Phil and Eugenie sustained me during that first difficult year at home. I told them the entire story of my weeks with the Nez Perce, leaving nothing out. They cried with me and tried to be my champions in the neighborhood. All they got for their earnest endeavor was a resounding snub from the good homeowners on McDermott Street and its environs.

I did not go out into society at all in 1878. No invitations were extended to me, and we gave out none ourselves. Mother chafed a bit at this, but she bowed gracefully enough to social pressure and learned to tat. She seemed to become more thoughtful, as well, especially after one night when my nightmares overwhelmed me, and she held me close in bed. After that, she made no complaint.

Eugenie took up needlepoint. I still have my favorite sampler of hers, framed and situated over my writing desk. I am Elizabeth Ann Everett, it reads. Mother and Father didn’t understand that one, but I never told them about my wyakim.

During our year of community ostracism, Phil’s grades improved. An indifferent student, he applied himself, eventually graduating from Omaha Academy with nearly all A’s. He parlayed that into Harvard Law and a brilliant career. Now and then he’ll take a pro bono case for me dealing with Indian rights, but that is a story for a better writer.

I spent much of my time in my room. I wore a track in the carpet by the window. I paced back and forth, usually late at night, only to stop and stand facing northwest toward Canada, where I thought Hawk might be, and where my dear friends had been returned to their ancestral homeland in the Pacific Northwest.

I erred in this fiction of the Nez Perce returning to their homeland, which brings me to public opinion, that fickle mistress. I had mentioned the favorable power of the press earlier. Father didn’t really like for the ladies in his life to read the newspaper, but I wore him down on that issue. I wanted to know more.

At first, the news of the Nez Perce remained in the readers’ minds. I read with some relief and no real surprise that after their trip from the Tongue to the Yellowstone, then the Yellowstone to the Missouri, Chief Joseph was greeted with great acclaim downriver in Bismarck. There was a band, and a banquet, and all the papers reported the happy event.

Then everything fell to pieces. I believe that General Howard and Colonel Miles were sincere in their promise to return the Nez Perce to their homeland, come spring. Instead, and over those officers’ objections, The People were sent to Fort Leavenworth in Kansas, a total of 87 men, 184 women and 147 children. Some others, mostly the Christianized Nez Perce, were sent back to Lapwai Reservation in Idaho. I could only hope that Old Mary was among that number.