For three months Wabi devoted himself faithfully to his studies in Detroit.  But each week added to his loneliness and his longings for Minnetaki and his forests.  The passing of each day became a painful task to him.  To Minnetaki he wrote three times each week, and three times each week the little maiden at Wabinosh House wrote long, cheering letters to her brother—­though they came to Wabi only about twice a month, because only so often did the mail-carrier go out from the Post.

It was at this time in his lonely school life that Wabigoon became acquainted with Roderick Drew.  Roderick, even as Wabi fancied himself to be just at this time, was a child of misfortune.  His father had died before he could remember, and the property he had left had dwindled slowly away during the passing of years.  Rod was spending his last week in school when he met Wabigoon.  Necessity had become his grim master, and the following week he was going to work.  As the boy described the situation to his Indian friend, his mother “had fought to the last ditch to keep him in school, but now his time was up.”  Wabi seized upon the white youth as an oasis in a vast desert.  After a little the two became almost inseparable, and their friendship culminated in Wabi’s going to live in the Drew home.  Mrs. Drew was a woman of education and refinement, and her interest in Wabigoon was almost that of a mother.  In this environment the ragged edges were smoothed away from the Indian boy’s deportment, and his letters to Minnetaki were more and more filled with enthusiastic descriptions of his new friends.  After a little Mrs. Drew received a grateful letter of thanks from the princess mother at Wabinosh House, and thus a pleasant correspondence sprang up between the two.

There were now few lonely hours for the two boys.  During the long winter evenings, when Roderick was through with his day’s work and Wabi had completed his studies, they would sit before the fire and the Indian youth would describe the glorious life of the vast northern wilderness; and day by day, and week by week, there steadily developed within Rod’s breast a desire to see and live that life.  A thousand plans were made, a thousand adventures pictured, and the mother would smile and laugh and plan with them.

But in time the end of it all came, and Wabi went back to the princess mother, to Minnetaki, and to his forests.  There were tears in the boys’ eyes when they parted, and the mother cried for the Indian boy who was returning to his people.  Many of the days that followed were painful to Roderick Drew.  Eight months had bred a new nature in him, and when Wabi left it was as if a part of his own life had gone with him.  Spring came and passed, and then summer.  Every mail from Wabinosh House brought letters for the Drews, and never did an Indian courier drop a pack at the Post that did not carry a bundle of letters for Wabigoon.

Then in the early autumn, when September frosts were turning the leaves of the North to red and gold, there came the long letter from Wabi which brought joy, excitement and misgiving into the little home of the mother and her son.  It was accompanied by one from the factor himself, another from the princess mother, and by a tiny note from Minnetaki, who pleaded with the others that Roderick and Mrs. Drew might spend the winter with them at Wabinosh House.