THE URGE TO HUNT LURKS DEEP IN THE BONES. IT PULSES WITH each beat of our hearts and jets with our blood. To hunt—be it for food, for sport, or as an act of war—causes body and souls to thrive at the height of existence.
We are not the only ones enchanted by the hunt. So, too, are the invaders. And on that cold and rainy day, I watched them from a vantage point high in a live oak. I am Black Shell, of the Chief Clan, of the Hickory Moiety—an outcast from the Chicaza Nation. I am akeohoosa,
or “dead to my relatives.”
The Kristianos had come to collect wood;...