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| The Hunt by � kanee He was running as fast as was possible for him to run in tall grass. He knew how important it was to keep up while his prey remain unaware of his presence. He crouched, low to the ground, and when his prey stopped to rest, he used that time to silently recoup. He tried to catch and control his breathing, then moved stealthily forward under the cover of the tall grass a few silent steps, to close the gap between them. A brother crow overhead called out a warning and his prey, ever wary, quickly sped away from the danger it only sensed, but did not see. �Oh Great Spirit, I grow weary, and my prey eludes me! I ask for strength to continue! Make my feet swift like an eagle, my legs strong, like the bear!� He was in his element. He was born to be a hunter. He became part of the landscape. His long, flowing hair kept the rhythm of the tall, swaying grass. His breathing became as the warm prairie wind, his heartbeat in synch with mother earth. He became the earth, the trees, and the sky. And he was silent. His prey became comfortable. And he moved agonizingly, slowly nearer. He fought the thrill caused by the adrenalin within him in order to remain still and in control. His heart was racing, his muscles were primed, and he silently drew in a long breath, and held it. Then he sprung forward, almost in slow motion, his arms outstretched and before he even realized it, he had it within his bare hands! He stood there in utter amazement, not knowing who was more surprised, him or his prey. He was afraid to breathe. He opened his cupped hands and peeked inside and saw the butterfly trapped therein. He burst into giggles at what he had just done and began to dance a victory dance and sing his thanks to the Creator. In the distance, he heard his grandmother calling him. And with the butterfly still in his hands, he ran to her yelling, �Elishi! A kamama! I have caught a kamama!� February 19, 2001 |