Page 25

"every warrior needs to accept the fact that scars, missing body parts, and blood loss are all part of becoming a leader. To reach adulthood without injury was the way of a coward or hermit." In his younger days, his physical form was best described by all who knew him as “having sinewy strength”, however … now with many days behind him, the most apt description would be “wiry willingness”. Howling Wolf probably said it best – after they had done battle with the evil Shaman – Black Eagle, “Two Rivers is a man to have in your clan when it came time to shoot the falls, face down an enemy, or climb imposing cliffs.” The forest encircling the lake was like an Impressionist painting, it was composed of random splotches of brightness bursting out amid the clusters of Oak trees. It was as if the weather was a Fauvist and found joy in turning the foliage from flaming yellow to burntorange and finally to cinder-red. Throughout his life Two Rivers had been very fond of the autumn hues and the panorama made him smile to himself. He was of the opinion that red was a good colour for leaves to drift from the branches to the ground, just as ninety, was a good age to drift into the spirit world. But with the passing of many winter moons a slow certainty had come to him, “death had finally picked up my sign and was tracking very close. There would be no losing my pursuer this time.” He recalled a time, decades ago, when he escaped from the sadistic boarding school and how he had cleverly lost the outlaws who gave chase in the hope of collecting an Indian bounty. But unlike mortal hunters … death never got tired and never lost a sign. It was close now … he could feel the touch of death right behind him. Cold embrace it was not. It was more like a reassuring pull towards a place that promised renewal and maybe even feeding the hunger he felt to see old friends. In the early mornings Two Rivers believed he was able to see his ancestors laughing, mending nets and singing on a distant shoreline across the lake. All of his heroes were there, and at times he even believed that he could see his great grandfather Winter Fox, and the famous Chief Red Cloud sharing a pipe. But Two Rivers had given up on the foolish act of paddling out and attempting in joining the merriment of his ghostly tribe because trying to 25

Hunters & Hearts Excerpt  

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