The Search for Soaring Hawk

by Terry O'Reilly

  Sam reached up and pulled Nils down on his knees beside the mat. “The day will take care of itself. The cabin will be built. We’ll find a place to call home. Right now, I want to enjoy you.” Nils sank down on the mat beside Sam and wrapped his arms around him. Their lips met and tongues danced. Their hearts beat as one. The first day of the rest of their lives had begun as it should, but how it would end would forever be etched in Sam’s memory.

  * * * The two men worked hard on the cabin that day. His partner mirrored the lightness of heart that Sam felt. Nils straddled the highest point of the cabin on top of one of the side walls. A rope stretched across the peak was raising the log that would form the center beam of the roof. The other end of the rope was attached to one of the horses. Sam gently encouraged the animal to move forward slowly, Sam looked back and listened as Nils gave instructions as to how far to raise the beam.

  “Nils,” Sam called out, stopping the horse. Nils raised his head from watching the rising beam and looked at him. “What?”

  “I think we should wait. We can have Dexter and the men come to help. This is more than we can handle by ourselves.”

  Nils placed his hands on his hips as he continued to balance at the top of the peak. Smiling down at his partner and shaking his head, he said, “We can do this. We’ve almost got it up to the notch. It’s just a foot more. Let’s just get it done.”

  Sam sighed; he knew Nils was anxious to quit this place and move on, and he was too. He turned back to the horse, softly clucking it into a careful walk.

  Just then, the dogs started barking. Sam stopped the horse, and Nils raised his head from guiding the center beam. Dexter rode out of the woods.

  “I got a surprise for you, Nils,” he called.

  Tanner came up behind, driving a wagon. There, on the seat next to him, was a young woman. Sam’s heart stopped. “Sally,” he mouthed. He looked up at Nils.

  The man was standing on the wall wide-eyed. As if waking from sleep, he shook his head. A look of confusion and pain briefly crossed his handsome face. He glanced in Sam’s direction, then he seemed to force a smile and yelled, “Sally!”

  * * * Sam sat staring into the fire. Wolf lay by his side, Molly next to Wolf. Sam was numb. He had watched as Nils had accompanied Sally back to the trading post where her parents were waiting. They had come with their daughter to find Nils, having become impatient waiting for word from him to bring Sally.

  “I’m sorry,” Nils had said. “I should’ve let her father know how things were going, how long it would take to finish the cabin. Sam, I’m sorry.”

  The way he had spoken those words was so final. He hadn’t offered any suggestion as to how they could circumvent this turn of events. He had just said he was sorry. Then he had left to go back to the post to greet the parents.

  “I’ll be back in the morning,” Nils had said.

  Sam knew what he must do.

  Taking a deep breath, he rose and went to the lodge. He

  avoided looking in the direction of the sleeping mats as he gathered his belongings. Wolf and Molly followed him. They sat in the doorway watching his every move. He went to the pen and brought his riding horse out. Taking the saddle from the lean-to that had served as their shelter, he tacked up his horse, placing his pack behind his saddle. He would leave the second horse behind.

  He walked toward the forest. Wolf and Molly followed. Sam stopped. “No, Molly,” he said, kneeling and taking her head in his hands. “You have to stay here.”

  She whined. He buried his face in her neck.

  “He’ll need you,” he said releasing her.

  She whined again, turned and walked back to the entrance to the lodge and lay down.

  He swung up into the saddle. “Come, Wolf,” he said.

  Without looking back, Sam rode out into the night.

  CHAPTER 6

  LACLEDE’S VILLAGE

  “Ya don’t have ta go, ya know,” Russell said again. He had repeated this more times than Sam could recall. “Why do ya wanna go ta the city anyway? It’s got too many people, it’s dirty and, well, ya ain’t gonna be happy there.”

  Russell continued trying to make his case for Sam to stay with him at the trading post. He had made it abundantly clear he would be very happy to take Nils’ place in Sam’s heart.

  Sam laid his hand on Russell’s shoulder. “It’s not that I want to go. I have to go.”

  Dexter joined the embrace, putting his arms around the shoulders of both men. “Don’t mind him none, Sam. You do what you need to do. We understand.”

  Sam looked at Russell. He wasn’t sure the man understood.

  The men were standing on the shore of the big river, waiting for the barge that would ferry Sam to the small city on the other side. Wolf sat at Sam’s feet. Dexter and Russell had accompanied Sam to the small settlement of Cahokia, where he would catch the ferry. Sam was grateful to Dexter for all he had done. The night Sam left Nils’ farm he had ridden into the forest. He had found a place to camp and had remained there for several weeks. When he was reasonably sure Sally’s folks had left, he returned to the trading post.

  Dexter told him some of the men went and helped Nils finish the cabin. He told Sam that Sally was staying with the new neighbor family until the wedding, which would take place at the end of the summer. Without his having to ask, Dexter let him know Nils inquired of Sam’s whereabouts regularly. With his horse, his belongings and Wolf, Sam moved back to the trading post for the summer.

  He had seen Nils only once during that time. He had come in for supplies just as Sam was walking out the door. The two men stood and stared at each other for several seconds. Nils had stepped forward, arms outstretched as if to embrace Sam. Sam had taken a step back, extended his hand and turned the hug into a handshake.

  “Sam, I don’t know what to say,” Nils had said, his voice soft, trembling.

  Sam had felt a surge of sorrow. “Don’t say anything. You’re a man of honor. You see your duty and are fulfilling it.” His mind went back to his own betrothal to Wild Flower, and how he had run from it in search of… In search of what? Just then, he wasn’t sure.

  As fall approached, Sam became restless. He knew in his heart he needed to be away from there before the wedding. But he didn’t know where to go. Returning to the village and his people was not an option. By chance, one evening, several French trappers stopped at the post. They talked of crossing the big river. The lands on the other side were more open, and trapping was flourishing there. They also talked of the city growing on the western shore, and how there was opportunity for work. Upon hearing this, Sam decided to cross the river himself and seek a new life.

  Standing now next to the dock with Dexter and Russell, the morning mist lifting from the water, he could see the barge approaching on its return trip from across the river. Sam felt reluctance, anxiety and anticipation vying for supremacy.

  Four men with long poles guided the barge to its berth. As it came to rest against the dock, the two passengers it was carrying disembarked and walked off the pier. The bargemen followed after tying the craft to the pilings.

  “You lookin’ to cross?” a burly man with a captain’s hat said to the men as he walked past them.

  “I am,” replied Sam. “Me, my horse and dog.”

  “Give us an hour,” the man returned.

  The captain, plus his crewmen, continued on as Sam, Dexter and Russell returned to where they had tied their horses. Wolf stayed close to Sam’s side.

  “Ya got yerself an hour to change yer mind,” Russell said, still pressing his idea of what was best for Sam.

  Sam just smiled at him. Somewhere inside, he wished he could return what Russell was feeling for him, but he knew he couldn’t; not here, not so close to Nils.

  When the hour had passed, the bargemen returned to the dock. They followed their lead and walked onto the wooden platform. The barge pilot took Sam’s horse and led it aboard. The animal warily walked across the gangplank and was tied to a h
itching rack in the middle of the craft. Three other passengers boarded—a man and a woman, and another man who looked to be a trapper. Sam turned to Dexter and Russell.

  Russell put his arms around him. “I wish this had turned out differently for you,” he said.

  Sam nodded as he hugged the man.

  Sam then embraced Dexter.

  “You’ve been a good friend. I don’t know if I’d have made it through this without you,” Sam said.

  “You’re a good man, Samuel Hawkins. I’m glad to know you. Remember, you always have a home with us if you need it.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Sam, with Wolf at his heels, stepped onto the barge.

  The flat-bottomed boat was poled away from the dock and into the river. Sam stood at the rail and watched as his friends receded into the distance. He waved one last time and turned to face the opposite shore.

  The river at that point was narrow and not very deep, making it an excellent place to cross. However, the pole men still had to strain to keep the craft on course for the western riverbank. Sam looked down and watched the muddy water swirl by. The man Sam had supposed was a trapper came and stood beside him.

  “First time?” he asked.

  “What?” Sam said, not understanding what he meant.

  “First time crossing the river?” the man clarified, leaning on his forearms against the rail, with his hands folded, staring across the water.

  “Yes, yes, it is.”

  “Whatcha hope to find over there?” the man asked, raising his head to indicate the approaching shore.

  What am I hoping to find? Sam allowed fleeting images of Nils to cross his mind.

  When he didn’t answer right away, the man standing next to him turned to Sam and asked, “Running away from somethin’, or to somethin?”

  “A bit of both, I guess,” Sam replied. “I’m hoping to find work.”

  “Plenty to be found over there,” the man said, nodding again in the direction of the shoreline, “both in the city and beyond that. A man who’s searching for somethin’ is pretty shore to find it out there somewhere.”

  He straightened up, looked at Sam, smiled and walked away, leaving Sam standing at the rail, staring at eddies of muddy water that churned around the barge. He raised his eyes to the city that stood on the banks of the river. What would his search lead him to in these strange new surroundings? He looked down at Wolf sitting at his side, his eyes fixed on Sam. He reached down and scratched the wolf-dog’s ears.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Don’t feel so alone having you with me.”

  Wolf whined, wagged his great plume of a tail, and leaned against Sam’s leg. Sam looked back at the advancing shore. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

  He would find what he was searching for. If not here, then, maybe beyond, but he would find it. Of that he was sure.

  The bargemen skillfully maneuvered the flat-bottomed boat to the mooring on the west side of the river. Sam untied his horse and led him off the vessel and onto the dock. There he paid the pilot. He continued on foot, leading the horse, with Wolf following close behind.

  He was struck by the contrast of the two shores. The one he had just left was calm and uncluttered; this side of the river was bustling with activity and noise. Sam’s first inclination was to find a way out of the confusion and get into the open. He mounted his horse and called to Wolf to follow, heading in a direction along the crowded street that he thought would take him away from the city.

  Within a short distance, the buildings gave way to woodlands. Sam reined up, turned and looked back. He let his mind settle. What was he to do? He had lived all his life in the peacefulness of the forest, first at home in the village, then those few months when he worked at the trading post. Even with Nils, he had lived much as he always had in a lodge in the style of his people. If he were to find out who he was—white man or Indian—he would have to experience this aspect of life among the whites. He retraced his route and went back into the city.

  He discovered away from the river and the dock area, the city was much more peaceful. The large buildings where the barge had landed gave way to a street on which Sam found a store, a twostory building with a sign that read Mary and Martha’s Boardinghouse, another whose sign read Saloon, a church and a livery.

  As he rode farther, there were three more streets lined with houses. Those nearest to the center of town were made of stone and logs, and resembled the cabin he and Nils had been building. Those structures on the outermost streets were made of wooden planks and were larger. As Sam rode along, the people he met either ignored him, or gave him an appraising look. At one point, two small dogs emerged from behind one of the dwellings, barking furiously. Wolf stopped, raised his hackles and gave a low, warning growl. The two would-be assailants stopped in their tracks, turned and ran whining with their tails between their legs. Wolf snorted his triumph, prancing in circles, his plumed tail curled over his back. Sam chuckled softly.

  Having finished his tour, Sam concluded the city was not as big as he had imagined when viewing it from the barge. He began to feel more relaxed and comfortable. The next order of business was to find somewhere to stay and a place to keep his horse and Wolf. He turned back to the main street of the small city.

  He stopped at the livery, dismounted, tied his horse to the hitching post, instructed Wolf to stand guard and went in.

  “Hello?” he called.

  “Hello,” came the reply in a heavy French accent.

  Out from behind a row of stalls came a tall, thin man. He was not particularly good looking, but had a pleasant face. He was chewing tobacco. When he smiled, his teeth testified to that fact.

  “Bonjour. Comment peux-je vous aider?” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” said Sam. “I don’t speak French.”

  The man smiled again. “I speak English. How may I help you?”

  “Yes,” Sam replied. “I just came from across the river. I need to find a place to stay and keep my horse. And I’d like to find work.”

  “There’s a boardinghouse in town, Mary and Martha’s. It’s very clean and they have a dining room for meals. Most people stay there until they find work. If they work for either the trading company or the lumber mill, they usually move to the workmen’s quarters. Those who work on the docks live at the boardinghouse or above the saloon.” He paused, and Sam nodded.

  “As for your horse, you’re welcome to keep it here. I have stalls and a pen for turning out. It would cost one dollar a week.”

  Sam looked around the establishment. He saw it was well ordered and smelled clean. “I think I’d like that. I have a dog as well,” he added.

  “Hmm, a dog. I don’t think Miss Mary would let you keep it there. If your employment turns out to be at either the post or the mill, and you go to live there, I know they wouldn’t let it stay.”

  Sam was concerned. There was no way he would be separated from Wolf. He was the last vestige of his life with Nils.

  The livery owner must have sensed his concern. “You’re fond of this animal, yes?”

  “Yes, he’s a very special partner. I wouldn’t want to have to give him up.”

  “Well, let me meet this special partner of yours. Perhaps it would work for him to stay here as well.”

  “He’s outside, guarding my horse and belongings,” Sam said, turning to walk toward the door. “I’m Sam Hawkins by the way.” He held out his hand to the man who walked beside him.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sam Hawkins. I’m Edouard Moreau.” He took Sam’s hand. The grip was firm and strong, attesting to the many hours of hard work attending to the needs of horses.

  The men continued outside. When Edouard saw Wolf, he made a whistling sound through his teeth. “Mon Deiu! What a magnificent animal.”

  Wolf still sat where Sam had ordered him. He looked from Sam to the stranger, as if waiting for a cue.

  “No one would dare to try to steal from you with this beast around. What do
you call him?”

  “Wolf,” said Sam. Then to Wolf he said, “It’s all right. Friend.”

  Wolf relaxed and stood, his plumed tail wagging, his eyes softening. Edouard cautiously took a step toward him.

  “You can pet him. He knows you’re a friend.”

  Edouard knelt, and Wolf came to him, burying his head in the man’s chest, accepting the attention with relish.

  “Would he obey me as he does you?” he asked Sam.

  “Of course,” Sam replied, “if I teach you his commands.”

  “This would be a good thing for me. I could have him guard the livery. I would not have you pay then to keep him here,” Edouard said enthusiastically, still stroking the dog’s head.

  The men walked back inside, Sam leading his horse, and Wolf following behind. Edouard showed him where to stall the horse and stow his tack.

  Sam took some time to acquaint Edouard with Wolf’s training. In a short time, Wolf was readily responding to Edouard’s commands. Wolf seemed to like the Frenchman, so Sam was pleased. This would work well, he thought. Making sure things were settled with Edouard, Sam instructed Wolf to remain behind, before making his way to the boardinghouse on foot.

  Upon entering the building, Sam immediately felt selfconscious. His limited experience with whites had not prepared him for an establishment such as this. He stood inside the doorway, looking around awkwardly.

  To his left he could see a small room with tables spread with white cloths and chairs. On each table stood a vase of flowers. In the other direction was a flight of stairs. There was carpet on the floor. In front of him was a counter. On the counter was yet another vase with flowers. He felt nonplussed. He was just about to turn around and leave when a portly, gray-haired lady came through the doors of the room with the tables.

  “Hello,” she said pleasantly. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sam replied, removing his hat and taking a step forward. “I’d like to stay here, if that’s all right?”

  She laughed softly. “Of course it is. Come right over here to the desk, and we’ll get you signed in.”