Grandfather Teaching: Look Within

Rachel Gunn by Demao Seven shot January 2015.

Looking for a Tarzan is an admission of powerlessness. Predators look for admissions like this to feed off. "Will you be my Tarzan?" is the question a solid father will sniff out as the way of a predator, and a perpetrator looking for weakness and teach his daughters the way of the Hunter. Many a daughter has become canon fodder for wicked hunters. Many hunters of souls have lost their lives hunting for a daughter trained by a father to begin to become a Woman of Power... - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 10/01/18

In this forest, Sara Jean Underwood asked, Will you be my Tarzan. Many would say, yes, without thinking out the depth and the commitment the task requires... - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 

Crossed Over, and Out of Currency.

Church dress. Fine and unbelievably beautiful Black women cannot help but be appealing in or out of church. Anything they wear in modesty stimulates the senses, so men need to discipline themselves. - Dawn Wolf 10.24.16

Cross worn by Elizabeth Ashley. photographer and stylist, Roland Dawson. (2018)

[Many times with the] Cross worn by a Christian you assume as much as you can assume you'll get some punany on the side after service, or before depending on your skill level! It is always important a conversation to have in efforts to understand the role of the cross, both as symbol and relationship to the role and significance of women. It is not to create confusion injecting sex into the subject of the Cross. Holy to some, the Cross would be offended by the association, but others thinking from another range of views about the victimization of the Cross, as executioner, and the slayer of the feminine energy, in God's name feel great fears! Sex reliefs some of the terror...  - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories May 7, 2018 

Technical Hunts

Texting while sexy! Unconscious has become an allure to the hunter. The phone has eased the skill level requirements of the predator. Limited peripheral vision, loss of awareness, and dulled sense of place contribute to the ease of the hunt nowadays. There is a level of stupidity our young people have embraced rendering them ignorant of a real world more dangerous than the dilemma of what some guy meant in his one-dimensional text.

Being used by a technology is a testament of weakness placing one's soul in jeopardy. Warnings are meaningless in today's world! It has affected simple things all of them gifting the hunter with more opportunities to examine the women he wants without much caution. The warrior and the hunter know the importance of awareness. In the wild, the prey's awareness keeps him alive; across the country the hunted pride themselves being unaware.

Tens of thousands of people devoted to their phones have died violently, been kidnapped, followed home to be robbed and died in car accidents. Those are meaningless deaths. None of those deaths change behavior and attitudes amongst the devotees. They carry on vaguely aware death came to the 'unawares'. Being able to block the obvious from careful consideration is now a way of life. If people want to live and die thus I leave them to that. It is the way of the warrior. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories [4/15/18]

a Prophecy, a Critique.

One man said, "You can only fuck girls that take pics like this, they can never be trusted!" As a man, it sadden my heart his words, but many think like that... - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 11/9/17

"Our future is in the births to come, the mothers who birth and the men who become men to become men, in the deepest sense of the word!" - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories

Outbreak: LAW against Sense

Eight employees of the Netflix show, House of Cards, accused actor Kevin Spacey of sexual harassment, and assault. One of the young men said: 

"The low-level staffer recalled being assigned to pick Spacey up for an on-location shoot outside of Baltimore. As they were approaching the set, Spacey while behind the wheel “put his hands down the production assistant’s pants.”

“I was in a state of shock,” he said. “He was a man in a very powerful position on the show and I was someone very low on the totem pole and on the food chain there.”

Once they arrived, he escorted Spacey to his trailer with his belongings. In the trailer, the production assistant alleges that Spacey cornered him and blocked the exit.

“I told him, ‘I don’t think I’m ok with this, I don’t think I’m comfortable with this,'” the production assistant said. That’s when the actor became “visibly flustered,” fled the trailer, got in his car and left for the remainder of the day, according to the production assistant." 

Part Two

This narrative of a male victim of the sexual advances of a predatory homosexual man is typical. The advent of the Gay Rights movement at the height of its agenda manifesting as law, devoid of its moral contradictions, has created an acceptance of weakness supplanting decisive actions to protect boys from these men. The men who prey now have an out: denial. They have been relying on the naysayers against the relationship between pedophiles, and homosexuality, as a way of being 'afraid of homosexuals'. In the real world, this has foolish a belief to intake. It is a deadly mistake. The victims are everywhere lost in the mess of being compliant, of being accepting, or pretending.

The hard question: "how do we protect our children?" is lost in the Western quest to be tolerant, as the potential victims are being persuaded to allow almost anything, thus creating more vulnerable victims unable to protect themselves effectively.

Part Three

Shamed on national television, one of my favorite actors, is being told on by the young boys, and men he was used to getting his way with. This narrative of a male victim of the sexual advances of a predatory homosexual man is typical. With a populace pretending there is no connection between pedophiles and homosexuality and the national fear of Gay activists, the responsibility to protect virginity and vulnerability is without the question: "How do we protect the innocent?" This edict is far from the lexicon of adulthood, of parenting.

"How do we teach children to defend themselves against predators looking for boys to have sex?"

What is currently passing for sage advice is fundamentally unstructured with no strength of character. It is all in the words of one of the victims I've laid before you to read and ponder:

Part Four

The above mentioned boy's way of getting out and away from Kevin Spacey worked, but it reflected the very weakness of men like this, and centuries ago in ancient Greece and Rome with a similar climate, men like this could manipulate feelings and fear, and have their way. But, many men, true men, would have taught their sons deadly arts that would have left Spacey with a pencil in the soft tissue of an ear, or worse. The father of a boy who'd defended himself thus would step in, at this point, and take on the law in the most logical of ways to protect his son from the system of thought that pretends this reality does not exist.  

Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 11/8/17 

African hunter in the wilds of her Motherland!

HUNTERS we.

"Older Black women, as she does, question futility with a look, rebukes trifleness with a look, and in her eyes tells a story a 'man' needs to hear." - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories

Biker babe's body and body of tattoos.

There is a long period a man is on the hunt for women. The stages of that hunt change as the man changes. It is like changing perceptions, or colors the way a chameleon is capable of doing. In those changes the process is guided by morality or immorality, decency or just plain ol' nastiness! Because this hunt is between men and women how the hunting changes both is; yes, the hunted becomes the hunter and vise versa, but compassion is an element that may arise out of this exchange over the years, but that is dependent upon circumstances of the storylines. Hunting with the sexual drive pushes, at times, many beyond the coping mechanism's strength, and many fall below expectations and become better for it in the long, or the short run. Others persist into their old age the hunt for more of the opposite sex's sex. It either benefits them or it doesn't.

We all know this but our young people need to know there is within them, and within the game itself the capacity to shift those energies into any form. The sex energy is basic and fundamental to all the creative arts and endeavors and ventures and the adventures of Life. Seeing that it can be an easier time in one's life learning how to transform those energies. It wills power into the center. From the center point every direction can be targeted. Understand?


Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
Jan. 30, 2017

kitchen sex cooks up.

Old lady's pearl white thighs make the focus for lust.

Nature of the Beasts

Now, there's something that will never happen in nature: love between the hunted and the hunter. Mutual respect in certain moments deep in the hunt can be interpreted by a sentimental soul, who wishes beyond the scope of reality to believe the hunted can be embraced lovingly by the hunter.

Animals in their natural state do not live by our wishes. They don't enter agreements to make us feel good about ourselves. The lion is a lion. The zebra is a zebra. If they do embrace it is an embrace of death. If the zebra employs a law of survival and gets away the zebra did not become the hunter. The zebra stayed alive to create the illusions he has to confuse the lion on the savannas next time they meet. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 1.30.15

Lion & Zebra, hunter & prey

Take Heed, Son!

Pretense as fine as she is looks good, but has no substance, or capacity to carry her or any woman into the depths of an essence meant for creating Life, nurturing & developmental care of the souls of men is a trap! Son, beware! - Dawn Wolf, August 13, 2016

a Kwakiutl stor about ...

["This is an important and powerful Medicine story. A lot within it."]

Mountain-Goat Hunter - Kwakiutl

Tradition of the Lê'LEgêd, a clan of the wâlas Kwâ'gûl.

(Dictated by Yâ'gôLas, 1900)

 

 

Rolling-down saw (some) mountain-goats. "Let me go up to the mountain-goats walking about on the rocks" (he said).

 

"Where are they?" said his wife.

 

"They are there at LEsElê'k^u." Don't talk that way, else you might fall off (from the mountain). Don't talk that way, else you might fall off."

 

"I do not fall off."

 

"Then go on," said his wife. He had four wives. Then Rolling-down went up. He arrived and hid. Then he took out his charm. He put the dried frog on the rock. Then the mountain-goats could not walk. They just became like the frog, and just lay there. Then he went and hid himself. He just sat by the side of a rock and shot with his arrows. He hit the chest (of a mountain-goat), then he also shot its neck.

 

 

He did not know that he was being pursued by a grisly bear. What should it be? It was standing there, and began to growl. "Do not say so, friend. I am your friend." Then the grisly bear sat down on the rock and listened to the word of Rolling-down. Then another grisly bear arose and began to growl. The bear went right up to take hold of him. He took the man by the shoulder and threw him upward. Behold! there were many grisly bears. They threw the man to one another while they were going up with him to the top of the mountain. Then they came to a fine place in the woods, and the man was thrown about by the grisly bears. His limbs were torn to pieces. His fingers and his toes, and the bones of the man, were scattered on the ground. Then the grisly bears left and went home, and the man was dead.

 

 

Then one of the grisly bears felt badly, "Why did you do so? Did you not hear what our dead friend said?"

 

"Not I," said, on his part, another one, the one who had killed the man. "What do you think?" said, on his part, the one. "Don't you love our friend? Indeed, I feel sad on account of our friend. Let us try to revive him. Go on to Head-Wolf and Head-Runner, that all our friends may come, all the animals."

 

 

Then many animals came. They assembled. They were going to the place where the man had been killed, and sat on the ground. Then the bones of the man were gathered up, and were pushed together. Some of the bones had disappeared. Then the Ermine and the Mouse were sent, because they had a good scent. They searched for the toes of the man. The ermine found the toes of the man, and gave them to the supernatural person. Then he put them on his feet, and the man was sprinkled with the water of life. Then the man sat up on the ground and revived.

 

To no purpose he rubbed his eyes. He thought that he had only slept. Then he discovered the many animals sitting there. "Now you are alive, friend. I killed you by accident. Don't do it again, ["It had gone bad with you. That happens only once"] that you come up here, although you may know that we were laying for the mountain-goats. That is called mountain-goat hunting. For that reason our friend acted in this way. Now you are alive. That was the reason he tried his supernatural powers. Now you shall do as I do. Now your supernatural treasure will be this water of life, and this means of throwing."

 

 

Then he sang his sacred song in the night, and his tribe heard it. "Don't sleep, for somebody is singing his sacred song. It may be our chief"

 

He came to the other side of the village, singing his sacred song. The house site was called Middle-of-Beach. Day had not come yet when the tribe arose and went bathing. Then the sound was heard on the other side. Then his tribe went across and tried to catch him. From time to time he just flew away.

 

For four days they tried to do so. Then he was caught by Gâ'usdês. He was snared. (Time) was beaten for him by his tribe. Then he threw (his supernatural power) at his tribe, and his tribe groaned in the house. He did so to try to tease his tribe. He had four children the princesses of chiefs. His tribe only worked for him. His wives only went out and purified themselves. Then his tribe planned that he should die. Their anger rose quickly when he teased them. He was made to drink blood, menstrual blood of a woman. Then he became sick; then he was given medicine by the one side of his tribe (either father's or mother's family). Then he was bewitched that something should happen to him quickly. It was not one year, and he lay sick. Then he died when summer came. Then his tribe revived: they were no longer afraid.

 

 

That is the end.

 

 

 

Kwakiutl Tales, by Franz Boas; (Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology, Volume II) New York: Columbia University Press; [1910] and is now in the public domain.

 

from archives of Blue Panther

 

an old Maidu story about

MOUNTAIN-LION AND HIS CHILDREN

 

Mountain-Lion went off to hunt deer. Having put provisions of different sorts on his back, he started off, and, travelling for some time, he camped for the night. He slept, and in the morning, after having breakfasted, after having made ready his bow, he went hunting

 

He kept travelling about, and, after having shot a deer, carried it on his back to camp towards evening. Then, skinning it, he prepared and dried the meat; and when it was partially dry, after having packed it in a sack, in the morning he went off. And continuing on his way, he reached home.

 

His two children, who usually came out to meet him, were not there. He heard nothing. "What has happened!" he wondered. Then laying down the deer, after having sat down, he peeped into his winter-house.

 

Some one lay there on the ground, alongside of his wife. "I wonder where my two children have gone!" he thought. Again he peeped in, but did not see them. "I wonder where they have gone!" he thought.

 

He searched about for tracks. He followed the tracks along the trail. Then he turned back again towards the house, and returned thither. He set fire to it, he burned down the house.

 

While the two children were staying in the house, while they were playing, that man (Lizard) crawled in toward them. He sat down, and remained there sitting. "Your father, where has he gone?" he said.

 

They did not answer. They ran behind their mother, being afraid.

 

Then that old woman spoke. "He has gone to hunt deer," she said. "Ho!" said he, and, after having sat a while, went across, and sat down close beside her, remained sitting there.

 

"What are you doing?" she said. "What am I doing? I am going to marry you," he said. "What are you saying? I am already married," said she. Nevertheless I am going to marry you," he said.

 

Then he seized her. "Because of our having done thus, 'In olden times they wronged women, even though having children,' it is thus that mortal men, evil-speaking men, stealing women, shall say," he said.

 

"Women believing, this, even though married, shall take another husband," said he. So saying, he lay down alongside her, and the woman made no reply.

 

The two children stood still behind the fire. Then, taking hold of each other's hands, they crawled out. And when they had stood around for a while outside, they went off; and, having dug open an ant-hill, they crawled into it. Going off angry, they kept on downwards, and camped for the night. The sister was the younger, it is said; the boy, the older.

 

They had gone on ahead, it is said, when after them that old man (Mountain-Lion), returning home, coming back with game from the hunt, burned down the house.

 

Thereafter the old man searched, he followed their tracks. Far he could not track them. Where they had gone about playing, he followed the tracks. He went about crying, all day he cried. He sought their tracks, but he did not see them. He could not track them anywhere. So he went off northwestward, and, going as far as he could, he went around towards the south. He went across and around towards the east, and came on to the northwest, searching for tracks, it is said. He went all around the world, but did not see tracks.

 

He went farther. "To what country, to what country, have they gone, that I have not found their tracks?" he said. Then he went on, went to the place where the sun goes down, came around toward the south. Going farther, he came hither, went where the sun rises, went sorrowing greatly. "What country have they gone to, that I have not seen them?" he said.

 

He departed, crossed over to the east, and, travelling in a circle, went to the north. "To what country, I wonder, have they gone, that I have not seen them!" he said. Every day he travelled, crying, till he reached the place whence he had set out. Then, sitting down, he remained there. He wept.

 

After a while he spoke. "What countries I have travelled! I will go back," he said. So he went back, kept travelling, and after a while reached his own country, his house. Then, from where their tracks had started, he followed them; kept following, followed to where, having gone a little distance from the house, they had stopped.

 

He could not understand. What is to be done, I wonder!" he said. Then, after he had stood around for a while, having looked here and there, he scraped away the sand at the ant-hill. The opening continued on down, and he crawled into it. Near by was the place where (the children) had camped for the night, and from there again he saw the tracks. So then he camped for the night. In the morning, having gotten up, he went on.

 

Having gone a little ways, the children had camped. His sister having grown tired, the boy had carried her, and, having carried her a little ways, he made her get down. This was the way they had done: always again going a little farther on, they had camped.

 

Seeing this, (Mountain-Lion) went on; seeing where they had camped, he went off; and, having gone a little farther, he camped. The two children, killing some birds, had eaten them there; in coming thus far, they had grown a little larger. Then they had gone on, kept travelling, going a little farther, and had camped again. And at that place, digging camas, they had eaten their supper. (Mountain-Lion) reached that place, and went on.

 

Then again, going a little ways, they had camped; and the old man, reaching there, camped for the night. They had shot ducks; they had gathered all kinds of roots, all kinds of food; then they had had supper. Reaching that spot, the old man saw all this, and camped there. And having, eaten all such sorts of food, he slept. In the morning, having breakfasted, he went on.

 

From there the old man, they say, kept travelling, eating food, and camped just where they had camped; then, continuing on his way, he went on. Having departed towards a distant country, they had camped, they had shot a young deer, they had made a bow. The bow was left behind, a little seed-beater was left behind. After using them, they had left them, and had gone on from there.

 

The old man reached that place and camped. Taking down the deer which hung there, he roasted it, roasted camas in the ashes, and ate supper. In the morning he arose, cooked some deer, roasted some camas, and breakfasted. Then he went off, kept travelling, and again came to where they had camped. A large deer was hanging there. A tray-basket was left behind, a root-digger was left behind, a large bow was left behind, well-made things had been left.

 

He arrived at this place; he ate supper, roasting deer, baking camas, taking it out of the fire, sifting it with the tray basket. Having prepared things well, he supped. In the morning, arising, he did just the same again,--roasting deer, baking camas, taking it out into the tray-basket, fixing it, sifting it. Then, when he had breakfasted, he went.

 

Having gone, it seemed as if he had nearly caught up with them. He kept travelling, and again reached the place where they had camped. They had shot a cinnamon-bear; skinning it, fixing the hide nicely, they had hung it up. At this place they left a little pack-basket, a tray-basket, a digging-stick they had abandoned.

 

He arrived at that place. "I have almost caught up," he thought. Then taking down the bear, roasting it, roasting it well, he supped. After he had slept, in the morning he arose and breakfasted. Then he went on, he went away. When they went off, the children left a hut behind. Putting it together with bark, fixing it, covering it over, they had camped. He arrived there. A burden-basket was left, a winnowing-tray was left, a quiver was hung up, deer was hung up, bear was hung up.

 

Having arrived, he built a fire; then taking down the deer, roasting it, he supped. Then he slept; and in the morning, having arisen, he roasted some deer and breakfasted. Then he went away, kept going until he reached where they had camped. When he had arrived, a black-bear hide was hanging there, a fisher-skin quiver was left; a burden-basket, a winnowing basket, were left. "I think I have almost caught up," he said. And, having finished eating his breakfast, he went on.

 

Now he had grown very old. Continuing on thus far, when he looked up, he saw there was a great winter-house. Keeping on his way, he arrived there, being very old. And arriving there, beside the winter-house, outside the house, he sat down. Then sitting there, he stretched himself out, and lay on his back.

 

They saw and spoke of the very old man, "Who has come?" they said. Then that woman who had a father came out. She recognized her father. "It is my father! My father has come!" she said. Then her brother came out, and, coming out, he looked repeatedly at him. But, being so old, he could hardly recognize him. So, going into the house, he brought out his bow, and shot him who lay there. His father died.

 

After a while he lifted him on his shoulder, and carried him to a spring, and laid him in it. Then in the morning, waking and rising as a young man, he came out. He came into the house. His daughter lived there, married, having children. His son also similarly was living there, having children. And the old man having come in, they gave him breakfast.

 

Then, having breakfasted, they talked together. "We, our mother being seized by some kind of mysterious person, became afraid and ran away. We came as far as this," they said. Then they remained in that country in the olden time.

 

 

Maidu Texts, by Roland B. Dixon; Publications of the American Ethnological Society, Volume IV; Late E. J. Brill Publishers and Printers, Leyden, [1912] and is now in the public domain.

from archives of Blue Panther

Eagle's Knowledge of ...



Eagle killing a snake

An eagle does not fight a snake on the ground. It picks it up and changes grounds, then releases it back to the ground. A snake has no stamina, no power, no balance in the air. It is useless, weak and vulnerable unlike on the ground where it is deadly, wise and powerful.

Take your fight to the spirit realm and when you are in the spiritual realm God takes charge. Don't fight in the physical realm. Change grounds like an eagle. You will be assured of a clean victory.

By: Carl Hosick
Photo Source Unknown

 

PRACTICE 19: image of illusion

Big Buttaholics

"The warrior's only shield in war is that he loves peace more than war, and the only creature he should fear is himself. When we fight only in order to fight, we will lose something we will never get back and we destroy much more than we are able to make up in one life. Wars are started in our hearts and it is up to us to make peace to the way out or to become part of war." - Goes with 3 Faces 

modeling nov. 27, 2013
IMAGE of imagination

It is the hidden gun we don't see. It is the illusion we fall prey to advancing upon one we see as vulnerable. Security is all illusion. There is no safe place lest we create it and the 'it' is illusion hiding the weapon that may kill you, or maim or demoralize you. The most difficult trick to unlearn is to believe beauty is what it is on a woman. The success of a woman defending herself is based upon what she convinces the predator, the stalker, the killer to believe and to see.

If I can convince you I will and can kill you you will think of other things and do other things away from me. That is a convincing spirit. Wars and hunts are within the spirit first and end in the body count.

- Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories (Dawn Wolf)
December 11, 2013

thirteenth PRACTICE



Leslie Vega in the snow with Vodka.
Dec. 7, 2013 

"When I see women rejoicing I rejoice with them. They must be in a good spot to laugh aloud. When strong drinks are handed to them in their jovial moments smiles are still on my face, but caution has entered and I am thinking of their safety. Isn't it the Tricksters' job to hunt alongside the Hunter?" - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 12.9.13

Che Bella



viviana Soldano, from the Duchess Collection
Oct. 29, 2013



Viviana Soldano
August 2013 


the Huntress hunts. She can hunt without a word on her face, a sound as a voice, and the hunted will know no trick will deter, or outwit her wiles. Even the owl knows this game. - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 11.4.13

Shadow of Death

Excellent Girl

"Beauty is in the presence of complex
 issues of story, song & deepening wisdom."
- Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 

The words, "...I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..." I suspect are talking to the story of being in the light. As I understand light and shadows they play with each other. Their exchanges reveal and conceal during the hunt, or the stalk. Understanding each exchange is a matter of life and death. Being in light creates the chance for darkness to play with shadow, and being in shadow the knowledge of how light and shadow play with the eyes determines invisibility to the hunter, and vulnerability to the hunted standing in the light.

That was a long way of explaining something very simple to learn in the forest at any time of day. It is about relationship, and distance, and close proximity of light and darkening shadows to the truth of one's state of being! Death lives in the light and lurks in the darkening shadows. In either place one must be centered for the hunter and the hunted can switch robes in a single instance. - Gregory E. Woods 6.20.13

June 16, 2012

What is stopping you, fear?



Himba woman peering into camera

Every day somewhere in Africa, I was told, a gazelle wakes up to outrun the fastest lion. Every day a lion wakes up to ask himself how he will outrun the slowest gazelle. - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories

Nguzo Saba principle:
Kuumba, creativity &
Kujichagulia, self-determination

ONE OF MY HAPPIEST MOMENTS!

The Ceremonial Hunter

I have had many, and like Barry said these days are the happiest, but I say that because these days are alive, and the others as good as they were have happened, and are alive memories.  One of my moments was a supreme moment in the forest in the days I was hunting and stalking wild dog packs. It was dangerous, but I relished it all. 

The moment I am remembering was a supreme morning of sunlight that gave more light to the canopy, and moisture to the ground. I was silent and flowing barefoot listening and merging with the rhythms that moves the soul outside the body as the body effortlessly reclines into invisibility. Everything within me understood everything around me guiding the coming together of something I barely was aware of. 

As the foliage wet my chest, and the Earth subtly moved beneath me the thickness of the bush parted ever so slightly, and one of those sacred spaces that dot forests revealed itself to me. Before me the sun touched down a circle around a feral cat deeply enthralled in thoughtful meditation. What most don't know, grasp, or understand is that the substance of prayer emanates from animals constantly, but in the secret places it is more dramatic, and animals tend to restrain from killing. I was to be no different. With great skill I stepped forward with no sound and touched the cat's neck.

The cat leaped high in the air turned around in a 180 degree turn, stared into my eyes incredulously and seemed to shout, "Oh, shit!!"

He landed. 

He couldn't believe such a thing happened, and wondered later, I am sure, how such a thing happened to him. We stared into each other on opposite sides of the circle of light. We probed deep into each other's intent before the cat's fierceness returned. He turned slowly, and walked into the morning shadows fully conscious of me and where I was standing near his sacred space. 

Out of respect for sacred space I stood still letting the light encase me, and the prayers within became emanations. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 5.26.13

How the Crow Came to be Black – Lakota / Brule

In days long past, when the earth and the people on it were still young, all crows were white as snow. In those ancient times the people had neither horses nor firearms nor weapons of iron. Yet they depended upon the buffalo hunt to give them enough food to survive. Hunting the big buffalo on foot with stone-tipped weapons was hard, uncertain, and dangerous. The crows made things even more difficult for the hunters, because they were friends of the buffalo. Soaring high above the prairie, they could see everything that was going on. Whenever they spied hunters approaching a buffalo herd, they flew to their friends and, perching between their horns, warned them: “Caw, caw, caw, cousins, hunters are coming. They are creeping up through that gully over there. They are coming up behind that hill. Watch out! Caw, caw, caw!” 

Hearing this, the buffalo would stampede, and the people starved. The people held a council to decide what to do. Now, among the crows was a huge one, twice as big as all the others. This crow was their leader. One wise old chief got up and made this suggestion: “We must capture the big white crow,” he said, “and teach him a lesson. It’s either that or go hungry. ”He brought out a large buffalo skin, with the head and horns still attached. He put it on the back of a young brave, saying: “Nephew, sneak among the buffalo. They will think you are one of them, and you can capture the big white crow.” 

Disguised as a buffalo, the young man crept among the herd as if he were grazing. The big, shaggy beasts paid him no attention. Then the hunters marched out from their camp after him, their bows at the ready. As they approached the herd, the crows came flying, as usual, warning the buffalo: “Caw, caw, caw, cousins, the hunters are coming to kill you. Watch out for their arrows. Caw, caw, caw!” and as usual, all the buffalo stampeded off and away - all, that is, except the young hunter in disguise under his shaggy skin, who pretended to go on grazing as before. Then the big white crow came gliding down, perched on the hunter’s shoulders, and flapping his wings, said: “Caw, caw, caw, brother, are you deaf? The hunters are close by, just over the hill. Save yourself!” 

But the young brave reached out from under the buffalo skin and grabbed the crow by the legs. With a rawhide string he tied the big bird’s feet and fastened the other end to a stone. No matter how the crow struggled, he could not escape. Again the people sat in council. 

“What shall we do with this big, bad crow, who has made us go hungry again and again?” “I’ll burn him up!” answered one angry hunter, and before anybody could stop him, he yanked the crow from the hands of his captor and thrust it into the council fire, string, stone and all. “This will teach you,” he said. Of course, the string that held the stone burned through almost at once, and the big crow managed to fly out of the fire. But he was badly singed, and some of his feathers were charred. Though he was still big, he was no longer white. 

“Caw, caw, caw,” he cried, flying away as quickly as he could, “I’ll never do it again; I’ll stop warning the buffalo, and so will the Crow nation. I promise! Caw, caw, caw.” Thus the crow escaped. But ever since, all crows have been black.

Told by Good White Buffalo at Winner, Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota, 1964.

SCALP Hunting

Pakwatikosewin

On July of 1689, at the start of King William’s War, the state of Massachusetts declared that each soldier would receive eight pounds out of the public treasury for each Indian scalp and that “whatever Indian plunders falls into their hands shall be their own.”

Less than a decade later, in 1697, a woman named Hannah Dustin became a Colonial heroine when she slayed her Abenaki captors while they slept "10 aboriginal women and children" then redeemed their scalps for money. A bronze monument honoring Dustin stands in Haverhill, Massachusetts, her home state. Clutched in her right hand is a hatchet. Dustin was held in New Hampshire, where a granite monument stands and one in Massachusetts.

This Hannah Dustin statue is in Haverhill, Massachusetts, her home state. This one shows her with a hatchet and the scalps of the native women and children.

statue of Hannah Dustin 

By 1702, Massachusetts offered 10 pounds for every scalp from a male Indian age 10 and older. That price increased to 20 pounds then 100, Scalps taken from women fetched 10 pounds each, while children under the age of 10 were sold into slavery with proceeds going to the scalp hunters.

“Scalp hunting provided both an effective and a financially rewarding means to kill, conquer and subjugate the Indian peoples of the Eastern Seaboard,”.

Scalping, according to James Axtell, a former history professor at the College of William & Mary, was performed after a person was unconscious or dead. The executor, from a position behind the victim, pulled the hair back and used an obsidian blade to slice off a section of skin, in some cases the skin was torn off.

In other cases, scalps were displayed as badges of honor. Other times they were gifts or decorations. When there were bounties to be collected, scalps served as a way to count the dead.

One of the problems of scalping, however, was that taking a scalp did not guarantee death, they would sometimes suffer and bleed out for days. “There are medical journals that include articles about the care and management of a scalped head.”

Despite the evidence of colonists scalping Natives, the word “scalp” is culturally loaded, and most people assume the practice is rooted in Native tradition. It was invented by the Europeans, French, and Spaniards.

In 1969 Vine Deloria Jr. said Europeans likened Natives to wild animals. “Scalping, introduced prior to the French and Indian War by the English, confirmed the suspicion that Indians were wild animals to be hunted and skinned,” he wrote. “Bounties were set and an Indian scalp became more valuable than beaver, otter, marten and other animal pelts.”

The practice of scalping was losing popularity by the early 1800s. Although there were some reports of scalping during the Revolutionary War and bounties were being offered as recently as the Civil War.

Scalping was practiced by the ancient Scythians of Eurasia. Herodotus, the Greek historian, wrote of the Scythians in 440 BC.



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HUNTING PRAYERS

Jules Cox Photography
Nov. 24, 2012

h p of a Indian woman

The 'Say No to Bully' T-shirt is a good and simple symbol to incorporate into young minds, but is the weakest way to deal with the predatory energy in your face as a child. It is as weak as Nancy Reagan's 'Say No To Drugs' jingle.  It, like this sales campaign, is a marketing tool. It is cute, but if a child understood the story of the 3 Little Pigs, for example their understanding of bullying, and the internalizing of the 3rd pig would change their relationship with the Predator energy from a victim to a Protector.

The 'Three Little Pigs' is the story my Mother used repeatedly throughout my childhood until I mastered the craft at 14. This story is a Warrior's story. I use it when I am asked to work with bullies, and gang bangers. I merged this story, and other stories from other tribes, and my own life into my children who grew up to become Protectors.

The stories within people masterfully told and enforced changes the energy bodies of victims, of the prey. It isn't ad and sales campaigns. It is the introspective lives of children's parents that needs to honestly assess their lives because our children mirror not only their parents, but the culture they are born into. Children see every contradiction living in a country bullying other countries, and its own citizenry.

These are my words. - Gregory E. Woods 6.4.13