"Let her try it."

I hoped that, as usual, my aunt was pleading on my side. My brother
Dawée came for mother's decision. I dropped my play, and crept close to
my aunt.

"Yes, Dawée, my daughter, though she does not understand what it all
means, is anxious to go. She will need an education when she is grown,
for then there will be fewer real Dakotas, and many more palefaces. This
tearing her away, so young, from her mother is necessary, if I would
have her an educated woman. The palefaces, who owe us a large debt for
stolen lands, have begun to pay a tardy justice in offering some
education to our children. But I know my daughter must suffer keenly in
this experiment. For her sake, I dread to tell you my reply to the
missionaries. Go, tell them that they may take my little daughter, and
that the Great Spirit shall not fail to reward them according to their
hearts."

Wrapped in my heavy blanket, I walked with my mother to the carriage
that was soon to take us to the iron horse. I was happy. I met my
playmates, who were also wearing their best thick blankets. We showed
one another our new beaded moccasins, and the width of the belts that
girdled our new dresses. Soon we were being drawn rapidly away by the
white man's horses. When I saw the lonely figure of my mother vanish in
the distance, a sense of regret settled heavily upon me. I felt
suddenly weak, as if I might fall limp to the ground. I was in the hands
of strangers whom my mother did not fully trust. I no longer felt free
to be myself, or to voice my own feelings. The tears trickled down my
cheeks, and I buried my face in the folds of my blanket. Now the first
step, parting me from my mother, was taken, and all my belated tears