In the wilderness of Great Lakes region, all tents were deep in the sleep only from the Chief's tent rising smokes were being followed by tales of old. "We were left with no choice but to consult the shaman once more. When we returned to the tribe, mourning never stopped for four days. Each and every family was suffering from the loss of at least one of their family members. During these four days, shaman carried with endless rituals. He called our ancestors to help, prayed to the patron spirits and the bald eagle. Finally, heaven heeded our flee. Shaman told us to wait for Wendigo outside the cave of spirits where she will obtain her material form and turn into a totem to rest without disturbance. The men including me accepted the duty willingly to remove the shame of losing our comrades and to gain the glory of a great hunt. So, until the day came, we prepared and prayed. Elders blessed us and the shaman carved our weapons and skin with sacred numbers. I will never forget that day. A thick layer of whiteness was covering everywhere. Snow was reflecting sunrays so that despite the blizzard going on one could believe there were two suns: one in sky and one on ground. We entered once more into the forest where we lost our kinsmen. Everyone was quick to reach the cave. We were faster than a snow rabbit and more silent than a hedgehog. There was nothing left but to wait the night in still patience."
The Little Raven could hear his heartbeat and believed others were hearing them as well. The Chief observing the influence of his story was enjoying his smoke. His wife and daughter were already asleep hence he spoke in a low volume "The sun was setting on the top of pines and sky grow darker as the sky was painted by the reddish color of dying son. The silence we used to in several hours torn apart by the Wolf's Fang 'you wait here, and I will handle the job' he said. Another opposed this idea and claimed this honor for himself. All of a sudden everyone was arguing who is more worthy of this glory. We were not aware of the time passing by and our rumble getting louder. This was us heading to our disaster. When I got out of the argument for a moment, I saw the stars shining bright above and comprehended the magnitude of our mistake. Not even a few seconds passed, and an ear-piercing roar echoed from the cave. Now everybody was in silence, it was Wendigo's time to speak. One moment I was standing and looking at my fellows in distress and then I felt a pine breaking behind my back other moment I was sitting in muddy soil of dust and snow. Two of my friends were lying dead fifty feet ahead of me. When I turn my aching head others were regrouped and trying to resist the madness of Wendigo. I was proud of having such comrades, yet it was not enough to move my broken legs. One by one each fighter was either laying death or unconscious and only Wolf's Fang was left there. He sneaked to get the right position to thrust his spear deep into Wendigo’s heart while she was dealing with poor hunters. When he saw fit used his chance, but spear broken by the wooden body of the hideous monster. I still remember the reddish eyes fixed upon him with vengeful desire. It was when I noticed a raven flying above the scene. The holy creature was screaming and looking right beside me. There was... My battle axe half buried next to me. There was no gap between the points which I fathomed the will of ancestors and which I actualized it. While the rest of body was vanishing with a dark cloud, only a broken skull remained from the monstrous spirit. From that day I was named Chief and Wolf's Fang named Broken Spear." Little Child was thrilled to know this story and happy to agonize the man tried to steal his mother from his father. Yet he still had the blue devils even though he was not afraid of the remnant of his father’s success anymore. He obeyed his father’s command to go to sleep.
Broken Spear was wandering anxiously around the settlement, it was his turn to watch for an attack. The People of the Great Lakes was in peace with other tribes and white men too. However, the council of elders decided to act cautiously. It was wise a decision indeed as ambushes were common and the new lieutenant of the Fort Greenwoods was a ruthless man seek to expand in the region. Yet Broken Spear was not thinking any of this, he was not interested in politics or land dispute. There was only one thought in his mind. The same thought kept him awake day and night for seven years. THE SWEET VENGEANCE… He had dreamed it during all these countless hours in every direction. How he will kill the rascal caused his misery, how he will punish the whore left him for that rascal, and how he will drown their bastard. Everything was set but now he only needed to wait for the tribesmen to go to the sleep. It was midnight but the Chief tent was still full of light, he could hear the deep voice of Chief in his post. He was growing impatient, the time was coming, he had to give the signal, but Chief was awake. “Does he know?” he asked to himself and “It is not possible!” he tried to comfort his soul a moment later. Eventually, the final campfire was extinguished.
The Little Raven opened his eyes to hell. The tent was full of suffocating dark smoke, in a foot away his sister was lying motionless. When he rushed to call his parents, he saw “Mama” in the entrance. Her body was cut in half and a grey color was left on her brown eyes. The little child believed it to be a nightmare and ran among tents in fire to find a way to wake up. Then he saw… His father was on the ground covered with mud, bleeding from every bullet hole in his body yet he was still holding his war axe tight. The area where the people gather during the rituals and dances was full of dead bodies. When he lifts his head, he saw the Broken Spear yelling to a white man on horseback. The soldier went sour and fired his pistol on to him as a reward for his help. Now the Broken Spear was lying on the ground like his kinsmen he caused their death with a medal of honor on his chest. When the Little Raven lifted his head again the Lieutenant saw his prey and galloped his horse on him. The poor Raven flapped his wings as fast as he could but there was no place left but the Long Trace to go. Meantime the merciless man approached to the river; he noticed the poor child drifts with the flow. He confined himself to trotting his horse back to the fort.
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