The Black Stone

By Dana Hollister

Jim and Christine had an extraordinary adventure in the canyons of southern Utah. They discovered where the Ancient Ones had disappeared to; they had found where they went. In this second book in the series, I Know Where They Went, The Black Stone, the journey continues. Jim and Christine have been anxious to return to the Cheeka Village. Having a family and raising their children had put a temporary hold on travel.
Once again they were to be called upon. It was time, ready or not, to return to the village. It would be just as much fun as their first visit. They would get to experience it all over again through the eyes of their children, and in the process, help the man known as Hawk, the leader of the lost people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dana Hollister
• Release date: Feb 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310806827

Dana Hollister

The Window, of the series, I Know Where They Went, is Dana Hollister’s first novel. He has been published in rock and ice climbing magazines, guide books and aviation magazines. Dana’s first book was a river runner’s guide to the Salt River in Arizona, in the mid 80s. He lives in the Phoenix area with his wife Cindy. Most of their time is spent traveling in their motor home always looking for another adventure. Dana is also a musician and released a cd in 2010. The inspiration for this series comes from spending countless days and nights with his wife roaming southern Utah.

Book preview

The

Black Stone

Book two of the series

I Know Where They Went

***

Published by Dana Hollister

Smashwords Edition 2014

Copyright 2014 Dana Hollister

danahollisterbooks.com

This book is available in print and audio.

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, the Indian tribes, places and incidents

are either products of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

Cover and inside chapter photographs and design by

Dana and Cindy Hollister

Photograph Chapter Four and Twenty Seven Perry Pahlmeyer

Exception Photograph Chapter Twenty

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

***

Dedicated to

Our long walks

Our secret places

And

The imagination

Special thanks to

Karen Mills

My editor and dear friend

***

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Island In The Sky

Chapter 2 Four Dreams

Chapter 3 Planning A Vacation

Chapter 4 The Surprise

Chapter 5 The Window

Chapter 6 The New World

Chapter 7 Grandpa Hawk

Chapter 8 Unexpected Departure

Chapter 9 The Chatan Village

Chapter 10 The Good News

Chapter 11 Culture Shock

Chapter 12 The Invitation

Chapter 13 Hawk’s Return

Chapter 14 Lazy Days

Chapter 15 The Missing Key

Chapter 16 The Black Stone

Chapter 17 The Chutes

Chapter 18 The Archeologist

Chapter 19 An Archeologist Dream

Chapter 20 Cave 7

Chapter 21 The Chamber

Chapter 22 Returning The Black Stone

Chapter 23 The Search

Chapter 24 Finding Atewa

Chapter 25 Back To The Village

Chapter 26 Legend Of Tawkaw

Chapter 27 Ten Moons

***

Chapter 1

Island In The Sky

Atewa woke up and moved away from Star quietly, so as not to wake her. He went to the main room and threw a couple of logs on the fire, to begin to warm up their small lodge. He then went to the door and pulled back the heavy blanket. It had been hung there to fend off the morning chill from creeping in. He looked down to see if there was a fire at the runway yet. There was one small glow, down below the village. The Tokalas were gathering, getting ready for the hunt.

Atewa picked up the bundle of clothing that Star had laid next to the fire the night before. He dressed in his warm flight suit that the Tokala families had made for him and went back into the bedroom, stooping down next to Star. She rolled over, hearing him.

I will see you tomorrow, Atewa said as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Be careful, Star said in a sleepy voice, touching his cheek with her warm hand.

Atewa momentarily held her hand against his face with his, kissing her smooth skin gently.

I will, he whispered.

He got up, went back out to the main room, and ducked through another door, into the other bedroom. The children slept soundly, wrapped in their blankets.

Atewa smiled and said in a quiet voice, Tomorrow. Then he left the room.

He made his way from the top of the cliff dwelling, down through the village, to the runway. It was quiet, cold, and dark. Not many, if any, were awake yet. The village was sleeping. When he got to the air strip three torches burned on each side of the field now. The planes were ready and waiting, as were the men who would pilot them.

Good morning, Atewa said as he approached the fire where twelve men sat, huddled to keep warm.

The Tokalas all nodded, and a few of them returned the ‘Good morning,’ some with only a grunt or a nod.

The men finished their warm cups of strong tea together; then they headed for their planes, that could barely be seen in the darkness.

Once on board, Tulac’s voice broke the silence, and they all pumped with their feet, bringing up the air pressure that would be needed for the props to begin spinning. When they were all ready, each pilot responded with one word. Tulac again called out. All the pilots released a lever by their side. There were a few bumps as the Avas picked up speed fast, rolling across the uneven ground. They all gently pulled back on their stick at the same time. The planes lifted gracefully and silently, as one, into the dark sky.

The Tokalas often left just before dawn when they went on a hunt. By the time they needed to take a break there would be just enough light to see to land their little planes. Every week they would depart for a day or two of hunting for the village. This was the role of the Tokalas; they were the hunters, pilots, and messengers. They were also the guardians for the village. If need be, they could be called upon to enforce the laws of the land. However, it had been decades since that had been necessary. Even then, it had never been of a serious nature, at least not in this village.

The planes sped along quietly in the twilight in a tight formation. Tulac saw to it that the group maintained a certain amount of cohesion. He was the unspoken leader of the Tokalas. He had always been followed with a great deal of respect. It was a position that he was not chosen for or elected to. It was one he had earned.

This was always the best part of the week for them. Something they all looked forward to. First and foremost, they loved to fly. They were born for it. It was their passion. When they were en route, it was always quiet. No one ever spoke. It was a time of peace and reflection. Their planes, the Avas, flew nearly silent, once they were at their cruising altitude. Only the breeze could be heard as the wings separated the cold air.

This morning was a little different, in that Tulac, Atewa's best friend, was worried about Atewa. He had not been himself lately. Hawk, Atewa's father, had not been feeling well. Tulac knew that this weighed heavily on his friend, and he was concerned for him.

Tulac had taught Atewa how to fly when he was young. He was always hanging around the airplanes, hopeful for a chance to go up. Soon Atewa was in the sky, while other kids went to play. Then he started going out with the Tokalas, occasionally, when they hunted.

It was not long until the two men were like brothers. Since Atewa was Hawk's son, and Hawk was the leader, one might have thought Tulac was sucking up. But anyone that knew Atewa knew he had gained every bit of respect from his hard work and dedication. He did not ride on his father’s coattails. He was a gifted pilot, a natural, and a good hunter. Atewa was big, strong, and bold. He fit right in with this tough crowd. There were not any what you might call 'panty-waists' in this bunch.

Hours later the Tokalas were at their destination. They scouted and hunted. It was a rewarding day, surprisingly so. By afternoon the planes were full of fresh meat. Everyone could return home tonight. No one needed to remain out for another day; their job was done.

As they prepared to leave, Atewa loaded some firewood onto the wings of his plane. He then cut a fresh hunk of meat and wrapped it in leather, stowing it away as well. He checked the Ava carefully, running his hand over every inch of the flying machine.

So you will stay out tonight? Tulac asked, as he walked up to his friend.

Yes, Tulac. I am going to the Valley of Spires. I need to think. I would like to be alone, Atewa said.

I know you too well, my friend. You are troubled and will go to the Valley to try to land on the Island, Tulac said.

Is it true, that if you stand on the stone, you will see answers? Atewa asked, sitting down in the front seat of his plane, repeating the legend that they all knew well.

How can we know? No one has ever stood on the stone, Tulac said.

Tulac returned to his plane, and the pilots readied for take off.

Atewa departed with the rest of the Tokalas. After they had climbed high, he broke out of the formation, heading for the infamous Valley of Spires.

~~~~

As Atewa neared the valley, the sun was getting low. He flew around the spires, playing with the little plane in the process. He banked sharply, this way, then that, as he flew around the pinnacles, inspecting each one as he did so. The wind was in his favor, he noticed, as he neared the great monolith of rock that they all called The Island.

Atewa dove out of the sky, landing below the huge pinnacle of stone. As he walked around the plane, he tried to come up with a plan. Suddenly he had an idea and went to work on it immediately. He took out two short ropes from a pack and tied one under each wing, letting them hang down. Crawling out from under the plane, he said to no one, Are you ready? He looked up, in awe, at the rock.

I think there is a reason the wind is always here, Atewa said to himself, climbing on board.

Atewa took off, and circled the summit of the sandstone spire. The top was about fifty feet long, and maybe, fifteen feet wide. There was a crack in the center. It ran from one side to the other. The summit was just big enough to set a plane down on, but too small to take off from. There was not a single pilot that didn't dream of landing on it. But so far, no one had been brave enough to commit to it, or as some might say, dumb enough to.

After several swings around the spire, Atewa had the wind figured out and approached the spire accordingly. Everything was coming together perfectly. Cautiously he settled in, slowing the plane dangerously near its stall speed. The controls were getting mushy, non-responsive. If he were to go much slower, the plane would not be able to fly any longer and fall out of the sky. The wind had been helping more than hurting. With the wind he had airspeed, but his ground speed was nearly nonexistent. It felt as though he was barely moving because he wasn’t. He was almost hovering in place.

Hanging just above the spire, Atewa brought the nose higher slowly. The plane suddenly quit flying and set down on the tiny summit with a bump.

Now what? Atewa yelled out loud, excited.

Atewa couldn't believe he had just landed the Ava on the spire. He did not know what to say or do. As he sat there, the plane would bounce a little with every gust of wind. Atewa stayed focused and concentrated, reacting to every hit of the turbulent air with the controls, trying to keep the plane from flying, or more correctly, from blowing off. Finally he decided he needed to act. He jumped out of his seat, and as quickly as he could, grabbed two big sticks from the firewood pouch. Diving under the Ava, he shoved them in the crack, under the wings. Franticly he tied the ropes from the Ava to the sticks he had wedged into the crack.

He was relieved as he crawled from out from under the plane. Standing up, taking in the view, it was suddenly real, very real. He was on the top of the world, alone.

After a brief moment, he continued to secure his plane. He unrolled a cloth and attached it to the leading edge of both wings, and connected it under the plane. This served two purposes. The first thing it helped with was to make the wings so they couldn't fly. They no longer had the shape of a wing. The second, it also provided shelter when there was none available. Atewa did this for the first reason. Shelter would be unnecessary on this clear evening. It would be a starlit night.

After he was all set up, and everything was secured, Atewa walked around the top of the spire.

Wow, Atewa said, out loud.

The spire itself was six hundred feet high, straight down on all sides. The slope up to the cliff, from the desert floor, was another six hundred feet or so. He stood there over one thousand feet above the valley below, a place where no man had ever set foot.

Atewa sat down on the edge of the cliff, feet dangling off the side, and watched the sunset. The wind was finally dying down. It was dead calm as the night fell.

Just before it got too dark, he unpacked the wood he had collected off the wings and made a small fire to cook some supper and warm some tea. It was an evening of a lifetime.

~~~~

When the moon came up, Atewa greeted it with a smile. He thought of his mother and father, his wife and children. What would he do without his dad? He desperately wanted an answer. Could he be of help to Hawk? Or was it his time? Would he be able to lead the Cheeka people without Hawk? Hawk was known as a great man. How could he possibly fill his father’s shoes?

Atewa watched the moon climb high as the night wore on. He was completely comfortable lying on top of his perch, high above the desert floor. Slowly he drifted off to sleep and began dreaming.

Suddenly he found himself standing up. He turned slowly in a circle looking into the night, confused. Then he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. He was hoping that the legend of the Island in the Sky would be true. He wanted desperately to see the answers that he was looking for. A moment later, opening his eyes slowly, he saw his wife Star next to him. She took his hand in hers. Then something happened that he had not thought of or expected.

Star said, Jim and Christine. Atewa, call for them.

Atewa squeezed Star's hand, and they took a few steps to the lip of the spire. As they looked into night sky, Jim and Christine began to appear. They were sleeping soundly. Star reached out and touched Christine's shoulder. Christine woke and sat up quickly. She looked at them, concerned.

Are you okay? What’s wrong? Christine asked, startled to see them, but somehow she felt unafraid.

Atewa spoke, Yes, we are okay, but my father may need your help. Please come.

Jim slowly sat up, the conversation waking him. He smiled when he saw Atewa and Star.

What is it, my friend? he asked.

Can you help us? Atewa said.

Without hesitation Jim answered, We will be there as soon as we can.

Jim and Christine’s image began to fade away. Atewa and Star tried reaching for them, but they vanished. Star suddenly pointed at two sleeping children. That must be Star, Star said.

And they have a son, Atewa said.

Let’s not wake them, Star whispered.

Grandpa Hawk needs your help. We will see you soon, Atewa said under his breath.

Atewa woke up with a start; he was immediately awake and alert. That was it, he thought, Jim and Christine. The Old World has powerful medicine. He needed to be sure he got his message through, but how? Did he really speak to Jim and Christine, or was it just a dream?

Eventually he fell back to sleep. As he did so he was thinking about the Traveler. He desperately needed to speak with him and share his dream.

The Traveler was a father figure not just to Atewa, but to all people in the New World. He was the caretaker, so-to-speak. He roamed across the land, lending a hand to anyone in need. His advice was respected and often sought after. The Traveler had a gentle personality. He possessed a gift for guiding people, without a strong arm. A look from his eyes could settle every storm. When the Traveler showed up in a village, the people would celebrate his arrival. He knew everyone and never forgot a single name. The Traveler was everyone’s grandfather.

Atewa!

Atewa rolled over and saw the Traveler sitting by his smoldering fire.

Are you on your way, Traveler?

Yes, I will be there soon. You have picked a beautiful place to rest this night, the Traveler said, standing up, looking around. Jim and Christine are on their way. I will see you soon.

Atewa was still sleeping soundly but now had a grin on his face.

~~~~

When the sun was about to rise, Atewa woke up. As he came out of his sleep, he remembered talking to Jim, Christine, and the Traveler. They will be here soon, he said to himself, smiling and hoping his words were true.

After a relaxing breakfast, Atewa started getting things packed up and put back on the plane. The wind was returning, and he needed it badly this morning. Atewa knew that he should not try to leave until the wind was strong enough and coming from the right direction. If he attempted to just roll off the spire, without enough speed, the tail of the plane would most likely clip the edge of the cliff as it went over. There was a good chance it would damage or tear it off completely. So he needed to wait for the wind to come up to lift off safely.

Atewa waited into the late morning before the breeze really started to come back. He took the time, while he waited, to figure out how to release the plane from the rock when he was ready. If he didn't keep it tied down, it might blow away. On the other hand, he needed to cut the bond to take off, but he had to be in the Ava ready to go. He decided to run two lines, one from each of the anchors in the crack that he had placed the day before, and tie them at his waist. He also thought it may be a good idea to tie himself to the seat, just in case things got out of control during take off. If nothing else it gave him something else to do while he lingered on the tiny summit.

Atewa was wearing a necklace that his father had given him. He decided to leave this valuable possession on the tiny summit. He put another stick in the crack and draped the necklace over the top of the limb. It would mark his passage and honor his father.

Finally, Atewa got into position; everything was set. The wind seemed to be picking up, like it always did in this valley. Feathers hung from the upper wing of the plane. Atewa was watching them to see which direction the wind was coming from. He needed it to come right at the front of him, but so far, it was not cooperating. His craft started to rock back and forth. He was hoping and praying for the direction of the wind to change. He would be stranded until it did, indefinitely.

Off into the distance Atewa could see small specks appear on the skyline. The Tokalas were coming to check on him. Tulac knew where he had gone, but Atewa was sure they would be blown away when they saw where he had camped the night before. He also hoped he could take off before they got there, it would be embarrassing if he couldn't. Not to mention, possibly life threatening to be stuck there.

The Tokalas’ planes drifted into the valley slowly, staying low to the ground, keeping their eyes peeled for Atewa. They would circle up a spire then move to the bottom of the next one. Atewa waited patiently, not for his friends, but for the wind.

Finally two Tokalas were winding their way up Atewa’s spire, the Island, and suddenly, when they reached the top, Atewa appeared right next to them. They about wet their pants when Atewa hollered loud. The Tokalas’ Avas suddenly banked sharply away. Atewa laughed at his friends.

Once they all realized what had taken place, all the planes swung in close, one at a time, to give a cheer. Then they circled to watch the show. No one could believe what they were seeing.

Finally, Atewa could see Tulac approaching. He knew he was in trouble. Tulac slowed his plane, bringing the nose high right next to Atewa and said, Atewa. Then he shook his head and banked away.

Atewa could feel the plane buffeting now. The rope across his waist was getting tight, and uncomfortable, as the plane tried to lift. Soon he would have to let it go, or be cut in half. His plan was to release the knot, add power at the same time, and hopefully float up. If the wind was just right, he wouldn't need to roll much at all, if any. That was what he was hoping for anyway.

It was time. The feathers hung straight out, and his hair was being blow away from his face. Atewa started the prop spinning, but they were feathered, so there was no forward thrust. He was waiting for the right moment to engage them, the right time to let them bite into the air and pull him into the sky.

Now, Atewa suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs.

He pulled the knot loose as the blades bit into the wind. It pulled him forward, and he climbed so fast, it caught him by surprise. The breeze that hit the spire was deflected straight up the face, and as soon as the plane cleared the lip, it shot him up at an alarming rate of speed. Nose high, the plane hung on the prop for a long moment as it ran out of enough power to pull any more. Atewa knew what would happen next, and it did. Suddenly the plane rolled to the right, and the nose dropped. The Ava fell into a dive. There was nothing he could do for a few seconds. Without airspeed he had no control. He hoped he would not slam into the top of the spire on the way back down.

The Ava picked up speed fast, and Atewa responded, finally having some control. He pulled away from the pinnacle in just the nick of time, barely missing it. He watched the face of the cliff rushing by, as the nose of the plane was pointed straight down, moving faster and faster with each passing second. He was only a few feet away from the stone and hoped he would not hit it.

Finally having more control, he started to turn and pull up, hoping to bring the plane out of the dive and move away from the face of rock. He had to be gentle in doing so, or he might rip the wings off in the process.

Easy now, he kept saying over and over, out loud.

He was not going to make it in the gradual pull back he was maintaining. The ground was speeding his way. With no other choice, he pulled back harder on the controls. It took all he had, and then some. Every muscle was tense and bulging, as he fought to bring the plane out of the dive. He was sure the plane would start breaking up any second.

Come on, Ava. Come on. Just a little more, he whispered.

The g-force was really pulling him down into his seat now. Not a moment too soon, Atewa finally saw the horizon at last, and let the plane fly without his input. He was only ten to twenty feet above the ground when the Ava finally came out of the dive. He was moving faster than he ever had in the plane. He let the airspeed bleed off, and as it did, he took his first breath.

Tulac flew up next to him, cheering his friend's accomplishment.

All the planes settled to earth nearby and celebrated the landing on the spire. As with any story, it would get wilder every time it was told. However, the truth was, there was no way it could be told wilder than it had felt.

~~~~

The Tokalas flew back to the village at a leisurely pace. The mood was a happy one, festive. The pilots were excited for Atewa. They could not wait to tell the tale in a dance.

Back at the village Star was waiting for the Tokalas to return. They had all come home the night before, except Atewa, and she was worried. Not so much that he had gone off alone, which was something he did from time to time, but she had a dream the night before, and that had scared her. If the dream was true, he was in big trouble.

As the planes touched down, Star was already at the runway. Atewa and Tulac knew what that meant. All the other pilots took off, spreading the news of Atewa’s flight. Star walked up to Atewa’s plane, her hands on her hips.

Tell me it isn’t true, she said.

Atewa did not answer.

Tulac got off his plane and started heading for the village.

Tulac, get back here! Star said in a demanding voice. She was more than just insistent.

Tulac walked up next to her with his tail between his legs.

You are the leader of the Tokalas. Why would you permit such a thing? Star was addressing Tulac. Tulac knew she had a point.

Atewa spoke before Tulac found the words, Star, Tulac is not to be blamed. I was looking for an answer. I am the one that will take responsibility.

The two of you know that there was a chance that Atewa might not have ever come home! Then what would I do? What would this village do? Star let her words hang for a moment. Atewa, Tulac, that will never happen again. She turned and started walking off, shaking her head.

Atewa and Tulac waited until she had gotten out of ear shot, then Tulac said, Just like you to get me in trouble for something you did.

The two of them began laughing quietly.

I will take care of it, Tulac. Atewa said, patting Tulac on the back.

You better! Tulac said, walking away.

~~~~

That night the Tokalas danced a new dance, telling the tale of the landing on the Island in the sky. It was not a big celebration, but most of the village showed up, if for no other reason, to have a little Yachi.

Tulac made up with Star by promising her that Atewa would never, ever, land on the spire again. Atewa, on the other hand, was in the proverbial dog house.

The dancing stopped suddenly. The crowd fell silent. Atewa stood up, turning to look for the cause of the reaction. The people moved back away from him. Finally he saw the Traveler approaching.

Hello, Atewa, he said.

The Traveler stopped, addressing Star, giving her a hug. How is Hawk? he asked.

He is very tired tonight. How about you go cheer him up? Star said smiling brightly as she finished speaking.

Atewa motioned for the Traveler to pass him.

Traveler, Star called out to him.

The Traveler paused looking back at Star.

Star continued. Keep an eye on Atewa. He needs to be supervised. All of the time.

The Traveler laughed as he walked by Atewa, and said under his breath, You must learn to keep your dreams to yourself, Atewa.

Two Months Earlier

Hawk was sitting on his balcony. It was the middle of the night. Once again, he could not sleep. He had had an agonizing day with his son Atewa. He sat there in front of the small fire, with two small torches by his side. A small bowl of black dye was sitting on a flat rock next to him. He dipped the quill of a feather into the dye and continued making marks on the paper.

It was not paper, like in the Old World, but similar. It had been made by crushing wood and leaves. This was mixed with a resin, made from sap, and it had been rolled out on a flat rock. Once dried, it resembled paper, having an oval shape to it.

The Traveler had taught Hawk how to make symbols that represented their words. It was not an alphabet.

Hawk scribbled slowly as he thought of his father, thinking of how he had become the leader of the Cheeka people after his father passed.

Hawk’s father had been out hunting with the Tokalas. During the hunt he had stepped on a rattle snake. He recovered from the snake bite. However, he had gotten an infection that he could not fight off. He passed away when Hawk was a young man, of not quite twenty years old.

Hawk smiled at the thought of how the Traveler was by his side for nearly the whole year afterwards. The Traveler helped him get acquainted with the responsibilities his father had inherited, and now those responsibilities were Hawk’s.

Hawk, like his father, was a natural leader. He had a way of gently guiding people, much like the Traveler. He was patient and kind. Everyone liked and respected him.

As Hawk lost track of what he had been putting down on the paper, his mind drifted. He leaned back and stared at the fire, setting the feather down. He began thinking about what his son, Atewa, would be accepting in the way of responsibility. Hawk smiled, knowing that Atewa was more than ready. He wondered if he should just pass the torch now. Not wait until he was gone. That way Atewa would have his guidance in the beginning. It had never been done that way before, but he saw no reason why it could not.

The Chatan village was not a difficult village to manage. Everyone knew what to do and when to do it. It was not often that Hawk had to intervene. But, like with any large group of people, occasionally he would have to resolve a dispute, or smooth out personality conflicts. Only a few times had he had to use a heavy hand. When this did occur, everyone got out of the way. Hawk could be a force to be reckoned with. He had the authority to send anyone packing. No one crossed him, at least, not on purpose.

The village’s day-to-day operation was pretty simple. There were people that would ferry water twice a day. Others would tan hides. Some worked with pottery, while others did the weaving. No one worked eight hours a day. They did what they needed to and then went about their personal business. If someone wanted to do something different, they could. Many people traded responsibilities often.

This is where Hawk would occasionally come into the picture. He would make sure that everyone got a turn at doing anything they wished to do. Some were natural artists when they worked with pottery. Some loved weaving blankets and rugs, while others built and maintained the lodges. Most of these people remained working within their trade. Others would rotate through the daily chores that needed to be done, so they never got tired or bored of doing one thing, day in and day out. It also changed with the seasons ─ for example, planting and harvesting corn, or preparing for winter.

When someone grew older, they would eventually do less and less, until they retired, or as the Cheeka would say, settled. It was up to each individual to decide when to settle. Most, like in any community, never quit, always contributing something. The only time that anyone really quit was when their health came into play, and they could no longer help out.

No one grew old alone. No one was sent out to pasture. The village was everyone’s family. Not a soul was left to fend for themselves. Everyone was cared for.

The most prestigious group was, of course, the Tokalas. In many ways they were the lifeblood of the village. Without them everyone would surely starve.

The Tokalas were a tough bunch, but they never acted like, or made anyone feel like, they were better than the rest. They needed the village as badly as the village needed them.

Hawk thought of how proud he was of all the people. His position had never gone to his head. To the contrary, he was humbled by it. His demeanor reflected as much.

It was not just Hawk’s village that he took care of. He was also the leader of all the Cheeka. This was the biggest part of his job.

There were many smaller groups, or villages, scattered throughout this wilderness. Hawk helped keep the peace. Simple things ─ like where everyone hunted and where and how much water they used from a particular creek that many depended on. This was where Hawk really shined. His approach to disputes, or the way he handled someone who was angry, was fun to watch. Hawk had a calming effect on everyone.

He had told Atewa many times that the secret to communicating with people is to stand in front of them and speak what you know to