Towering Rock

"I can swear to Black-Hawk's ability, wise council. He is skilled in both diplomacy and warfare, and I have known him to be virtuous and wise. It cannot be that he has abused his power." The one in something of Black-Hawk's clients reported before the council of five elders. Swirling Pine had always been a smart and hard-working forester, one of the Forester Guild's leaders. Now he was sitting in the House of Law, where the elders Black Bear, White-Wolf, Sharp Point, and Strutting-Black Eagle, and the eldest at nearly ninety summers, Bending Oak. The House of Law and the Council were called for the most severe cases of bad actions, and bad judgement. This was the case wit Black-Hawk.
Black-Hawk, as Black Bear thought on the man, was intelligent, warlike, but a farmer like many of the other Hawka tribesmen. The tough red clay of the mountain valleys yielded some fruits of labor, so raids were often enough conducted, and Black-Hawk led many of them, stealing the turkey, the chicken, the fish, and deer meat from the neighboring tribes. Therefore, it was decided two summers before that the Hawka were to leave the valley realm, and enter upon the fertile river lands to the south, where fish, deer, turkey, and land was plentiful and ripe.
To ensure a successful migration, Black-Hawk was chosen to be an ambassador to the neighboring Bearka and Deraka tribes, along with a law that made the tribe leave after 3 summers . He had fulfilled his duties for two years, one with each tribe, but there were rumors when he returned, and two pouches of rare stones were found in his house. It had ensured that the rumors of being a traitor were brought to light, bribed to provide the route of the migrating clans. Ever since then Black-Hawk had sent in clients, friends, family, neighbors, and everyone who found favor with Black-Hawk to the House of Law. Now they sat, awaiting the next witness.

"Thank you Swirling Pine, you may leave." Sharp Point stated, and Black Bear watched the forester stand and leave the room. Next was Green Waters of Valley, a medicine man beyond compare in the Hawka clans. He was about forty summers, bending with the weight of age, naked from the waist up, covered in swirling black and blue pigments.
"What do you say, Green Waters of Valley?" Bending Oak called out from the center of the semi-circle. His voice was crackled and old, but his wisdom was unchallanged, a rock in the swirling river of rumor and myth.
"I say that Black-Hawk is a wise and gracious man. His deer meat and pelts have allowed me to live and contiune to practice my art. He is generous..." the medicine man stopped when a warrior entered the House of Law.
The warrior was breathing a little heavily, and the black eyes flickered along the Council till he met Black Bear's eyes.
"Black Bear, there is important news. The warrior Black-Hawk has died."



"What happened warrior?" Black Bear stood in the center of the longhouse of Black-Hawk. It was musky and smoky, the afternoon sun beaming in through the opened leather flaps. Hundreds of pelts, spears, war-clubs, knives, bows and arrows, and bags of grain, corn, berries. His longhouse was one of richness and oppulance. It was the finest house in the Hawka clans.
Above Black Bear was the rafters, and hanging from the strong oak poles was the body of Black-Hawk. He was stark naked, with his eyes bulging and tongue lolling from his mouth. A ladder sat nearby, knocked from the rafters, no doubt by the seizure and jerk as Black-Hawk died of suicide.
"The wife of Black-Hawk entered the longhouse after we had searched her. She was indignant, but all women are when we search them. After that, we admitted her to the tent. Then a few seconds later there was a scream. We rushed in, and swinging like a knotted rope from a branch, was Black-Hawk, swinging around the central fire pit."
The warrior grabbed his groin and spit on the ground, following the constant ritual of protecting himself from the dead man's spirit. Black Bear and White-Wolf both did the same thing when they stepped into the Longhouse.
The city of thousands was now alive with the news of Black-Hawk's death.
The city was built along the Blue River, the one that stretches to the Great Lake. The river bent around the mountain ridge, and meandered along the valley. The city covered both banks, with hundreds of ordered long houses. Turkey pens were scattered around, sqwaking and gobbling away. Smoke trails slivered up into the air, and from the surrounding hills the foresters struck away at the trees.

The city was about to be burned, and men were preparing for the traveling. Sleds were built to carry the grain and maize, meat and other supplies. Dogs were being trained to pull lighter loads. Turkeys were to be slaughtered, and augurs take the gizzards and stomachs from the largest turkey. The rest were to be eaten on the way south. It was a massive preparation, and the forresters were making rollers ready, to ensure that the heaviest materials could be carried southward. Warriors were sharpening stones, making ready.
Black-Hawk was dead, and the crime scene was about to be burned along with the body.