Everything is fresh and new on a June morning. Someone performed a miracle while we slept. The air was cleaned to crystal clarity, the rising sun glistens on every leaf and blade of grass. The hills are new green from spring rains and the horses that graze there are sleek and shiny. Such rewards, such a as s dv, are for the early riser, the one who greets the day with thanksgiving and praise. Regardless of how many tagalongs from yesterday threaten, they cannot break the spell of the beauty at hand. Another opportunity, another splendid day that is so oblivious to the schemes of man. To go with it, to rise with the morning mist, is to know the freedom and restoration in the soul of the American Indian.

~ To the Indian, words that are true sink deep into his heart where they remain; he never forgets them. ~

FOUR GUNS