Читать книгу White Feather 3-Book Bundle - Jennifer Dance - Страница 6

The boy was tied to the courtyard post by his wrists. The rest of the students had to gather around and watch, as if the whipping was a powwow at the summer camp of The People. The whip was made of rawhide strips, each with a knot at the end. They ate into the flesh of his back and coiled around his ribcage. It was worse than any pain he had ever felt, but he bit down on his lip until he tasted blood and didn’t cry out. The other boys were silent until the very end, and then a strange thing happened: one started to stomp his boot on the ground in a slow, mournful rhythm, like a drumbeat. Another boy picked up the rhythm, and another, and another, until every boy in the school stomped as one, until the ground pulsed, until the master had shouted himself hoarse.