... continued, The Book of Jon

How We Are Where We Are

Another beautiful day is half-way finished for the young Lakota fisherman who is trying to catch the day’s food for his family. A traditionally woven birch bark basket full of bass and walleye sits beside him while he attempts reach his quota of fish for the day.
“Hey, what’s up, man?” a voice from behind him says.
Not recognizing the individual or the regalia he was wearing, the young Lakota responds with, “Uh, nothing. Where did you come from? And what the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, man, don’t tell anybody, okay? I’m lost,” he says with a mischievous chuckle.
The fisherman doesn’t seem to trust the new visitor and asks, “Where are you from?”
“Come on man, I’m one of you guys. I’m from the tribe a few miles down the river. I’m… Crazy Talk, son of, um, Big Feather. You know, from down the river,” the mysterious stranger says sounding more unconfident in his story with every word.
“You are, huh? Well, why don’t we—“
“Wow! You guys have some pretty cool stuff around here. Hey! Is that wild rice over there? Are there fish in that water? Awesome!” the visitor says as he cuts off the Lakota fisherman before he can finish his sentence.
“Yeah, everything is as you see it,” the Lakota assures the rogue sightseer.
“Cool.”
After admiring the surroundings for a couple of seconds, the unknown man’s eyes gleam with envy and he begins to act unruly, “What did you say to me punk? You think you’re better than me? Huh?”
“What? I didn’t say anything to you!” the fisherman says.
“You better watch your mouth, buddy! I don’t like to be back sassed,” he says in a seriously threatening tone.
“But I didn’t say anything to you!”
“Oh, that’s it now! It’s on!”
The visitor turned out to be of the Red Lake Band of Ojibwe who was scouting new locations for his tribe to migrate to and thus started a bloody war between the two nations that lead to the Red Lake Anishinaabeg defeating the Lakota for the resource rich land that would be theirs for many years to come.