CHAPTER I

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Transcriber's Note:

- Illustration captions in {brackets} have been added by the transcriber

for reader convenience.

- The position of some illustrations has been changed to better fit with

the context.

- Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. In all

other cases spelling, hyphenation, and capitalization have been retained

as in the original publication, except for the following:

- Page 108, "re-loaded" changed to "reloaded", consistent with

other instances (As Hawk Eye reloaded his gun).

* * * * *

[Illustration: {Cover.}]

[Illustration: {Left inside cover. Family sitting outside tepee.}]

[Illustration: THE SHAFTS SPED TO THEIR MARKS AND TWO BIRDS FLUTTERED

AND FELL TO EARTH.]

HAWK EYE

BY

DAVID CORY

_Author of_

"LITTLE INDIAN," and others

[Illustration: {Hawk Eye with rabbit.}]

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1938, BY

GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.

_All Rights Reserved_

_Printed in the United States of America_

FOREWORD

There is a secure immortality and a depth of intuition in the utterance

of Wordsworth, the peer of nature's poets, when from his pastoral reed

he strikes the notes:

"The child is father of the man."

Nothing could be more insistently and persistently true of the Indian

child--the girl to be the mother of warriors, the boy to become a hero

and the father of future "braves."

It goes back, all of it, to a heredity born of three vital and

vitalizing forces. The Indian holds with steadfastness and devotion to

his many and weird ceremonies, but these all lead him back to the

supreme, piloting force of his life, his unfailing faith in the Great

Mystery.

The altar stairs to the spirit world are hills, buttressed by granite;

trees that talk with the winds--whispers from the spirit world; the

thunder of the waterfall--the voice of the Great Mystery; stars--the

footprints of warriors treading the highways of the Happy Hunting

Ground. In all of these he sees God.

Falling into communion with this happy philosophy of life, the glory of

Indian motherhood crosses our path--and there are few things more

beautiful. When the day of expectation dawns upon her, she seeks the

solitude of all the majesty in which from childhood she has seen the

footprints of God--revels, communes, rehearses to herself the heroism of

the greatest hero of her tribe, and all that the impress of it may be

felt upon the master man, the miracle of whose life has been entrusted

to her to work out.

For the first two full years of his life, a spiritual hand guides his

steps. There, in struggle and patience and self-denial, he must learn

all of nature's glad story.

His grandparents then take him into their school. He learns to ride

before he can walk; he is taught the use of the bow and arrow, which

means hitting the mark, keenness of vision, a steady aim, precision, so

that when the crisis comes he is ready--an ample reason for the brave,

effective and self-reliant conduct of the Indian soldier on the fields

of France in the World War.

Deep breathing in the open air, giving full lung power; self-denial,

giving strength of limb and endurance in the race; fellowship with all

of nature's winsome and wild moods; a discerning will power; a steadfast

reliance upon the guiding hand of the Great Spirit, empower the Indian

boy to stand on all the high hills of history and challenge any militant

force that may confront him.

The sphere is complete; Boy: Mother: God.

[Illustration: Signature, Joseph K Dixon]

Leader of the Rodman Wanamaker Historical

Expeditions to the North American Indian

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Any writer who adds to the number of books on that ever fascinating

subject, the American Indian, must owe thanks to many authors who have

written about the Indians. My special thanks, for information concerning

the customs and legends of the Sioux, are given to:

Joseph Kossuth Dixon, author of _The Vanishing Race_,

George Bird Grinnell, author of _When Buffalo Ran_,

Charles A. Eastman, author of _Indian Boyhood_,

Lewis Spence, author of _The Myths of the North American Indians_.

Grateful acknowledgment is made, also, of valuable information found in

the _Thirty-Second Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology_.

DAVID CORY

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I WILD GEESE 13

II PLANS AND PELTS 20

III LOADING THE CANOES 28

IV JEALOUS SLOW DOG 34

V HAWK EYE'S OFFERING 40

VI THE BEAR 47

VII THE KILL 51

VIII THE PELT IS REMOVED 57

IX THE RAPIDS 61

X THE BEAVER DAM 67

XI TOEPRINTS IN THE SAND 76

XII ACROSS THE PRAIRIE 83

XIII THE BOYS ARE TAKEN PRISONERS 89

XIV HAWK EYE'S REVENGE 96

XV TWO GOOD SHOTS 102

XVI OHITIKA IS WOUNDED 108

XVII THE TRADING POST 113

XVIII JOURNEY'S END 120

HAWK EYE

CHAPTER I

WILD GEESE

Slow Dog, Medicine Man, looked out of his lodge. Wild geese were honking

overhead. To the Indian it meant the return of spring.

"I must be the first to kill one," muttered Slow Dog. Entering his

lodge, he presently came out with bow and arrows. Hastening toward a

bend in the river which formed a sheltered cove, he hid among a clump of

willow bushes and waited in the hope that the birds might come down to

feed.

Slow Dog was not the only one to notice the geese, however. Two boys,

one about fifteen years of age, the other, close to thirteen, had also

heard the honking.

"Get your bow and arrows," cried Hawk Eye, the elder, darting into his

tepee. The younger boy, Raven Wing, ran to his lodge for his weapons. In

a few minutes both were hurrying to the river.

"There's Slow Dog hiding in the bushes," whispered Raven Wing. "He

wishes to be the first to bring one to earth."

"Leave him there," answered Hawk Eye, noticing that the flock, headed by

an old gander, had slightly altered its course. "The geese are making

for the lake." Breaking into a run, the boys headed for Big Stone Lake,

from whose southern boundary issued the "sky-tinted waters" of the

Minnesota River.

As they hurried through the timber belt that bordered the river's edge,

Raven Wing remarked, "they may come down in the marsh."

Ice still lay thick upon the lake, but on the shallower waters it had

begun to melt under the increasing warmth of the sun.

"Can they see us?" asked Hawk Eye as Raven Wing, who was in the lead,

stopped at the further end of the grove.

"No. We have yet time to run across this open space," answered the

younger boy.

On reaching a thicket of willows, the boys halted; then crept in to

almost the edge of a frozen stretch of swamp.

"Here they come!" whispered Raven Wing. As the flock settled on the

marshland, Hawk Eye fitted an arrow to his bow. "I'll take the one close

to the leader," he said. Almost simultaneously Raven Wing let fly his

arrow. The feathered ash wood shafts sped to their marks and two birds

fluttered and fell to earth. Alarmed at the fall of their comrades, the

flock rose in the air, but before they could get beyond arrow range, two

more birds dropped to earth.

"We've outwitted Slow Dog," chuckled Hawk Eye, as he made his way over

the half-frozen ground to pick up his birds.

"He must return empty-handed," laughed Raven Wing, retrieving his

arrows from the birds he had slain. "What do you intend to do with your

first kill?" he asked.

"Give it to Old Smoky Wolf," answered Hawk Eye. "The goose first slain

in the Spring is always made the occasion for a feast."

"I will give mine to my stepfather, Black Eagle," said Raven Wing. "He

will be our chief when Old Smoky Wolf takes the trail of departed

warriors."

"Because you have outwitted him, Slow Dog will now bear another grudge

against you," went on Hawk Eye.

"Perhaps it were better had I not seen the geese," sighed Raven Wing. "I

would not be the cause for further trouble between him and my

stepfather."

"Slow Dog would find one if it suited his fancy," said Hawk Eye. "He has

a tongue with two ends, like a serpent's. But he has no need to look for

an excuse. He has not forgotten that it was you who discovered the

buffalo herd during the great blizzard and so saved us all from

starvation. Had you not done so, he would have succeeded in convincing

many that the famine had been sent by the gods to punish us all for

allowing your mother to hunt with the men. You, he hates. But for you,

he might have persuaded the tribe to elect him chief in place of Old

Smoky Wolf."

"He hates Black Eagle," said Raven Wing, sadly.

"Because he knows our warriors will choose Black Eagle to succeed Old

Smoky Wolf," added Hawk Eye.

As the boys neared camp, Slow Dog came out of the bushes by the river

bank. A scowl spread over his face on seeing the dead geese. "He is a

great hunter when the birds fly down to be killed," he sneered.

[Illustration: SLOW DOG CAME OUT OF THE BUSHES BY THE RIVER BANK.]

"Had they not changed their course, your arrow would have slain one,"

answered Raven Wing, quietly.

Slow Dog turned on his heel and walked to his tepee. The two boys

continued on their way. Presently they halted beside Old Smoky Wolf's

lodge. At the sound of approaching footsteps, the aged chief had bade

his wife go out to greet whoever the visitors might be.

Hawk Eye handed her one of the birds he had slain. "'Tis the first goose

brought to earth. Hawk Eye would present it to our chief," explained the

boy. As he and Raven Wing were about to turn away, Old Smoky Wolf

appeared in the doorway of the lodge. He gravely thanked Hawk Eye on

learning of the gift.

"You both shall come to the feast," he added kindly. The boys thanked

him and as they turned away, a smile spread over Old Smoky Wolf's

wrinkled face.

"My tribe are not women. A brave is no stranger in my village. These

boys will become great hunters. At the sound of their moccasins the

beaver will lie down to be killed," grunted the old chief.

[Illustration: {Hunter and buffalo.}]

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