~A MAIDENS PRAYER~ I am a Native American squaw (from the Ottawa tribe) and I am sitting around the campfire with all the other squaws trying to keep the chill off of us from the cold blustery winds that Upper Michigan is well known for, and praying the white man will not find us. They have big guns. The tall pines and birch trees are blanketed with ice from yesterdays storm, and glisten brightly in the moonlight. There is another storm brewing tonight, and soon our men should be returning from their hunt. Food is getting scarce, and some venison or bear would be very tasty right now. However, will our men return with food to eat? Will they stay safe? It is the white man against us, bear against man, and the elements against both bear and man. The winters are the hardest for us, as it means long periods of time that our men are away on their hunts. When they return with their kill, it is hard and long hours of preserving and preparing their finds. If it was a bad hunt, it often means packing up and moving to other places with our papoose's strapped to our backs, taking down and packing up the tepees, then trudging through several feet of snow with blowing and blustery winds beating across our cheeks. It is a difficult journey in the winter. Even more so, when the temperatures drop below 0 degrees as they have the last several days. As I sit here around the fire, I am praying the men will have had a good and safe hunt, if not... it will be time to move on to new horizons once again.  By: ~Christie S. Hayes     |
