The Search for Soaring Hawk Read online

  “He does this to show he is available to men in need, he will do for them as a woman would.”

  “But why would a man want to be with Lean Bear that way?”

  The man smiled at his son. “You ask many questions, Small Hawk. Soon you will understand what it is like to be in need. Before a man marries, he must take care of these needs in other ways. One way is to visit one like Lean Bear.”

  The boy thought about this. He had seen Spirit of the Tree leave the village with Lean Bear. Spirit of the Tree was married. “Do married men visit ikoueta as well?”

  “Yes, sometimes.”

  “But, why?”

  “I cannot say for sure. There are times when a man’s wife is not available to him: when she is sick or near her time with a child. If the need is great, then he might visit a squaw inside a man, a man with two spirits.”

  Small Hawk’s next question was out of his mouth before he could think to stop himself. “Have you ever visited Lean Bear?”

  “No, never,” his father replied.

  Small Hawk stared down at his feet, thinking. “Do the people like Lean Bear?” He gazed up at his father.

  River Runs Deep looked at him as if he thought this an odd question. “I do not understand. Why would the people not like him?”

  “Because he is not like other men,” Small Hawk said, looking down again. “The book of mother’s God says he should be killed.”

  “Ah,” the man said. “I see. First, know this, my son. The Book of Sky Eyes’ God is from the white men. It has no authority in our tribe. As for Lean Bear not being as other men are is no reason to dislike him. He is what he is. Because he was created in this way, he still has value and deserves our respect.”

  Small Hawk thought further. “Fox Cub said Lean Bear would not marry. Is this true?”

  “Lean Bear is of two spirits. He will not marry. He will never be a brave. He will live as he does now. He will help men in need. That will be his life in the tribe.”

  The boy pressed farther. “Is he happy?”

  “You ask too many questions,” his father said with a laugh. “Come, it is time to go home for dinner.”

  The two set off for the village. River Runs Deep had answered some of the boy’s questions, but the one that really mattered to the boy remained unanswered. Small Hawk wondered: Could Lean Bear be happy? The question kept coming to his mind, though he did not know why.

  Over the next few moons of summer, Small Hawk often found himself walking near the dwelling of this man with whom he had become fascinated. He watched as different men of the tribe came to talk with Lean Bear. Sometimes he followed them, hid again in the bushes and watched as they satisfied their needs. As he watched, he would find himself aroused and excited. He did not share his curiosity with Fox Cub or any of his other friends.

  He had the urge to speak with Lean Bear, to find out from the man himself how he felt about this life he was destined to lead. But he did not. He kept all his thoughts inside himself.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE VISION QUEST

  “This is the summer of our vision quest,” Fox Cub said to Small Hawk and Young Otter.

  Three years had passed since the day the boys had hidden in the trees to spy on Lean Bear. Three years during which Small Hawk had often returned to the clearing, sometimes following Lean Bear and the man or men with him, sometimes alone. Small Hawk did not know why he did this. But when he did, he often pleasured himself, thinking of the things he witnessed in this place. It was here he had first produced seed.

  The three friends had been swimming in the river. They were now lying in the warm sun to dry, their breechclouts hanging on a nearby bush.

  “When will we learn about the quest?” Young Otter asked.

  “Rides the Wind will call us to his lodge. The time is up to him. He will tell us of the quest then,” Small Hawk said.

  Young Otter sat up and hugged his knees. “Will we go alone to Rides the Wind’s lodge?”

  “Ho, ho,” said Fox Cub as he laughed. “Are you afraid?”

  “Yes,” Young Otter replied defensively.

  Fox Cub laughed again and threw a small stone at his friend.

  “There’s nothing to fear. Our shaman is a wise and good man,” said Small Hawk.

  “You can say that, Small Hawk,” said Young Otter, still holding his knees and staring at the river. “You’re the grandson of the chief. You have been with Rides the Wind many times. I’ve never spoken to him.”

  “I still say you have nothing to fear. You’ll see; you will like him.”

  Young Otter did not look convinced.

  “I can hardly wait to receive my new name. I am too old and too big to be called Fox Cub,” he said, standing and flexing his biceps.

  “What name will you choose?” asked Young Otter.

  “His spirit guide will choose the name,” Small Hawk interjected, rolling over on his stomach and pulling out a few blades of grass.

  “Can I not say what name I want?” said Fox Cub, sitting down cross-legged.

  “I don’t know. You can ask that of Rides the Wind. I only know my father was given the name River Runs Deep by his spirit guide.”

  “What form did his spirit guide take?” asked Young Otter.

  “A river monster,” yelled Fox Cub and lunged at the smaller boy, who screamed in surprise. The two wrestled in the grass for a time.

  Small Hawk laughed as he watched his two friends roll about. “Come, it’s time we went back to the village.”

  He stood up and walked to the bush where their breechclouts hung. The other two followed.

  As he unfolded his garment, preparing to put it on, he looked and saw that Young Otter was staring at him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Why is it you have so much more hair down there than we do?”

  “Or than most of the men of the village?” Fox Cub added. “And you have hair that grows up to your belly button.”

  Small Hawk looked down. He felt himself blush. He did, indeed, have much more pubic hair than the other men of the village. He had a trail of hair growing up to his navel, and even some hair beginning to grow around his nipples. He had asked his father about this.

  “Your mother is white,” he had answered. “White men have much hair on their bodies. Perhaps your white grandfather had the hide of a bear.” River Runs Deep had laughed at this, but Small Hawk did not think it funny. He was not sure how he felt about the prospect of having hair like a bear.

  Small Hawk shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore his embarrassment. “My father says my white grandfather might be hairy like a bear.”

  To his relief, the other boys laughed at this. He sheepishly joined in.

  “I wager your spirit guide will be a hairy old bear,” Fox Cub said still laughing.

  The three donned their breechclouts and made their way to the village. As they approached, three men came toward them. Lean Bear was among them. As they passed the boys, Fox Cub and Young Otter snickered into their hands. Small Hawk, however, did not laugh.

  * * * “Rides the Wind wishes to see you,” Sky Eyes said to her son as he rounded the corner of the lodge, carrying a load of wood for the cooking fire. “Your father left word as he was leaving this morning for the hunt.”

  A thrill shot through his body. His disappointment at not being invited to join the men on their hunt was erased. “When?” he asked excitedly, dropping the sticks next to the pit.

  “When you have stacked the wood as it should be done,” his mother said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” said Small Hawk. He set to the task of stacking the kindling. “But does he really want to see me today?”

  “Yes, today.” She smiled, but the smile had a hint of sadness in it. She walked to her son. He stood. He was now much taller than she. Sky Eyes reached up and stroked his cheek. Small Hawk understood. Her son was on the threshold of manhood. He knew this must be both a happy and sad day for her.

  As if not
wanting to dwell on those thoughts, she said, “Now finish this job. Do not keep the shaman waiting.”

  The boy quickly stacked the wood next to the fire pit, hugged his mother and made off for the shaman’s lodge at a lope. He passed Young Otter. “I’m going to meet with Rides the Wind,” he called to his friend. “My vision quest!”

  Young Otter smiled and waved.

  Small Hawk slowed to a walk. He did not want to come to the lodge of the shaman out of breath and acting like a child. He was about to take his first formal steps into manhood. He would approach it like a man. He paused and waited until his breathing was more normal, then proceeded to Rides the Wind’s dwelling.

  When he arrived at the lodge, he was not sure what to do or how he should announce his presence. For the first time since his mother told him Rides the Wind wanted to see him, Small Hawk was anxious. He stood awkwardly outside the entrance to the lodge. Before he could decide what he should do, the robe at the entry was pushed back and Fox Cub emerged.

  The two friends stood for a moment smiling. Then they threw their arms around each other and thumped each other on the back.

  “When do you go on your vision quest?” asked Small Hawk, assuming that was why Fox Cub was there.

  “Anytime during the month of the green corn moon.”

  “That’s a long way off,” Small Hawk said, hoping his appointed time would be sooner.

  “I know. But at least I have a time. Young Otter has not even been called yet.”

  At that moment, Rides the Wind came out of the lodge. Although his braids were grey, the skin of his face was smooth and his eyes bright. He stood straight and tall, not appearing to be an old man. Small Hawk knew the shaman and his grandfather, the chief, had been boyhood friends. Yet this man did not show his age as his grandfather did.

  The boys turned to the shaman.

  “Ah, Small Hawk,” he said in greeting. “I’m glad you’re here. I see Fox Cub is sharing the news of his vision quest.”

  The two young men nodded.

  “Well, come in, my son, and we will talk of your quest.”

  Fox Cub said goodbye and went on his way. Small Hawk and Rides the Wind entered the lodge. The shaman indicated the boy should sit near the fire pit. There the coals burned low, and Small Hawk caught the aroma of a sweet smelling herb. It was a pleasant scent and, in a few moments, he felt a wave of relaxation sweep over him.

  For some time, the two sat in silence. The effects of the herb seemed to abate Small Hawk’s anxiousness to find out the details of what was to come. While he still wanted to know what the quest entailed, he felt he could easily wait until the shaman was ready to tell him. He felt very calm and at ease.

  After a while, Rides the Wind spoke. Small Hawk stared into the glowing coals as he did.

  “You are about to go on your vision quest. 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.”

  Small Hawk looked up from the fire pit and into the deep, dark eyes of the shaman. He felt something stir within him. Rides the Wind held his gaze and continued.

  “You may begin your quest at anytime during the month of the Thunder Moon. The quest will last for two to four days. For two days before the quest, you will eat nothing. You will not eat again until the quest is finished. You may bring only water to drink. When you reach the place of the quest, you will trace a circle that is two times your height. You will stay within that circle for the entire time you are on the quest.”

  “When you are ready to enter the circle, you will discard your garments. They, and all things from this world, must remain outside the circle. You must not leave the circle for any reason. Once you do, the quest has ended.”

  Rides the Wind paused, waiting to see if Small Hawk had anything to say.

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

  “You will look into your soul.” Still holding his gaze, the shaman narrowed his eyes, as if trying to penetrate into Small Hawk’s mind.

  “How do I do that?” he asked.

  “It is different for each of us. You’ll know how you are to proceed as the quest unfolds. One word of warning.”

  “Yes?”

  “Often a strong urge to leave the quest area will come to the seeker and a feeling of losing one’s mind may set in. You overcome this by remembering the purpose of the quest and the good that will come of it. These feelings will pass.”

  Once more the shaman paused as if to let this wisdom settle in the young man’s mind.

  After some time had passed, he continued.

  “If you are serious and endure, you may be granted the special privilege of meeting your spirit guide. Not everyone who goes on a vision quest has the good fortune of meeting his guide. When your guide appears, listen to it. It has great power to show you who you are. Once it has revealed itself, and you have received its wisdom, ask for some token that you may carry to remind you of its presence in your life.”

  “Where will I go?” Small Hawk asked.

  “Anywhere away from the village to a place that has significant meaning for you. It is up to you.”

  The first location that came to mind was the clearing; the clearing he had visited so many times over the years, the clearing he associated with Lean Bear. The thought disturbed him.

  It must have shown on his face because Rides the Wind asked, “Is something troubling you?”

  Small Hawk quickly responded, “No, I just…ah…just don’t know where I’ll go.”

  “Is there no place where you’ve shared a special time with someone: your father, some of your friends?”

  Again, the clearing came to Small Hawk’s mind. He pushed it aside once more. “I’ll find a place,” he said finally.

  The shaman looked at him with his wise eyes. Small Hawk almost felt the man knew the conflict within him.

  “I know you will,” Rides the Wind said, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  * * * 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 hear
d 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 cocked 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.