Near the end of that Grade VIII year, Billy’s streak of rebellion became more pronounced. If the drastic change had a starting point, it must have been one day when about twenty of the boys decided to hold a rodeo behind the barn. Though it was against the school rules, it was a popular activity to ride the calves and generally mimic the rodeo stars. Unfortunately, a school farm instructor, a rather ill-tempered man, caught the boys in the act. Bursting in on the scene, he got confused when the boys scattered in every direction. 

        Later that week, thinking the coast was clear, about six of the boys including Billy resumed the rodeo. But the instructor was there, waiting in hiding. Once again bursting out, he was more decisive this time, and selected one of the boys to run after. That boy was Billy. 

        Knowing the man was gaining on him, Billy noticed the page wire fence (the kind of fence constructed of wire formed into open squares of about eighteen inches). Quickly calculating that he could get his slender frame through the fence, Billy dived out of the instructor’s reach. Sure enough, the fence construction which permitted Billy to escape proved too tight for the stout farm instructor. However, Billy knew his relief was short-lived. 

        Back at school, all the boys involved in the rodeo were rounded up and the frustrated farm instructor let his anger overcome his Judgment. He slapped Billy on the face and kicked him on the backside. Knowing he was already in deep trouble, Billy didn’t hit back. 

        Later, the principal sentenced the boys to a whole day’s work in the root cellar sorting out and bagging the vegetables. Once again, the farm instructor who had been led a merry chase by Billy was on the scene. Once again, he spitefully took out his anger on Billy, this time by slapping a pair of gloves against the boy’s face. That was too much. Billy lunged at the man, furiously attempting to land a blow. Others Intervened and Billy soon found himself standing on a familiar spot on the carpet of the principal’s office. Gravely, the principal listened to Billy’s account of the events then dismissed him without comment. School was closed for summer holidays about a month later. 

        The nasty incident was soon forgotten in the excitement of being back home. Helping with the summer chores, Billy found his thoughts straying to a far-off reserve where the girl whom he fancied lived. If only he had a car, he would have gone there to visit. His only consolation was that he’d see her again in a short while. It would soon be time to go back to school. This was the first time ever that he looked forward to September and the train ride back to Edmonton. 

        Whitefish Lake Reserve and Saddle Lake Reserve both be­long to the same band. The Indian Agency office for both was located at Saddle Lake. One day, Billy’s dad had some business there. He and an uncle of Billy’s made their way to the office. They arrived back home before supper. The whole family was gathered around the table when Father and Uncle Simon entered. Uncle blurted it out first. 

        “Aha!” He pointed at Billy. “You’re not allowed to go back to school.” Seeing the puzzled look on his son’s face, Dad explained. “The agent got a letter from the school. He said that you couldn’t go back to school.” 

        Hiding his surprise and disappointment, Billy let the facts sink in. So, the principal had sided with the farm instructor. It was unfair. Part of Billy really hurt. But, another part of him felt real good. No more school! He could go harvesting and make some money. He could buy new clothes and tools. He could get a car or truck someday. If he couldn’t go back to school, that was all right. There was a whole world out there waiting to be conquered. 

        No more school! It was the summer of 1948 and Bill was not yet fifteen years-old. School had given him the opportunity to learn English. He could read and write. He was good at arithmetic. School had given him that much. And, school had not taken away his pride of race. He was happy to be home, on the reserve, with his own family. 

        Billy didn’t have any immediate plan—the announcement about school had taken him by surprise. There were jobs out there. First, he’d go harvesting with Dad. They could hire out to other farmers. He could give Dad some money to help with family groceries. Then he’d see about the clothes and tools. What would come after that? Well, he was a good farm worker, or perhaps he would go up to Fort McMurray and work on the Tar Sands Project. Billy wasn’t sure about the next big step. All he knew for sure was that school days were over. Adult life had begun. 

        Billy did hire out for harvesting that fall. Though Thomas didn’t ask him to, he freely shared his wages with Dad for the benefit of the family, a gesture which Thomas graciously appreciated. When harvest ended he returned home to look after the few cattle and horses which his dad got for him through the Indian Agency. 

        Billy also got busy with his music, playing his guitar and violin, performing at dances and other celebrations on and around the reserve. It was pleasant for him to share in the joy of these events. But, the violin also became a means of leading Billy along a new path—a path which led him into the ways of the world.