Read Online The Drums of Change by Janette Oke - Free Book Online

solid rock at her back. It had always been there—and forever would be. Surely that made one breathe a little easier. Just knowing that some things did not change.

    It had been a difficult time for the people, the young missionary wrote from the blankets where he lay. He had not been well, had in fact been sure at one point that he would not live to complete the arduous return to the hill country, but God had spared him. He paused, pen in hand, as he lay propped up on his bed of buffalo robes. He felt that he must get some kind of report back to the Mission Society—but what could he say? How could he possibly make them understand his situation—the situation of his people?
    So he wrote simply, “It has been a difficult time for the people.”
    There was no use trying to describe the frustration, the pain, the death. There were no words to make them feel a part of, or understand, the suffering. Better to just leave the details unspecified.
    The buffalo herds had been depleted, he went on to explain.
    This will mean hardship for the entire Blackfoot Nation. Some small bands have straggled onto the Reserve set aside for them, but they are proud, strong people. Most of them wish to make their own way. Chief Calls Through The Night is one of those. He is determined to keep his people for as long as he is able.
    They have already suffered the loss of half of the small band. Others are weak, and should any type of sickness strike the camp, many more will die.
    I have as yet to make a convert. Chief Calls Through The Night has seemed interested in the Gospel and has so many times seemed close to accepting. But he holds back. Most of the band would not make a step of faith until the chief does. It is their way. Some seem to be ready, but they refuse to break from old ways.
    I trust now that we are back in our own camp that I will be able to start classes with the children. I pray that this might be the answer to our prayers.
    Yours in Him, whom I serve,
Martin D. Forbes,
Minister of the Gospel
    P.S. The band has given me a new name, and one that I prefer. I am now known in the Blackfoot tongue as Man With The Book.

    Running Fawn was surprised when the chief announced that Man With The Book would begin classes, and she was chosen as one of the children to attend. The school would be held in a special tent erected for that very purpose. Though she secretly admitted that she did have some curiosity, she was not flattered by the invitation. In the days preceding the actual start of the school, she busied herself with tasks close by her mother’s fire. There was an uncertainty—a gnawing fear about learning from the white man.
    The chief seemed pleased with the arrangement. “Our world changes,” he had told the gathering. “We must change. The White man is here to stay. We must learn his ways.” He nodded toward the young missionary, still weak and thin from his illness, but smiling softly nonetheless. “Man With The Book teach. He teach the son of my old age,” the chief concluded, drawing his robes tightly around frail shoulders and nodding toward Silver Fox, who sat quietly, legs crossed.
    There were a total of six children selected for the school. Running Fawn knew them all, though she and the other girl in the group had spent little time with the four boys. Laughing Loon was a bit older than Running Fawn and was much more outgoing. In Running Fawn’s mind, the young Silver Fox was almost a man. She wondered why the young brave should waste his time with lessons and books. The other three boys were younger than he was.
    In spite of her reluctance to learn from the white man, Running Fawn soon found herself caught up in the classes. Her inquisitive mind reached eagerly for new knowledge. But it was Silver Fox who proved to be the natural student. Running Fawn noticed that the missionary teacher spent extra time with the young brave.
    Before too many weeks had passed, one of the boys dropped out. He simply had no