He stands on high ground and looks with untold sadness on all that once was, all that has been swept away.
Bear Shadow suffers the grief of all his people - all those who have looked to him for guidance and protection. Many are the honors he has won fulfilling those duties to his tribe.
But, now he despairs, helpless as a leaf in the path of a great wind, for nothing will stop them. They came, they keep coming. His visions have told him they will come forever.
The words on their paper say they want only a part of the great lands, that all can live together. But, their words are lies. Bear Shadow and his people do not understand the concept of lies. And those who come do not understand honor. Not as he and his people know it.
And where they come, they destroy. They rip great wounds in the very breast of mother earth. They ravage the forest.
The beaver that made his home in the stream - gone.
The great herds that roamed the vast prairie and shared their bounty - gone.
The freedom on which the spirit of his people soared over the land like the eagle in his flight - gone.
Their way of life, in all its ancient teachings - gone.
And the blood of that way of life soaks the land that can no longer sustain it.
His heart - his very soul - are torn asunder by the question for which he will never have an answer...
--William M. Finklea
Story created and written from sculptor's concept.
Photography by Joe Webb