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death. He then came to an abrupt realization. “We are unprepared for the Ojibwa onslaught. We have underestimated their numbers and their fighting ability!” He yelled the words as another loose incisor left his gums and dropped to the ground. The realization that the Iroquois advantage was falling apart came much too late to arrive at a solution. The Forest Trees swayed in the breeze. However, the to and fro movement of branches, expressed no remorse for the Iroquois or Big Bear. "Death of Breathers and Flesh-Barks in dreams and in life means nothing to the Forest.” The Trees informed their sprouting seeds. Seeds caught in a struggle of their own to selfishly rise above their brethren to grab as much sunlight as possible. Big Bear was scrutinizing the channel cut into the earth by the once healthy river. He found a shrunken depression containing a slushy mixture of dirt, mosquito larva, and green-brown water. Big Bear scooped up a large handful of muck, which he proceeded to rub on his exposed arms and face, vowing that his skin would become as dark as his pillaging intentions. The mud on his skin prevented reflections being cast, so he felt no longer exposed to the gaze of his enemy. Feeling safe, he slid into the thicket of cattails, ferns, and ivy, and disappeared. He prayed to the spirits that he might live another day to fight. Sweat mixed with the mud-mask, streaked down his face, got into his eyes, and finally gave him the appearance of a waxy Ghost Dance Disguise. "Frightful yes, functional no!" A large Oak Tree surmised to a tilted Pine. From within his hiding place, Big Bear fought the urge to swat at the hundreds of no-see-ums that flew into his nostrils, or when convenient, crawled past the corner of his mouth and thru the gaps in his teeth. Peering out from his concealment, he saw the battle had shifted in favour of the Ojibwa fighting element. In fact, things looked so dyer; it appeared that all might be lost. All around him, the remnants of his Iroquois raiding party was being chased and killed by Ojibwa warriors. The hunter had become the hunted. The entire band of Iroquois warriors was undoubtedly tired way beyond the chance of recovery. The entire warparty lacked sufficient energy reserves to fuel a renewed attack, so they were easily overtaken and beaten into submission. Tendons were sliced, 16

Hunters & Hearts Excerpt  

The adventures of legendary University of Minnesota and Chicago Blackhawk Hockey Coach, Emil Iverson, an Ojibwa Shaman named Two Rivers, and...

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