Chapter 2
Against his better judgment Mingo let himself be persuaded to assume the role of schoolmaster on Monday. Daniel and Francis worked out a schedule for him to follow, filling every minute with something so that the children would all be occupied for the entire day. There would be four classes of reading and recitation, four spelling classes, four classes of mathematics, a geography class, a Latin class, a class in Greek and Roman history, a drawing class and a music class. The students would arrive at 8:00, break for lunch at 12:00, and return for afternoon lessons from 1:00 until 3:00.
Mr. Clover assured Mingo that if he survived the first hour, he would survive the entire day. The Cherokee remained skeptical, but was secretly glad to be given the opportunity. He had always been a natural teacher, and wondered at idle moments if he could actually control a classroom. And now he was being given a chance to experiment.
He rose early and pulled on the clothing that he had worn when he traveled to Logan's Fort to check on the situation involving Craw Greene. He tied his long, thick hair back with one of the thongs that usually bound his braids. When he sat down at the Boone breakfast table Israel couldn't take his eyes off of the spectacle. Blunt as always, Israel spoke his mind.
"Mingo, what are you doin'? You ain't goin' to go back to Logan's Fort, are ya? I thought you'd stay here at least a couple a days and take me fishin'." The disappointment was plain in the little boy's voice.
Mingo gave the boy a loving look and replied. "Israel, I am experimenting today. I am attempting to answer a question that I have had about myself for a long time. And you are going to help me."
"I am? How?" The little boy's blue eyes sparkled at the thought of helping Mingo do anything. The bond between the man and boy was very strong, and Israel counted the time with Mingo as some of the happiest that he had ever spent.
"You are going to help me be a teacher today. I will be taking Mr. Clover's place since he cannot speak."
Israel's face fell and his entire body slumped. "You mean you are goin' to go to school? On purpose?"
"Yes, Israel. I am going to school. On purpose." Mingo smiled tenderly at the glum little boy. "And I hope that you will look back on this day with fond memories. "
"And I hope that I do too," he silently whispered to himself.
Arriving at the school house nearly an hour before the children, Mingo surveyed his new kingdom. It was a rough cabin twelve feet by ten feet near Cincinnatus' tavern. The blackboard was small, only about three by four feet and placed so that Mr. Clover could easily reach it. This meant that it was far too short for Mingo. He saw that he would have to bend to make much use of it. Well, one problem wasn't too much to overcome.
He opened the two windows for ventilation and light. The benches were neatly placed in front of the blackboard. There were four of them, about eight feet long. The front bench was very short, indicating that the smallest students sat there. Mr. Clover had given him a class list and in his mind Mingo sat the children around the room. There was a water bucket in the back. Mingo took it to the well and filled it. One of the settlers, Mrs. Nelson, happened to see him as she came out of her cabin. A little nearsighted, she wasn't sure who the tall man was who entered the schoolhouse several feet away, but she knew that it was not Francis Clover. Intrigued, she stepped to the cabin next door and began to question the lady of the house. Soon the buzz began to spread.
Inside the school room, Mingo continued his preparations. Mr. Clover had given him copies of all the textbooks that he would need, and he had spent hours the previous night pouring over the volumes to ready himself for the scholars. The Latin, geography, history, reading and spelling were no problem for him. Mathematics was. He never did like to solve math problems. Though possessing a very agile mind, Mingo thrived on language. How to figure angles or solve equations didn't interest him in the least. Fortunately, the math classes were after lunch so he felt that he could slight them a bit if need be.
He moved to sit down and review his class schedule. A new problem presented itself. The chair was suited to someone of Mr. Clover's size, and Mingo did not fit easily. The chair was far too short for his long legs. When he sat behind the desk, which was also short, he could not fit his knees under the desk. Well, two problems were not too many to deal with. He just would not sit behind the desk to hear recitations. He would lean his tall frame against the desk.
He stood beside the desk, leaned far over, and studied the texts that he would need to begin the day. Spelling came first, and he was a natural speller. So feeling somewhat at ease, he was not too upset when the first pupils arrived nearly 15 minutes early.
August, Emil, Hans and Oscar Himmel lived nearly two miles beyond the fort. Their industrious parents did not believe in too much education so the boys had spotty attendance and were therefore far behind their peers. Each boy was large for his age and this presented a problem when they were called upon to recite with their class. They were naturally embarrassed to be placed with smaller, younger children and as a result their behavior suffered. Of all the children that Mingo would face, these four were the most cause for concern. And here they were, early.
The boys looked around the room, searching for Mr. Clover. Obviously at a loss and thinking the change had occurred while they were absent, the boys looked at each other and shrugged. Mingo walked calmly toward them. August, the eldest, looked up and spoke for his siblings.
"Where's Mr. Clover? Ain't he goin' to be teachin' us no more?"
Mingo unconsciously corrected the boy's language. " 'Isn't he going to teach us', August. Mr. Clover will be teaching you tomorrow. I am here today because he has temporarily lost his voice."
The four boys exchanged sly looks. August beckoned his brothers outside. Mingo declined to follow them, creating the third problem for the day, though he did not know it at the time.
Ten minutes later the entire enrollment was inside the little classroom. There were fourteen boys and six girls. Their ages ranged from two five year old boys to two fifteen year old children, Jemima Boone and Jason Anderson. The front bench was occupied by Pauley McCarthy and Chuckie Custer. Behind them sat Israel Boone, Christopher Custer, Pip Smallwood, Oscar Himmel and his brother Hans. On the third bench sat Molly and Dolly McCarthy, Callie Custer, Thaddeus and Abraham Smallwood, and Emil Himmel. On the back bench were Jemima Boone, Catherine Custer, Jason Anderson, Josiah and Nathaniel Smallwood, and August Himmel.
Twenty sets of eyes were riveted on the tall Cherokee standing before them. A man of great courage and daring, he was finding himself unexpectedly fainthearted. The complete silence in the room was unsettling and the fixed gaze of twenty children unnerved him more than the fierce gaze of a black bear. He nervously cleared his throat and began.
"Good morning, children."
"Good morning," they echoed. Silence filled the room once again.
"Mr. Clover has lost his voice, and I will be your teacher today," Mingo stammered.
Again silence reigned in the small room. The eyes continued to stare at him. He rubbed his hands down the sides of his legs in his typical nervous gesture.
"Yes, well, let's begin, shall we?" Mingo's voice was pitched higher than normal, and Israel frowned. He glanced sideways at his friend Christopher, who glanced back and shrugged. Mingo was known to the entire room of children, but only Israel and Jemima had ever been this close to him. Anything new was welcome to the frontier children, and each fertile mind was now occupied in thoughts most unscholarly.
Mingo checked his schedule from Mr. Clover and announced to the class, "First spelling class, come forward please."
The other children sat and watched as Chuckie and Pauley remained seated exactly where they were. Mingo glanced at the room of children, puzzled. Not understanding the problem, he frowned. The expression transmitting disapproval made the two little boys grasp the bench and slump down. In the back, August Himmel guffawed. Mingo shot a disapproving look at the tall German boy and the boy sent a challenging look right back.
Rising to his full height, Mingo again called the first spelling class. His towering, dark appearance further unsettled the two little boys, and Chuckie began to cry. Totally unnerved, the tall Cherokee stared at the tears running down the little pale face. Beside Chuckie little Pauley began to sniff. Jemima set her lips and raised her hand. Mingo saw the movement at the back of the room and nodded to Jemima.
"Sir, may I talk to you please?"
Mingo nodded and the small pioneer girl rushed to the front of the room and faced her friend. "They're scared of you. They don't know you and you are so tall that they're intimidated. They're used to Mr. Clover."
Mingo stared down into Jemima's blue eyes. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture familiar to Daniel's daughter. Jemima answered him softly, "Get Mr. Clover's chair and sit down in front of them. Be sure to talk real soft and they'll be alright." She smiled encouragingly and turned. Then she faced her friend once again and said, "Get everybody else busy first, though, or the others will cause trouble because they're bored."
Mingo nodded his thanks and looked over the schedule that Francis had given him. It suddenly occurred to him that Mr. Clover had made many, many assumptions as he wrote out the document before him. The subjects were listed in order, and the times, but no mention had been made of occupying non-reciting students. Mingo froze as the realization formed in his mind. What could he give the other eighteen students to do while he listened to the two crying little boys?
Minutes passed and the children naturally began to fidget and whisper. Mingo understood that he must do something quickly, but what? Suddenly he had an inspiration. He could solve both the fidgeting and the crying in the same way. A spelling bee!
Smiling in relief, he faced the roomful of children.
"Students, we will have a spelling bee. I want you to number yourselves as one's or two's and make two lines, one down the east wall and one down the west wall. You may number yourselves now."
The children complied, some with good humor and some with grumbling. The two little boys had both numbered themselves 'ones', and Mingo had to adjust the lines accordingly, but the minor problem was easily overcome. His heart beating more slowly as his instruction produced results, he took the speller and pronounced the first word.
"Cat," he directed to Pauley McCarthy.
"Dog," the little boy replied.
Several of the older boys guffawed at the answer. Pauley began to cry again. Mingo sighed and dropped his head. Pauley began to sob as he read Mingo's body language as disapproval once again. Pauley's sister Molly began to cry in sympathy. So did Chuckie Custer. Pip Smallwood grasped Molly's hand in sympathy. August Himmel poked Josiah Smallwood with the blunt edge of his pocketknife. Josiah punched August. Emil responded by pushing Josiah. Josiah pushed Emil back, and the boy lost his footing and fell against Callie Custer. She tipped into Israel Boone, who tripped Dolly McCarthy. Dolly fell and hit her head on the edge of Mr. Clover's desk. She began to cry as the blood from the cut above her eye dripped down her cheek. And it was only 8:30.