The Search for Soaring Hawk

Chapter 2: The Vision Quest-3

The month of the Thunder Moon had arrived. Since Rides the Wind had said Small Hawk’s quest could begin anytime during this month, he had decided to go when the moon was full. Every night he watched the sky as the moon rose. As the moon approached fullness, he stopped eating. Finally, the orange orb had risen behind the trees of the forest, large, round and full. He was ready to leave the next morning.

Now he made his way out of the village. He took nothing with him, save a deer bladder filled with water and a small pouch. That morning the shaman had appeared at his lodge as he was saying goodbye to his father, mother and sisters. Fox Cub and Young Otter were there as well. Small Hawk had not told Rides the Wind when he was to leave. Somehow, the wise man had sensed it. After all the goodbyes and good wishes had been given, the shaman handed the boy the pouch.

“Take this into the circle,” was all he said.

Taking his leave from his family, friends and the shaman, he purposely left the village on the side opposite that of Lean Bear’s clearing. Just as he entered the forest, however, Lean Bear emerged. The man stopped and smiled at him, startling Small Hawk. Placing his hand around the boy’s neck, Lean Bear bent forward and whispered, “May your quest reveal the truth.” Then he continued on his way.

Once the man disappeared from view, Small Hawk could not decide if he had truly seen him or if he had imagined it. This unsettled him. He had fasted for the prescribed two days. Could this be one of the effects of the fast—seeing things that were not really there?

He was not sure where he was to go. He only knew he wanted to be far from the clearing. He hoped his choosing a place that had no meaning for him would not lessen the effects of the quest. After wandering for several hours, he stopped to rest under an ancient oak at the edge of a meadow. He took a sip of water from the deer bladder.

The hot summer sun shone through the leaves of the old tree. Small Hawk leaned against the trunk. Tipping his head back, he looked up into the branches. There he saw a nest of sticks. He heard a screech. Looking out over the meadow, he saw a hawk flying toward the tree, holding a rabbit in its talons. The bird landed on the nest, and Small Hawk could hear the peeping of the young as they fought for their share of the meal. The hawk stood on the branch beside the nest and looked down into Small Hawk’s eyes. It c****d its head to one side and then took flight, circling the area in front of the oak. Small Hawk knew where his quest was to begin.

The boy stood and removed his breechclout, folding it and leaving it by the trunk of the oak. He looked around and found a large stick. With the stick, he dug a circle the diameter of which was twice his height. When he finished, he stood just outside the perimeter looking in. He held his water bladder and the pouch Rides the Wind had given him. A feeling that was a mixture of joy and fear swept over him as he gazed into the circle. The words of the shaman came to him.

“It is the first step to your coming to manhood. The more seriously you approach it, the more you will learn about yourself and your destiny in the world.”

“What will I do inside the circle?” he had asked.

“You will look into your soul.”

Small Hawk stepped into the circle.

At first, he felt disappointed. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he had hoped it would not be this ordinary. He chided himself. The quest had just begun. For the first several hours, he sat and looked around at the countryside. He took a brief nap. He got up and paced around the circle. His thoughts were random: his parents, sisters, friends. He thought of life in the village, his fishing and hunting trips with his father, Lean Bear.

He quickly put that thought out of his mind.

He was quite hungry now. He had not eaten for almost three days. He tried not to dwell on it. But the frequent return of the hawk to the nest with food for the young was a constant reminder of the fact his stomach was empty. He wished this were not a part of the quest.

The day became hotter as the afternoon wore on. He drank from the bladder frequently. He realized if he kept drinking as he was, he would soon run out of water. He devised a plan for rationing it.

As the sun set, the hawk returned to the nest. The sounds of the night began to emerge—the crickets, an owl, something scurrying in the dry leaves of the forest floor behind the old oak, the howl of a wolf. Upon hearing that cry, Small Hawk shuddered in fear. He was out in the open, alone, with no weapon. He wished now he had chosen a location for his vision quest closer to the village. Wolves never came near the village. He sat down in the middle of the circle and hugged his knees, rocking back and forth.

The warm summer night descended. It was the night of the full Thunder Moon and it bathed the meadow in a silver light as it rose above the trees to the east. The rising of the moon increased the baying of the wolves. How far away are they? He rose and paced the circle, shivering despite the summer heat.

As he gazed out into the meadow, he saw shadows emerge from the trees. His heart pounded in his ears; his mouth went dry. He strained his eyes to make out which animals were cautiously making their way out onto the grassy field.

“Deer,” he said aloud, surprising himself with the sound of his own voice. The herd stopped, evidently hearing him as well. The sight of the deer herd calmed him. If the deer were on the meadow, the wolves were not close. Yet, the presence of prey could also draw them to this place. For now, however, he relaxed. The behavior of the deer would alert him to danger.

He sat once more and watched the animals begin to graze, their silhouettes highlighted by the moon. The silver outlines of the deer, along with the twinkle of fireflies, transformed the meadow into a place of magic. The wolves had stopped their baying. The more soothing sounds of night replaced them once more. The boy smiled, his fear slipping away.

Small Hawk’s stomach growled. He took a sip of water from the deer bladder. He lay down on his back and stared up into the starry, moonlit sky through the leaves of the old oak. He heard the rustle of the hawk chicks as they shifted in their nest, safe under the watchful eyes of their parents. The sounds of the hawk family caused a feeling of security to steal over him. He curled up on the ground and slept.