Son of the Hawk Read Online Free
Author: Charles G. West
Booth tried to explain, still laughing.
Still confused, Charlie shook his head and said, “Not much map.” He returned to his plundering of the packs.
Booth decided to stay where they were that night, and start out for Montana territory the next morning. He knew there were a couple of mining camps out there that his reputation had not reached. They could sell most of the tools there, and all of the food supplies.That decided, they dragged the bodies away from camp since they were already attracting a horde of flies. Booth intended to get an early start the next day. It wasn’t healthy to stay too long in the Black Hills.
C HAPTER 2
B lue Water sat before her father’s tipi, pounding the kernels of wild grain into a meal that she would make into cakes. The entire camp was preparing to set out on a long journey in a few days to a place Blue Water had never seen. After returning from a meeting with the other elders of the village, her father, Broken Arm, had told her that she must make preparations to pack up the tipi. Chief Washakie had told the council members that a great conference had been called for at Fort Laramie, between the North Platte and the Laramie rivers. The purpose was to propose a peace treaty between the whites and the warring tribes along the Medicine Road that the whites called the Oregon Trail.
She looked up from her work when a group of boys ran between the lodges, laughing and shouting in a game of war. Blue Water smiled at the tall sturdy youngster leading the pack, running with the grace and strength of an antelope. Broken Arm had given her son the name of White Eagle because the boy’s skin was lighter in color than that of the other boys. It was no secret that White Eagle’s real father was a white trapper.
Blue Water had been a young girl when she had fallen in love with a sandy-haired young man at the rendezvous on the Green River eleven summers ago.She would have gone with him wherever he wanted to go, and at the time, she felt in her heart that he returned her love. But it was not to be. Broken Arm would not permit the union, and when he realized something had happened between Blue Water and the white man, he broke camp in the middle of the night and took his daughter with him, leaving the rendezvous and the young white trapper behind.
She paused to think about that time. Her young heart was broken, even then carrying the seed that would bring her a son, but she knew it was best to leave. She only regretted that she had left without saying goodbye. Stealing away in the middle of the night may have been unnecessary, but her father thought he was acting in her interest. Perhaps he was right, for the trappers no longer came to the summer rendezvous after that year. Since then troubled times followed between the white man and the Indian, although her people, the Shoshoni, remained at peace with the white men. Looking back, she could see that her place was here with her people, with the mountains to protect them from the ever increasing numbers of wagon trains following the Medicine Road. The aching in her heart for the young trapper eventually subsided, and when Eagle Claw talked to her father about making her his wife, she was not reluctant to agree to the proposal. White Eagle needed a father, and who among the warriors of her village would have been a better father to her son than Eagle Claw?
As she had hoped, Eagle Claw had proved to be a good father, teaching the boy the many skills he would need to become a warrior. Little White Eagle was an attentive pupil, and Eagle Claw soon found that his adopted son showed promise to be a leader among his peers. A frown settled upon her comely features when she thought of Eagle Claw. White Eagle was only tensummers old when Eagle Claw was killed in the war with the Gros Ventres. Blue Water had not yet taken another husband, although a year had passed since Eagle Claw’s death. There had been opportunities, for she was a handsome woman. Perhaps
Still confused, Charlie shook his head and said, “Not much map.” He returned to his plundering of the packs.
Booth decided to stay where they were that night, and start out for Montana territory the next morning. He knew there were a couple of mining camps out there that his reputation had not reached. They could sell most of the tools there, and all of the food supplies.That decided, they dragged the bodies away from camp since they were already attracting a horde of flies. Booth intended to get an early start the next day. It wasn’t healthy to stay too long in the Black Hills.
C HAPTER 2
B lue Water sat before her father’s tipi, pounding the kernels of wild grain into a meal that she would make into cakes. The entire camp was preparing to set out on a long journey in a few days to a place Blue Water had never seen. After returning from a meeting with the other elders of the village, her father, Broken Arm, had told her that she must make preparations to pack up the tipi. Chief Washakie had told the council members that a great conference had been called for at Fort Laramie, between the North Platte and the Laramie rivers. The purpose was to propose a peace treaty between the whites and the warring tribes along the Medicine Road that the whites called the Oregon Trail.
She looked up from her work when a group of boys ran between the lodges, laughing and shouting in a game of war. Blue Water smiled at the tall sturdy youngster leading the pack, running with the grace and strength of an antelope. Broken Arm had given her son the name of White Eagle because the boy’s skin was lighter in color than that of the other boys. It was no secret that White Eagle’s real father was a white trapper.
Blue Water had been a young girl when she had fallen in love with a sandy-haired young man at the rendezvous on the Green River eleven summers ago.She would have gone with him wherever he wanted to go, and at the time, she felt in her heart that he returned her love. But it was not to be. Broken Arm would not permit the union, and when he realized something had happened between Blue Water and the white man, he broke camp in the middle of the night and took his daughter with him, leaving the rendezvous and the young white trapper behind.
She paused to think about that time. Her young heart was broken, even then carrying the seed that would bring her a son, but she knew it was best to leave. She only regretted that she had left without saying goodbye. Stealing away in the middle of the night may have been unnecessary, but her father thought he was acting in her interest. Perhaps he was right, for the trappers no longer came to the summer rendezvous after that year. Since then troubled times followed between the white man and the Indian, although her people, the Shoshoni, remained at peace with the white men. Looking back, she could see that her place was here with her people, with the mountains to protect them from the ever increasing numbers of wagon trains following the Medicine Road. The aching in her heart for the young trapper eventually subsided, and when Eagle Claw talked to her father about making her his wife, she was not reluctant to agree to the proposal. White Eagle needed a father, and who among the warriors of her village would have been a better father to her son than Eagle Claw?
As she had hoped, Eagle Claw had proved to be a good father, teaching the boy the many skills he would need to become a warrior. Little White Eagle was an attentive pupil, and Eagle Claw soon found that his adopted son showed promise to be a leader among his peers. A frown settled upon her comely features when she thought of Eagle Claw. White Eagle was only tensummers old when Eagle Claw was killed in the war with the Gros Ventres. Blue Water had not yet taken another husband, although a year had passed since Eagle Claw’s death. There had been opportunities, for she was a handsome woman. Perhaps
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