Treasury of American Indian Tales

by Theodore Whitson Ressler

Suddenly the leader of the Conestogas raised his hand, and the band of braves with him stopped running and listened. The chief explained that they had reached the border and could go no further. And so the score was equal. Black Hawk was proud of his father, for once again he had proved to his fellow braves that he was a wise man.

The hunting party slowed down a bit now and, after traveling about two miles, they camped for the night. They were tired and after a hasty supper they fell off to sleep one by one until all but the guards were sound asleep. Black Hawk was soon sound asleep as well, but Tall Hawk lay awake thinking.

Why did they not sight the deer before they reached the land of the Conestogas? Surely the scouts that had reported the deer herd to the village had not imagined seeing so many deer, or had they? And why had the chase taken them into Conestoga land? Over and over he asked himself these questions until he could not stay awake any longer and finally he was asleep with the rest of the party.

The next morning after breakfast the party continued on its trek, this time turning westward. Soon they came to a large lake and Tall Hawk divided the party, requesting some of them to remain here and fish and the others to continue on around the lake in search of game. Black Hawk was among those chosen to stay and fish and he was very happy about it. He saw that he was the only young brave allowed to stay with the fishing party and he felt it was because he was such a good fisherman.

When the hunting party had finally gone out of sight, Red Hand, the second in command, gathered the group and explained to them their mission. This lake should have plenty of fish, and so they would spend the next day and night here fishing and in the morning of the second day return to their village, as they hoped, with a successful catch of fish from the beautiful lake.

Red Hand led the way down the shore of the lake to where the last fishing party had hidden the canoes. Then, asking the party to team up in pairs, he slipped a pouch from his shoulder and gave out fishing equipment to each brave. When each one had received his equipment, Red Hand said, “We shall fish the lake for one day and we shall rest on shore for one night. On the dawn of the second day the hunting party will return and we shall all leave for our homes together. Let us pray that the gods will smile favorably upon us this day and that our catch will be a large one. Good luck to all of you, and may your lines be heavy with fish when you return.”

With these words ringing in their ears the Indians rushed to the canoes and pushed off into the quiet blue waters of this great lake. Black Hawk had chosen as his partner an older brave of the tribe by the name of Crooked Arrow. Perhaps it seemed strange that Black Hawk should choose his partner because he was so young, but Crooked Arrow very rarely spoke and many of the Indians of the tribe did not like him. Why they did not like him, Black Hawk did not know. He did know that Crooked Arrow was not very good-looking and that he was a little fatter than most of the other men of the tribe. But, aside from that, Black Hawk could see no reason for not liking him and so had asked him if he would be Black Hawk’s partner in the fishing trip.

Crooked Arrow had shaken his head and without saying a word had followed Black Hawk to the canoes and helped him lift one into the lake. The other braves had laughed at Black Hawk when they saw him choose Crooked Arrow as his partner, but Red Hand had motioned them to be quiet and stop making fun of the boy.

When the instructions had been given out and the equipment distributed among the braves, Black Hawk and Crooked Arrow stepped into their canoe and pushed away from the shore. They dipped their paddles softly into the lake and the canoe glided quietly across the waters.

Soon they had pulled away from the other canoe and Crooked Arrow who had taken the stern of the canoe, was steering the canoe for a point of land about a half a mile down the lake shore. Black Hawk turned to him and asked, “Why do you steer for that part of the lake, Crooked Arrow? I should think that that section of lake over to the eastward would be better.”