As dawn crept across the sky, in the Moon of the Ripe Cherries, my brothers Spotted-Wolf and Laughs-At-Tree started looking confused. Our sacred hill was there as it had always been, since our ancestors had crossed the great River of Mud, but something was wrong. Sticking out from the sides of the hill were lodges painted in bright colors. Whatever evil spirits and brought us to that field of flat-stone, had also desecrated our most holy place. Laughs-At-Tree strung his bow while Spotted-Wolf and I sharpened our tomahawks with the new whet-stones which we found in our ceremonial clothing.