The Drums of Change by Janette Oke

Like lightning smashing into a towering pine. Running Fawn felt the world whirling around, making her dizzy with flashing light and deafening sound. She could not move. Could not speak. Could not even swallow.
    She was dimly aware that there was movement before her. That someone stood before her desk, hand outstretched, but she could not respond. Could not even think.
    “I do believe our student is dumbstruck,” said a teasing voice that seemed to roar in her ears. A giggle was heard somewhere near her and began to spread throughout the room. Gradually she felt herself returning to reality.
    She managed to stumble from her desk and stretch out a limp hand to be clasped firmly by the teacher. Then she was allowed to sink back onto the support of the wooden bench as she fought to gather her wits about her and make some sense of the announcement.
    The boarding school. In Fort Calgary. She did not want to go to the boarding school. Let Silver Fox learn the ways of the white man if he wished to. She wanted no part of it. None whatever. No. No, she had no intention of going. She would speak to her father. He knew that she was needed at home. Her mother still was not strong. And another child was on the way. Her mother needed her. She wouldn’t go. She would not.
    She tried to clear her head. She looked up just in time to see the pair of long-tailed coats disappearing out the door. She hoped she had seen the last of them.
    She felt eyes upon her and turned slightly to discover Silver Fox looking at her. He gave her the slightest smile just before she dipped her head in confusion.

    The next morning, the two men with the black suits sat in a black buggy hitched to a pair of gray horses. Silver Fox occupied the high seat behind them, his eyes shining, his back straight. Running Fawn slowly mounted the steps into the buggy, her movements stiff and her heart heavy with fear and frustration.
    She sat as close to the far edge of the seat as she could, gripping firmly the small bundle that was all she would have of home. She longed to weep. Longed to cling desperately to her mother’s skirts. Longed to streak across the broad prairies until she found a hiding place.
    She did nothing. Just sat, tight-lipped and stiff. Shivering inside, and silent and cold on the outside. Someone called to her, but she did not so much as turn her head. Stoically she stared straight in front of her at the broad back of the man in the black coat.
    He lifted the buggy whip, spoke to the horses, and they began to move out of the camp. The big wheels turned round and round. The buggy bumped over prairie-dog holes. Dust began to lift in little clouds until she felt she would choke. But she did not turn her head. Did not look back. She would not look back all the long way to the unknown Calgary.

Chapter Eight
    Boarding School
    On the first night they stopped at the home of white settlers, and she was shown to a small lean-to room at the back of the house. A strange-looking frame on one side of the room held blankets, and Running Fawn looked at them with longing. She was extremely weary and ached for her buffalo robe bed. But there was no such place in sight. After the door had closed, Running Fawn furtively looked about, then reached to snatch the top blanket from the pile. Wrapping it securely about her, she lay down on the crude wooden floor and wept silently until she fell into a troubled sleep.
    The next morning after a rather strange breakfast, they were on the way again. That night they stopped at another small farmhouse. Running Fawn was given a blanket and, with many apologies, shown to a loft over the kitchen. The small storage area had been stacked with soft hay. It was much more comfortable than the bare boards of the night before.
    They rumbled on over the rutted prairie for the next day, stopping at a small settlement, where they were all taken into a large building with many rooms. Again there was a frame with blankets, and again Running Fawn took