The Search for Soaring Hawk

Chapter 1: Small Hawk-2

Small Hawk sat by the side of the lodge watching his mother and sisters preparing the evening meal for the family. Sky Eyes, as the tribe called his mother, was a white woman. Her Indian name, as the boy knew, was attributed to the deep vivid blue of her eyes. She had shared her story with Small Hawk and his sisters. Her white man’s name was Martha Hawkins. She had been brought here as a prisoner of Chief Kikusgowlowa. The chief and his people had passed through this village as they moved beyond the big river from their home in the east to escape the encroachment of the whites.

Small Hawk’s father, River Runs Deep, had told the boy how he had been attracted to her the moment he first saw her. Since he was the son of the chief of Small Hawk’s people, an exchange was readily arranged and the white woman, along with two horses, had been traded for fox and beaver furs, deerskins and a large number of finely made bows and arrows.

River Runs Deep took her as his wife immediately. Small Hawk was glad his father had made no objection to her teaching him and his sisters English, making them aware of their white heritage, and reading to them from her God’s book. He found the stories of the white man’s life interesting. Small Hawk often teased his mother about her being part of a bargain that included two horses.

“Mother?” Small Hawk asked in English when his sisters had entered the lodge.

“Yes, Samuel?” she replied using the white man’s name she had given him.

He did not reply at once. She stopped her meal preparations and looked to where he was sitting.

“What is it, Samuel? Is something troubling you?”

Small Hawk hesitated. He did not know how to bring up the disturbing thoughts of what he had witnessed earlier that day. Finally he said, “Lean Bear wears a garment which allows everyone to see him from behind. Why does he do this?”

Sky Eyes seemed surprised. “Why do you ask me this?” she said.

Small Hawk was fearful. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it is all right,” his mother reassured him. “I did not expect a question like this from you so soon.”

“I am nearly thirteen summers,” the boy said, standing as if to emphasize the point.

She came around the cooking fire and laid an arm on his shoulder. “Yes, I forget sometimes how old you are. You will soon be a man and go on your vision quest. It is time for you to know some things a grown man should.”

Small Hawk smiled at her. He was almost as tall as she was. This pleased him.

“But,” she said, “I would rather your father explain about Lean Bear. His people look upon such as him differently than do the people from which I came.”

“How is that, my mother?”

She bit her lower lip, as if not sure she should speak of these matters. “According to the book of my God—”

“The Bible?” the boy interrupted.

“Yes, the Bible,” she continued. “People such as Lean Bear were called an abomination in the sight of God and were to be put to death.”

Small Hawk was taken aback. “Do you believe this?”

“I am of your people now. I accept many things I never would have when I lived among white men. Although, I must confess, sometimes it is still difficult for me.”

“So, you do not think Lean Bear is an abom… abom…”

“Abomination.”

“Yes, an abomination?”

“I do not know. I only know my God’s Bible says he is, and the God of this people does not seem to think so. And, as I said, I am now of this people. You must talk of this with your father.”