by Gwagwagwe
One morning as the sun rose above the three sister hemlocks, the bisons spotted two puppy's and three people walking across the village center. As always, we greeted them with a smile, and attempted to decide "friend or foe". From their appearance them seemed to be just like us: little clothing, a little on the scruffy side, and carrying a crayfish trap. Well we thought, maybe we have found like minds, maybe we have found new tribesman?
Later in the day we we're invited to their village, and we sat and listened to the stories they told. Similar to ours, avoiding civilization, attempting to "live off the land"; all that was missing was the animist vision (and how could we expect that from non-quinn readers). We offered our assistance, hoping to establish that reciprocal relationship that is the foundation of tribal life. We ate together, we gathered wood and plants; for three days things seemed to be going well.
On the fourth day, Booya began to challenge for leadership, his method was intimidation not the earning of respect, and soon we saw the ugly side of those without vision. Each day the stress grew, each day the bison's became more worried, until finally, while one of the Inos (An Ino is the spirit of the dead who have not received a proper burial, from The people of the deer, in the great barrens of north america) was away gathering, and the bison's we're putting the road kill deer in the trunk ten miles away, Booya attacked Chaching, or at least that what she told us after we returned from our travels.
So there we were less than 1/2 mile from booya, chaching was at our camp and we were tending to her wounds. What to do? The bison's are not armed, unless you consider a pocket knife a weapon, we know booya carries his hunting knife and his deer spear everywhere he goes. What to do? We are 25 miles from the nearest phone, and anyway who would we call. Well we were scared, scared for our lives and scared for the lives of chaching and get-down (the other Ino). We slept very little that night, and by the time the sun was coming up, the bison's were gone (we begged chaching to come with us, but she wouldn't leave her village or her tribesman, no matter what evil would become her). The bison's moved about 6 miles west, to the trail head of the historic south kelsey trail, and set up a new village ground, and for a week the bison's set booby traps all along the trail, for we we're still scared of reprisals from booya.
This is not how it would have occurred if the bison band were larger, but a band of three (one a canine) does not make a tribe, so again we ask for those of you who are tired of running the maze of loneliness and misery, join us. Let us begin the process of becoming tribesman, a lifetime of dreams and vision to share awaits. But remember, the gods will not side with us, or take sides against any other band of Inos we encounter, just our own wits and skills will provide for our lifestyle, and the love that comes from being part of something bigger than yourself.
Bison band of the tribe of the crow.
A small part of the new tribal revolution.
P.S. A supporter of the Bison band has offered us free space, wood, and water for our village. So we are now in far eastern texas, among the gods that live in the swamps. The weather is wonderful, and we plan on staying until the gods tell us different.