Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume 2, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the summer of 1831 and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the second in a three-book trilogy. Volume 1 was Amelia Changes Her Tune.

Isaac stayed at the reserve for five days, until Wolf Paw and the women decided to go back to Mansfield and the market house.

He helped gather firewood, hunted with Wolf Paw and Francis, helped several men fix the roof of the school, and worked with Mathew Mudeater building a fence.

He tried to be helpful in every way he could, so the Wyandots would notice how grown up he was becoming, especially one Wyandot. Try as he might though, it was obvious to Isaac that Eliza thought of him as a good friend, a younger brother. It seemed she thought of Anthony Cotter as a potential husband.

This is too strange, Isaac thought. Why in the world would she be thinking about him that way, and why in the world should it matter to me? Meanwhile, Wolf Paw was less than his usual peaceful self, and Margaret Grey-Eyes seemed to be the reason.

He was quick with words that were deeper than teasing, and he seemed not to care about things that used to matter, such as Grandmother’s strawberry bread. He too worked very hard on many things those days, but in Isaac’s eyes it was not from trying to impress Margaret; it was out of frustration that she had turned her heart to David.

It was a sullen pair of young men who rode out of the reserve that next Wednesday, heading back to Mansfield. They couldn’t say much to each other, because Grandmother and Mrs. Big Rivers were within earshot, but they knew they were in sorry shape.

“We need an adventure,” Wolf Paw finally said.

“Works for me,” Isaac replied.

The boys took care of the horses when they arrived about suppertime at Mr. Day’s farm and Grandmother’s campsite. Then they asked to go on to Oakland and to stay away a few days. Grandmother said she would look for Wolf Paw for the ride home Saturday.

They returned to Oakland and the welcome of Aunt Peggy’s fried chicken, Aunt Elizabeth’s strawberry shortcake, and Isaac’s mother’s oatmeal bread, as well as Uncle Jacob’s barn chores and Isaac’s father’s broken fence row, thanks to cows scared by coyotes.

Although they complained about all the work everyone seemed to have for them (although not about the food), Isaac was glad to have a good friend to work with, and the sense of accomplishment soothed some of his wounds; he figured Wolf Paw felt the same.

As they strolled back to the Inn, to bed the horses, Isaac was wondering what it would be like not to have his best friend around. He knew the Indian Deportation Law declared that all Indians had to move to the territories, and had heard that the Wyandots were supposed to move to Kansas. He asked Wolf Paw what he thought.

“I told you, we have that reserve forever. It’s ours because the Treaty of Maumee Rapids, 13 years ago, says so.”

“Things change.”

“Like I say, not this,” Wolf Paw said.

“Look at this pair of handsome men, coming to visit the stately Oakland Inn,” Aunt Elizabeth called out as she saw them walking toward the cooking fire. “What is the news of the day?”

“Are the Indians all going to have to leave?” Isaac asked.

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

“I told you….” Wolf Paw said.

“Are the Indians going to have to leave Ohio?”

“Well, I guess the law says so, but not for another year or two, I suppose, and things can change,” Elizabeth said.

“Will they change?” Isaac asked, disgust rising in his voice.

Elizabeth paused, “I don’t know, dear. The Shawnee are mostly gone, and the Delaware and Huron are leaving. Only the Wyandots are still here and who knows how long they can resist.”

“But why?” Isaac asked.

“President Jackson wants them out west, in the territories.”

“President Jackson? Old Hickory?” Isaac resolved then and there to change the name of his horse.

“I just read that the Cherokee in Georgia are being forced to walk all the way to the other side of the Arkansas Territory,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t understand; they are as civilized, as American, as anyone else in the country.

“The old, the sick, the babies all have to go, and they are dying along the way. It is a trail of tears,” she said.

“Haven’t we always gotten along here?” Isaac said.

“Mostly, yes. We had a bad episode, back in ’12, when the war was beginning, when the folks in Greentown agreed to leave until after the war,” Elizabeth said.

“Wasn’t that a Delaware village?”

“Yes, but there were many kinds of Indians there, and some others besides — Germans, French, missionaries, new settlers. After they left, one of the soldiers who was supposed to guard the village set fire to it, destroyed it all.

“That made the Indians angry, and they took it out on Rev. Copus, the Methodist preacher who had talked them into leaving. It wasn’t his fault, but his whole family paid the price,” Elizabeth said.

“It is still there?”

“Greentown? Only some foundations I suppose. It’s a clearing off the Black Fork near Newville. You can still get there by canoe.”

Isaac and Wolf Paw looked at each other.

“We haven’t canoed anywhere for awhile. I think we have our adventure,” Isaac thought.

Once the boys were in the barn tending horses, they decided that a trip down the Black Fork to Greentown was on the next day’s agenda.