t be happier for you. Myrtle is a terrific girl, and she deserves a better life than she has had to date. I hope you’ll be very happy.”
“Thanks, Carrie. I knew you’d feel that way.”
“I’ll miss you, Everett. You always gave me very good advice.”
“Which you rarely took, Miss Brown.”
“Well, I’m older and wiser now. I have taken all of your advice from the past few years all in one giant dose. I believe I am healed of the illness, Dr. Higgenbottom. Selfishness and strongheadedness. Is that a word? And lots of other things. I’m trying hard to overcome them all.”
Everett stood up to go. “You’ve started well, Carrie. I wish you the very best. And now, I have to excuse myself. I’m taking Myrtle to the Opera House this evening to celebrate our engagement. Myrtle will be relieved to hear that you’re happy for us.”
Carrie didn’t hesitate to reply. “Indeed I am. Please tell Myrtle that for me. I only reserve the right to one thing, Everett. When you’re a famous lawyer, I get to tell everyone that you honed your debate skills with me!”
Throughout the fall and winter sessions at the university Carrie Brown threw herself wholeheartedly into her study and her work. She recited at 9 o’clock every morning in mathematics, at 10 o’clock in history, and at 11 in languages. No afternoon classes were scheduled so that she could work at the Hathaway House. Evenings and Saturdays were reserved for preparation. Carrie quickly learned that for every hour of recitation she had to spend two hours preparing. She was expected to virtually memorize her professors’ lectures and regurgitate the information perfectly.
Somewhere in her store of boundless youth, Carrie found the energy to join the Palladian Society, which had been founded “to help build up and perfect the moral and intellectual capacities, and in like manner the social qualities” of university students. The society’s Friday evening meetings involved orations, recitations of original poetry, and debates. Carrie especially enjoyed participating in the latter. She developed positions on everything from “Resolved, That the University Should Forbid the Formation of Secret Fraternities” to “Women’s Suffrage—a Simple Matter of Justice.” Debating helped her to establish her own opinions and to found them on something besides her emotions.
The engagement of Everett Higgenbottom and Myrtle Greer left Carrie without a regular escort to evening lectures. She was rescued by “the slate,” a small book bearing the names of the female members of the Society. The book was circulated throughout the week by an official “slate-bearer” until some gentleman had written his name by every young woman’s name on the slate, thereby promising the necessary escort for every female who wished to attend the Friday meetings.
Early in January, Carrie was escorted to a debate by Charles E. Field, who was to oppose Carrie in the evening’s debate: “The Indian Question—Resolved, That the Indian Must Be Christianized and Civilized.” Charles E. Field gave the negative argument against the Christianizing and civilizing of the Indian, concluding with the comment that the Indian was, by nature, uncivilized and savage and was best left in his natural and godless state, which would eventually lead to the demise of the Indian nation and, therefore, a bloodless and natural end to the Indian Problem.
When it came time for her to present her position, Carrie rose, so angry she could scarcely speak. She went on to present her affirmative argument, ending by saying, “It is obvious to this debater that her opponent would be hard pressed to distinguish between a Sioux Indian and a snapping turtle.” The audience dissolved into nervous laughter whereupon the master of ceremonies directed Miss Mollie Runyan to quickly rise and present the musical portion of the program. Mr. Field found no trace of Carrie when the evening concluded and he was to have escorted her home. Miss Brown had marched back to the Hathaway House in record time, awakening her Aunt Augusta with a resounding slam of their apartment door.
At Augusta Hathaway’s invitation, Jim and LisBeth Callaway drove in one spring Friday to attend the “Fifth Annual Exhibition by the Palladian Literary Society.” The exhibition had been planned as an official ending for the school year and Carrie was to be involved in a debate on women’s suffrage. When the program concluded, Carrie accompanied the Callaways and Augusta back to the hotel where the political discussion continued and eventually turned to the problems faced by Nebraska farmers.
Jim shook his head. “Deflation just has to be stopped, Augusta. I don’t know what it’ll take, but when we’re paying our bills with dollars worth a lot more than the dollars we borrowed to buy our land, it’s hard to see our way out of the credit crunch. Thank God LisBeth and I don’t owe the bank. But plenty of our neighbors do. Ben Carter told me that if this year’s wheat crop isn’t better than last, he’s done for.”
Augusta interrupted him. “I know Ben Carter. He stuck it out through the grasshopper plague. Nebraska needs to keep men like that.”
“Well, Ben Carter has ten boys to provide for, and the strain is beginning to show. The district is so broke they’re losing their school teacher after this term. The last time Ben and I came into Lincoln to deliver hogs he made it for Bassett’s Hall and downed half his money in liquid form before I could
convince him to head for home with me.”
Augusta shook her head. “I hate to see that. I’ll drive out tomorrow and see Mrs. Carter. Maybe I can be of some help, somehow. What can we do to help the farmer, Jim? J.W. Callaway is the nearest thing to a grandchild I’ve got, and I want to do whatever I can to assure his future. He is going to be a farmer, isn’t he?”
Jim grinned. “I’m feeding him an ounce of Nebraska earth a day just to make certain he gets it in his blood!”
“What about a debate or a lecture at the Red Ribbon Club?” Carrie offered. “Why not bring the problems of agriculture before the public? I know there would be interest. The proposal for an agricultural college at the university has been a topic of late. The students at the university think the idea is ridiculous. So many of them left the farm to get an education, and I don’t hear anyone wanting to go back. A debate could remind people that farming is an honorable way to live and that some people choose it because they love it, not because they can’t do anything else. It could also remind them that Nebraska farmers are an important part of this nation’s economy.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Carrie. I’ll propose it.” Augusta turned to Jim and LisBeth. “Will you two come?”
Jim nodded immediately. “We do need an agricultural college. Farmers need help. Most of the ones I know weren’t born here. They all came from back east where there are plenty of rivers and trees and springs and practically no grass. Now we’re battling prairie, little water, no timber, and grass so thick you can build houses from it. We can feed the world someday, but not without help: help from the banks to control deflation, help from the railroad to get our products to market at a fair price. And we need an agricultural college to research and teach the best ways to farm this land.”
“You talk like that, Jim Callaway, and we’ll get something started. Bring Ben Carter and a few more of the homesteaders near you.” Augusta turned to LisBeth. “And you be sure that Ben Carter’s wife comes with him. I’ll plan a reception for farm women after the meeting. We need to put faces onto the discussion topic. Let a few influential people see the young men and women who are struggling to build this state.”
Red Bird (Prairie Winds Book 2) Page 18