Beyond the Quiet Hills

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Beyond the Quiet Hills Page 22

by Aaron McCarver


  Hawk watched the boy go and said, “He sure is like his father. I wish you could have known him, Jacob. He was a fine man.”

  Overhead, sturdy clouds were beginning to gather. The tops were pure white, but underneath they were streaked with dirty gray, and Hawk observed, “I think we’re going to get some rain out of those clouds. The crops could use it.” When he got no response he felt awkward, and finally he said, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the party, son.” Jacob did not answer, and Hawk found himself having a difficult time forming what he wanted to say. He was basically a man of few words, but he longed to break through the shell that Jacob had built around himself. He turned and said, “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how proud I am of you for the way you stood up for Amanda.”

  A sudden touch of joy came to Jacob Spencer then. He wanted his father’s approval more than he would admit to himself, and now he basked for a moment in the compliment before saying, “It was nothing.”

  “Yes, it was something,” Hawk said at once. He stepped forward and put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, noting that the muscles were growing and that the boy was taller than he had been when they had left Williamsburg. “I want you to know that I’m mighty glad to have a son willing to stand for somebody who needs help.” He would have said more, but at that time Andrew came back with a bucket of water and a dipper and he ended the conversation.

  As they went back to work after their drink, Jacob thought, Things have changed between me and Pa since I came here. It’s getting better. At the same time as this thought warmed him, he was aware that he was still not able to totally accept Hawk Spencer as a father. However, he was beginning to think of him as a friend, and now the thought came to him, He’s a good man now, even if he wasn’t all the time I was growing up. Maybe someday I’ll be able to forget all the old memories about how he left me. The thought cheered him, and he began to whistle cheerfully and moved faster to catch up with Andrew, who decided to make a race of it.

  Hawk watched as the two boys worked down the rows, raising a cloud of dust, while overhead the clouds grew darker. Soon it began to sprinkle, and at the first drop Hawk said, “Let’s get in out of this rain, boys.”

  ****

  At dinner that evening, Elizabeth listened as Jacob described how he had crept up on a buck and shot it. It was his first deer kill all by himself, and he had been inordinately proud to bring that doe home and dress it himself. When he had finished telling the story, she smiled and said, “That was real good, Jacob. You’ve become quite a hunter.”

  “Sure have,” Hawk said. “Couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t taught me, Pa. You and Sequatchie.”

  “We all have to learn. Sequatchie taught me the same things. Why, I couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn when he first got ahold of me,” Hawk smiled. He leaned back in his chair and thought of those days when Sequatchie had saved his life and then promised to teach him the ways of the forest if he would stay and read the Bible to his people. Best day’s work I ever did, Hawk thought as he looked around the table studying his family. If I hadn’t met up with Sequatchie, I wouldn’t have all this now.

  As she fed Hannah, Elizabeth said, “Sequatchie is eating with Iris and Amanda tonight.”

  “Yes,” Hawk nodded. “He’s really looked out for those two.” Glancing at the boys, he grinned and said, “He’s so busy with them, some of the work is piling up. I think we’ll all have to pick up the slack when Sequatchie goes with Paul and Rhoda on their next trip.”

  Sarah perked up and said, “When are they leaving, Pa?”

  “I’m not sure. It won’t be long, though.”

  “No, it won’t,” Elizabeth said, and a strange expression came to her eyes, and her lips turned upward in a smile. “They won’t be gone long this trip.”

  Surprised, Hawk looked up. “Why do you say that? They usually stay for months.”

  “Not this time.”

  Now Elizabeth had everyone’s attention, and Hawk looked at her and said, “What’s in that head of yours, wife?”

  “I suppose,” Elizabeth said after pausing, “it’s all right to tell you.” She smiled broadly then and clasped her hands together and squeezed them. “Paul and Rhoda are going to have a baby, and Paul wants to get back before Rhoda’s too far along.”

  “Well, how about that!” Hawk exclaimed.

  “They’re so happy,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll have to pray that the baby comes and that Rhoda will be all right.”

  For some time talk ran around the table, mostly about the baby that was coming, and Paul and Rhoda. Finally Elizabeth spoke up and said, “I have some more news for you.”

  “What’s that?” Hawk asked. He had half risen and now sat back down in his chair. He studied Elizabeth’s face, admiring again, as he always did, the fair complexion and the lively green eyes that decorated her heart-shaped face. “What’s going on that I don’t know about?”

  Elizabeth said quietly, “We’re going to have a baby, too.”

  For a moment there was another silence, then Hawk Spencer let out a whoop. Jumping from his chair, he ran over, pulled Elizabeth to her feet, and began to dance her around the room. He hugged her so tightly she gasped, “Hawk, you’re going to squeeze me to death!”

  “I’d like to almost,” Hawk said. “When will it be here?”

  “I hope it’s another girl,” Sarah chimed in.

  “No, I want a brother this time!” Andrew protested.

  “No!” Sarah said, reaching over and striking him with her fist. “It’s time for another girl. That way there’ll be three girls and two boys.”

  Hawk said with calmness in his eyes as he looked at Elizabeth, “I don’t care what it is. I just hope it looks like you, boy or girl, and not me.”

  No one seemed to notice that Jacob had grown quiet. The news of an oncoming baby had stirred something in him again, and he did not understand it. Thoughts would arise in him from time to time that he seemed to have no control over, and now he was thinking, Pa wants another son—one that will be like Andrew. He looked at Elizabeth, whose face was filled with joy, and then the thought came quickly, At least this baby won’t be abandoned like I was. For a moment he felt ashamed for thinking that. He realized all that Hawk had tried to do to make him feel at home.

  He was, however, caught by emotions that were too strong for him, and finally he slipped out of the cabin and walked for a long time through the woods, oblivious to the rain that was still falling lightly. It ran down his hair and down his back and soaked his clothes. Suddenly he looked up with a start, realizing what he was doing. He turned slowly and headed back for the cabin, thinking, I wish I could get my head straight. Why do I have thoughts like this? Why can’t I be happy like Andrew is?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Celebration With the Cherokee

  Hawk leaned over and picked up Joshua Spencer. The sight of the three-month-old made him smile, as always. “You’re going to be a handsome man, just like your pa,” he whispered. Joshua had been born in late January. Hawk had had to help with the delivery because Deborah Stevens had trouble getting to their cabin through the snow. Everything had gone fine and Hawk exulted in this new son of his.

  Iris Taylor, who had come in to help Elizabeth get the children ready, smiled. “It’s amazing how much that child has grown. I believe he’ll be as big a man as you are, Hawk.”

  “I hope he’ll be smarter,” Hawk said. He cradled the baby in his arms for a while, listening as the women in the kitchen were running around trying to get the food ready to go. Finally, putting the baby down, he passed through the kitchen as they discussed the upcoming day of celebration and talked about seeing friends who had not been in the settlement for some time.

  Stepping outside the door, he found Sequatchie, Andrew, and Jacob, who had hitched up the wagon and saddled the horses. “All ready?” he asked.

  “Sure, Pa,” Andrew said. His hair
was wet from where he had stuck it under the pump, and now he stroked his horse on the neck, saying, “Are you going to enter the race, Pa?”

  “No, I’ll leave that to you young fellows.”

  Jacob was already seated on Molly. He leaned over and patted her on the neck, winking at Sequatchie. “How much have you got bet on me, Sequatchie?”

  “I never bet on horse races,” Sequatchie said. “It’s a foolish thing.”

  “Wouldn’t be foolish to bet on me,” Jacob bragged. “I plan on winning.”

  Sequatchie shot a look at Andrew, who said nothing, but whose face was marked with quiet determination.

  Soon the women came out, and all the food was loaded in the wagon. Hawk lifted Hannah up to Elizabeth, who took her, then held young Joshua as Iris climbed in the wagon.

  As they pulled out, Andrew said, “I hope things go well today. It means a lot to the Indians.”

  “It means a lot to us, too,” Hawk nodded. “We’ll just pray that it does.”

  ****

  Zeke Taylor tilted the brown bottle and drank several swallows. He lowered it and coughed violently, and his face turned a raw red hue. He expelled air and gasped for his breath, saying in a coarse whisper, “That stuff’s got a kick like a mule.”

  “Ahh, you ain’t no man, Zeke!” William Isaac Crabtree tipped the bottle, sipped at it, and blinked his eyes. “Come to think of it, it has got a bite.”

  The two men were deep in the woods, where they had spent the night. Both of them were dirty and ragged, and they had not shaved in weeks. After Zeke had escaped from jail last summer, with Crabtree’s help, they had fled the settlement and gone on an extended trip. Their money had played out, however, and now they had drifted back toward the Watauga settlement.

  Crabtree was shaking his head in disgust. “Can’t believe them people wantin’ to be friends with a bunch of Indians! Only good Indians are the dead ones!”

  Zeke sipped cautiously at the fiery alcohol again and then nodded, anger clouding his muddy eyes. “It’s that Hawk Spencer and his kind that’s done it! Can’t mind their own business! They got to be in everybody else’s!”

  The two men drank until the whiskey was gone. By that time Crabtree had turned mean. “It wouldn’t take much for me to go break up that celebration today!”

  Zeke Taylor suddenly looked up. He was not as drunk as Crabtree, and now an idea had come to him. It lit his brown eyes, and he studied Crabtree carefully, at the same time egging the man on about the celebration. His talk began to get rougher and more urgent until finally Crabtree kicked at a sapling. With a curse, he said, “I’m goin’ to go to that place! Sycamore Shoals, ain’t it?”

  “That’s right, but you know Hawk will be there.”

  “I don’t care who’s there! I’m gonna kill me an Indian!”

  Crabtree’s threat shocked Zeke Taylor, but he was pleased with it. Both men were drunk enough so that their caution was lowered, and Zeke was thinking of how Hawk had humiliated him.

  If a war starts, he thought, some men are gonna get killed. And even if Hawk Spencer ain’t killed by an Indian, it would be easy to shoot him from behind a tree and make it look like an Indian did it. He felt big and brave as the whiskey blotted out his natural cowardice, and he said, “Come on! Let’s go help ’em celebrate!”

  “Celebrate nothing! I’m gonna kill me an Indian!” Crabtree slurred.

  ****

  The celebration at Sycamore Shoals was in full swing. The settlers had come, all who could, including the Spencers and MacNeals, the Stevenses, the Baxters, the Fosters, the Taylors, and Sequatchie, of course. Paul and Rhoda Anderson were also there, showing off their two-and-a-half-month-old daughter, Rachel.

  The leaders of the settlement were there, including William and Lydia Bean, who had founded Watauga, James and Charlotte Robertson, members of the Regulators, and John Carter, who had founded a settlement in Carter Valley and was now chairman of the Watauga court.

  As Hawk ran his eyes around the crowd that was eating and drinking and laughing loudly, he noted Jacob Brown, who had founded the settlement at Nolichucky, and the Sevier brothers, John and Valentine, along with Charles Robertson, and James Smith, the clerk of the association. Turning his eyes, he saw that Daniel Boone had attended with Chief Attacullaculla, the Little Carpenter. Along with the Little Carpenter was Chief Ostenaco and Chief Oconostota.

  “Are you having a good time, Billie?” Hawk asked, stopping beside a tall Cherokee.

  Cherokee Billie, who was the brother-in-law of Ostenaco, grinned at him. “Good time. Plenty of good food.”

  Slapping the tall young brave on the shoulder, Hawk left and passed through the crowd. He spoke to William Bean and also to Bean’s young son, Russell, who was the first white child born in the settlement. He passed among the crowd and finally glanced over to where the women had congregated to serve the food. They were all working hard, for an enormous number of Cherokee had come. I guess I ought to go help ’em, Hawk thought. When he went over, Elizabeth said, “You just stay out of our way, Hawk.”

  Sweat was running down her face, and he reached over and wiped it off, saying, “You sure get fussy when you’re cooking for a celebration.” He grinned and left her then. Hearing a sound of cheering, he moved over to where he found some of the men talking about the afternoon horse race. He saw that Andrew, Jacob, and Sarah were there, along with Abigail, Amanda, Joseph and Helen Foster, and Philip Baxter. He stood back and listened to Jacob talk about how he would win the race, then moved away.

  He came to where Sequatchie was talking with the Little Carpenter and the chief’s niece, Nancy Ward. Nancy was married to a white man, Bryant Ward, and her face was strained as Hawk heard her say, “It’s going to be hard, Sequatchie. Dragging Canoe is all for war.”

  “He always has been,” Sequatchie said. “He’s a man of blood.”

  The Little Carpenter spread his hands out. He was a small man, not at all impressive, and yet his ability to bring people together and work out terms was phenomenal. “We will have to be sure that he does not shed blood. The old ways are changing.”

  “I know,” Nancy said. She was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “I hate to see them go, but we must change with them.”

  “Yes,” Sequatchie agreed, “or the Cherokee will cease to be a people. The white men are like a mighty river coming in, and we must learn to live with them or we will perish.”

  When the time for the meal came, John Carter, as chairman of the Watauga Court, called them all together.

  “We welcome you, Chief Attacullaculla, as the representative of all the Cherokee. You and your people are welcome!”

  The Little Carpenter responded, and then Paul Anderson rose to ask a blessing on the meal. He had become highly respected—respected by most of the Cherokee, except the warmongers. He had traveled for the last two years in the very heart of Cherokee country, living among them, and had won many to the Lord during that time. He showed respect for their way of life, while at the same time showing them their need for a Savior. He ended the blessing by saying, “May the Lord bless us, Cherokee and white men alike. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”

  ****

  Finally the meal was over, and it was time for the horse races. Jacob came up to Abigail and was laughing. He was happy and confident that he would win the race. His Molly had never failed him, and now he said, “Give me a token, Abigail, to take into the race.”

  “A token? What’s that?”

  “Why, back in the days when the knights were around, they would ask a lady for a token. She would give her knight a scarf, and he would tie it on his lance, wear it while he went jousting.”

  Abigail smiled and reached into her pocket and gave him a handkerchief. “I hope this will help.”

  “I can’t lose,” Jacob grinned. “I’ll be back to claim my reward.”

  There were seven horses in the race, and all of them were good ones. George Stevens started the race by firing a gun in the air, and lo
ud shouts went up as the horses all lunged forward.

  Jacob leaned over, talking to his mare with excitement. He led the race all the way to the sycamore tree, which had been set as a halfway mark, and rounded it in the lead.

  Halfway back, however, he caught a glimpse of someone to his right. He took his glance off of the finish line long enough to turn his head and saw that it was Andrew!

  Andrew had ridden a good race. He had let Molly keep the lead, wearing herself out, and now with the finish line no more than two hundred yards ahead, he kicked his horse in the side and let out a wild yell. The yell startled Molly, and she jerked off stride as she bolted in fright.

  By the time Jacob had gotten her under control, Andrew had crossed the finish line and was surrounded by the crowd who had closed in to congratulate him.

  His face burning, Jacob slid off the horse and stood there thinking, It wasn’t fair! That shout he gave threw you off stride!

  Andrew received the reward from Abigail, a kiss on the cheek, which Jacob saw. He turned to go away, but suddenly Hawk was in front of him. “You rode a good race, son.”

  Jacob looked up quickly, for he was suspicious that Hawk was exulting over Andrew’s win.

  “I lost, and that’s all that counts.”

  Turning abruptly away, he led Molly off to tie her to a sapling. When he turned around, he saw Amanda, who had come up. She was smiling and said, “You did fine, Jacob.”

  “No. I lost.”

  Amanda said, “In my mind you’ll always be a winner, Jacob, no matter what anyone says.”

  Jacob suddenly felt better. He shrugged and said, “I’ll have to learn to swallow my medicine with less fuss.”

  “Come on. Let’s go watch the next race. The Cherokee are going to have one.”

  Jacob agreed and the two of them walked over to where a group of Cherokee were mounted and ready to begin the race. Cherokee Billie was one of them that Jacob knew, and he said, “Good luck, Billie!”

  Billie looked around and waved his hand and then gathered the halter of his horse. The Indians had trouble getting their horses to be still, and just when they were in a roughly irregular line, a sudden shot came and Billie fell off his horse.

 

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