“Where is my father?” he said.
“Your father is meeting with the other chiefs,” Wolf Woman told him.
Ely nodded. He had seen the new houses the Ogden Land Company had built for white people close to the reservation. The company was still trying to take all of the Seneca land. The Seneca leaders were meeting to make plans and write more letters to Albany and Washington.
His mother looked at him. Ely thought he knew what she was thinking. She knew what he was thinking. So he said it.
“I have come back to return to school,” he said. “I want to speak English and read and write as well as any white person. I want to help our people.”
Wolf Woman reached out her hand and placed it on top of his. Once her hand had been bigger than his. Now it looked small on top of Ely’s wide hand.
“Good,” she said.
Ely looked around.
“Your brothers and your sister?” she said.
Ely nodded.
“Levi has gone to town for supplies,” Wolf Woman said. “Solomon and Newt are off trying to hunt birds with their little bows.” She pointed with her lips toward the small maple woods behind their house. A little smile came to her face. “Can you guess where Nic and Caroline are?”
“In school?” he said.
His mother nodded.
Ely returned to the Tonawanda Baptist School the next day. Reverend Stone was delighted to see him.
“Ely, my son,” he said. “My best student! You will inspire the others.”
Somehow, school was not hard now. Ely did not stay in the dormitory. He got up very early, helped around the farm, and then walked to school. It was only three miles. He’d grown used to walking longer distances at Grand River.
Ely was the first to enter the classroom every morning. He read the few books there. When he finished reading them, he read them again.
One day Reverend Stone came into the little classroom while Ely was reading. Reverend Stone was carrying a stack of books.
“Eee-lee, my son,” Reverend Stone said. “You need more to read. I have brought these from my own small library.”
Ely no longer felt out of place in school. It helped that Nic and Caroline were also students. The three of them spoke English together at school and at home. At home they wrote letters to each other and read them aloud.
The other students now turned to Ely for help with spelling, math, and English. He was like a second teacher in the classroom.
Two months passed and he was asked to translate in church again. Ely stood before the congregation. He had no trouble translating English into Seneca.
After three months in the school, he was called to Reverend Stone’s house. There he found not only the reverend but also his mother and father waiting for him.
“Ely,” the reverend said, “I must tell you something.”
“Yes sir,” Ely said. Reverend Stone’s face was very serious. His parents looked just as serious.
“I have spoken with your mother and father. They agree with me. You must leave our school.”
“What have I done wrong?” Ely thought.
The look on Reverend Stone’s face changed. It turned into a grin. Ely had never seen the reverend look so happy. His parents began smiling, too.
“Ely, my best student,” the reverend said. He grasped Ely’s wide shoulders. “You have been accepted at Yates Academy! A fine school. You will learn so much more there. Are you not excited?”
Ely was not sure how he felt. A new school? But he’d just returned home. He’d be going to a strange place where he knew no one. He would probably be the only Indian there. Would they make fun of him as those British soldiers did?
Ely looked at Reverend Stone. He looked at his parents. They were all happy for him.
Ely forced himself to smile. “I am excited,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Yates Academy
Yates Academy first opened in 1841. Ely was only one year old then. It was not far from Tonawanda. Just twenty miles northeast of the reservation.
It was close, but it seemed like another world. It was not a wooden, one-room schoolhouse like the Tonawanda Baptist School. It was a fine brick building. Ely stood in front of it, looking up at the windows, a cloth bag in his right hand.
“Can I fit in here?” he thought.
Ely was dressed as a white student might dress. He wore dark pants, a white shirt with a coat over the top, and a cloth cap. New clothes bought with some of the funds provided by the Indian Civilization Fund that had been created by the government.
He bit his lip, walked up the stone steps, and entered the building.
The hallway was empty. All of the students were in the three classrooms.
Ely was no longer wearing soft moccasins. Instead he wore a new pair of well-polished shoes. Those shoes had hard soles that echoed as he stepped onto the wooden floor.
A door opened in front of him. A short man wearing glasses on the end of his nose stepped out. The man’s face was round and the look on his face was pleasant. The tie around his neck was loose. His thick brown hair was not well combed. One stray lock of hair hung down almost across his right eye. The man pushed back his glasses with one finger and combed the lock of hair back with his palm.
“Ah-hah,” the man said. “Methought I heard the sound of footfalls. Just as I reached the passage about the ghost of Hamlet’s father walking the battlements.” He smiled and opened his arms. “And here you are. No ghost at all, but flesh and blood.”
Ely almost laughed. It was not just what the man said, but the way he said it. He did not understand all of the words. But it seemed that this man was not like the British soldiers he’d met on his way home from Grand River. Everything about him seemed friendly.
Ely took off his cap. “Sir,” he said, “I am Ely S. Parker.”
The man chuckled. “I would have bet upon that,” he said. He held up an index finger. “The first of your race to join us. Nor will you be the last, young Master Parker. I shall make sure of that.”
He touched his chest. “Benjamin Wilcox,” he said. “Principal of this school and one-third of its faculty. On behalf of Yates Academy, allow me to say you are most welcome.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ely said.
“I think you will like it here,” Principal Wilcox said. “Our staff may be small, but we are all college graduates. We have taught in other schools before this, but none with such promise. We have 114 young ladies and 118 young gentlemen as students.” He smiled broadly at Ely. “It’s 119 now, of course.”
Yates Academy, Principal Wilcox explained, was unusual. Yates was a modern school where young men and young women attended classes together. It was not like the Tonawanda Baptist School, where Bible study was as important as reading, writing, and arithmetic. Yates was nonsectarian. “Nonsectarian” meant it was not run by any church.
“But we do believe in the Golden Rule here,” Principal Wilcox said. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Follow that rule and all will go well for you here, Master Parker.”
He pushed his glasses back on his nose with his finger and brushed his hair with his hand. “Now come with me.”
They went into the classroom. What Ely saw made him feel dizzy. At the Baptist school there had been students of all ages. Some had been very young. Some had been older than Ely. This room was filled with students of his own age.
However, all of those students were white. All of them were looking at him. Some were whispering to each other.
“It is him.”
“It’s the Indian.”
“Is he a savage?”
“Can he speak English?”
Ely looked around the classroom. All of the young men sat to the right. Twenty of them. All of the young women sat to the left. Nineteen young women.
Their wooden desks were so new that Ely could smell the pinewood and varnish. There were books on every desk, more books than Ely had ever seen before.
There was a large desk at the front of the room with a blackboard behind it. All of the words written in white chalk on that blackboard were strange.
Shakespeare. Sonnet. Bard. Hamlet. Were those words in English? Ely felt so confused that he thought about turning around, running out of the school, and going home.
Ely bit his lip. No, I will not run away.
Principal Wilcox rapped twice on the desk. “Class!” he said. His voice was so loud and clear that Ely almost jumped. Principal Wilcox was small, but his voice was like thunder.
The whispering stopped. Everyone looked at the principal.
Wilcox nodded. “Young ladies and young gentlemen, lend me your ears.”
Some of the students smiled when he said that.
Principal Wilcox turned toward Ely. He held a hand in front of his mouth and spoke softly so that only Ely could hear his words.
“A Shakespearean figure of speech,” he whispered. “It means to listen well. I am not asking them to cut off their ears and hand them to me.”
He winked at Ely. Then he turned back to the class, pushed his glasses back up on his nose, and lifted his chin. He spread out his arms.
“I am honored,” he said, “to introduce your new classmate. He comes from a family of chiefs. His noble family includes the great Red Jacket and Cornplanter. One day he too may join their ranks. Young ladies, young gentlemen, allow me to present to you Master Ely S. Parker.”
Principal Wilcox raised his hand and gestured toward Ely. “Now.”
“Welcome, Master Parker,” the entire class said as one.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Young Moses
Ely’s first day of classes was confusing. Many of the students seemed friendly. But others looked at him strangely, covered their mouths, and whispered to each other as he walked past.
He was so different from everyone else at Yates. He had cut his hair short again before coming to Yates so that he might fit in better. But no one else had hair as thick and black and straight as his. And no one else had brown skin.
“Can I ever fit in here?” Ely thought. He pushed that thought aside. I will fit in. I will!
He was standing in front of the dormitory where he would be staying. He held the bag with his spare clothing against his chest. He looked up the steps and bit his lip.
“Parker,” someone said from behind him.
Ely turned. A short young man with big ears, a small nose, and thin blond hair was standing there.
“Harry,” the young man said. His high voice sounded friendly.
“Harry,” the young man said again. “Though I am not at all hairy, as you can see.” He laughed at his own joke. “Harry Flagler at your service. But you may just call me Flagler. That’s how we do it here at Yates. Last names first, eh? Yes, yes, that is how we do it!” He laughed again. Then he reached up to pat Ely on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, old chap. No, no. You will soon get used to this place.”
Ely just stood there. Harry—or Flagler—had spoken those words so fast that he almost sounded like a chipmunk.
Flagler reached out and took Ely’s bag. “Come along, Parker. Come along now. Time to show you to your room.”
Harry Flagler spun around and ran up the steps.
Ely followed. He felt like a bear chasing a squirrel. But he also had a smile on his face.
“Perhaps,” he said to himself, “I have found a friend.”
As the days passed, Ely learned that the students at Yates did not just learn reading and writing. They studied the great writers of England. They read books by John Milton, William Shakespeare, and many others. They also talked about those books. Ely liked those discussions. He listened at first and said little. But when he did say anything, he spoke clearly and well. His new friend Harry was the first to take note of that.
“Parker,” Harry said after class. “Your voice may be the finest one at Yates. When you speak, everyone listens. Indeed they do. And you make every word count. Not a wasted word. Not a wasted phrase. Yes, yes, indeed. That is certainly so. You might have a career in the law ahead of you.”
Harry was in all of Ely’s classes. So was another young man named Reuben Warren. Reuben was very different from Harry. While Harry was very short and round, Reuben was tall and thin. Harry’s face was shaped like the moon. Reuben’s face was long and narrow. Harry talked fast and talked all the time. Reuben’s voice was deep and as slow as molasses.
In other ways, those two young men were alike. They both dressed well and were not at Yates on scholarship like Ely. Reuben came from a very well-off family. So did Harry. Their lives were very different from Ely’s, yet both young men seemed happy to have Ely as a friend.
Yates students had to write daily essays. At first, that was difficult for Ely. However, he developed a method. His method was this. Each day he would learn ten new words, record them in a notebook, and practice writing them. He also worked to improve his penmanship. “Penmanship” meant being able to write words clearly. He formed each letter with care, filling page after page.
He was practicing his penmanship at his desk when he felt someone looking over his shoulder. It was Reuben. Reuben touched his fingers to his forehead.
Ely did the same. It was a gesture that he and Reuben and Harry made when they saw each other. It was a sign of their friendship.
“Parker, may I?” Reuben held out his hand.
Ely handed him the page. Reuben bent over it like a heron looking for a fish. He moved his eyes slowly from top to bottom, then handed the page back.
“Perfect penmanship,” he said. “Best I’ve seen.” Then he left the room.
The students at Yates also did not do simple math of the sort Ely had learned at the Baptist school. They studied algebra and geometry. Ely was surprised at how easily he learned both subjects.
“You have a fine mind for mathematics,” Principal Wilcox said to him. “Perhaps you may become an engineer.”
Ely felt himself changing. English was now easy for him. Perhaps it was because everyone around him spoke English. He would never forget his Native language. He would always remember Seneca. However, English was now a part of him. He even began to dream in English.
Ely also learned other languages—Greek and Latin. Those languages were spoken long ago in Europe. Many great books were written in those old languages. Ely liked the sound of those languages and would read them aloud to feel the words on his tongue.
After his first month at Yates Academy, Ely was called to the office of the principal.
Principal Wilcox was sitting behind his desk.
“Have a seat, Master Parker.”
Ely sat with his back straight and his hands on his knees. He looked Principal Wilcox in the eye.
“I called you here because I have a question for you,” Wilcox said.
“Yes, sir,” Ely replied.
“How do you like life at our academy?”
“I like it very well,” Ely said.
Wilcox smiled. “Excellent. I have heard nothing but fine things about you. It seems you have taken to Yates as a fish takes to water.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ely said. He bit his lip and took a breath. “May I ask you a question?”
Principal Wilcox raised one eyebrow. “Of course, of course, Master Parker. And what might that question be?”
“The other students pay for their tuition. They pay for their room and board. Why am I given all of this for free?”
Principal Wilcox leaned back in his chair. He pushed his glasses back on his nose. Then he leaned forward and put his hands together.
“You and your people have been treated badly by white men, Master Parker,” the principal said. “Your land has been taken, your ancient ways destroyed. Some say there is no hope for the Indian. Some even wish for your people to vanish from the earth. And others covet what little land is left to you. Am I correct about this?”
Ely stared at Principal Wilcox. He had never heard a white man speak that way before.
/> “Yes,” Ely said. “That is all true.”
Wilcox pressed his fingertips together. “Indeed. But not all white men are like that. Many see the Indian as a brother. An ignorant and weaker brother, to be sure, but one who is still our relative. They wish to help him. But his old ways are no longer good. He must give up those wild ways. He must learn the ways of civilization. Then he and his people may be lifted up to walk among us as equals. That is how those of us who are true Christians feel. That is why you were admitted to Yates. That is why you have also received financial support from the Indian Civilization Fund.
“You have great promise, Ely. Through the new idea of education, you may become as good as any white man. You may be as Moses in the Bible. You may be the first of your people to lead them from the wilderness of the old Indian ways to the Promised Land of modern civilization.”
Ely nodded. Principal Wilcox was sincere. But gaining a white education to help his people was not a new idea. “Learn the ways of the white men,” Red Jacket had said. “Do this to help your people.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ely said. “I shall do my best.”
Principal Wilcox stood up and brushed his hand back through his hair. He smiled broadly. “I know you shall,” he said. “I know you shall, young Moses.”
Ely walked out into the hall. He thought about what Principal Wilcox had told him. It was good that some white men wished to help the Indian. But Ely did not think that he and his people were ignorant and weak. Nor did he wish to become as good as any white man. He believed he was already as good as any white man. He would learn white ways. But in his heart he would remain a Seneca.
“And I shall not be Moses,” Ely said to himself.
Moses died before he reached the Promised Land.
CHAPTER TWENTY
New Friends
and Pretty Girls
Everyone at Yates Academy noticed Ely. It was hard not to. It was not just because he was an Indian. He stood out because he was tall and broad-shouldered and walked with his back straight and his chin held high.
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