Mitena sat on her white stallion gazing at the new moons' rays as they peaked through sombre clouds casting her tall, proud silhouette onto the lakes` sandy shore. Yellow beams shimmered upon the rippling water lighting the way for their journey. A cool breeze touched her skin gently lifting her long dark hair. It was early September and the days were getting much shorter and the evenings were losing their warmth. She shivered slightly as she watched the procession of horses carrying the members of her tribe to what would become their new home. The land had been designated to them by the zhaagnaash. The zhaagnaash called it a reservation. Mitena thought it quite ironic that that particular word was used to describe where they were going as the whole community had many grave reservations about going to a place called a reservation. They were also both saddened and angered about being displaced from their ancestral home; segregation of the Indian Nation. There had been too much trust put into the words of the zhaagnaash. Their tongues had spoken of promises but they had broken them as fast as they had been made. Treaties had been signed with the understanding that the land would be shared. The native peoples believe that they are intimately connected with all things that grow or live on the land and therefore land could not be owned. The zhaagnaash did not see it that way. They saw the land as something they could buy or trade things for in order to obtain ownership. Now the tribe was being forced to move to a small parcel of land where they would be taught the zhaagnaashs` ways.

Mitena waved at her three brothers as they rode slowly by. They had become very protective of their younger sister over the past few years since their mother had died. Mitena had been just twelve years old when her mother had passed away from pneumonia.

It frightened Mitena to think about what would become of the spirit-houses where their ancestors were buried. Her grandmother and mother were there as well as many others. These were sacred places but they would probably be destroyed for they meant nothing to the zhaagnaash.

Mitena looked up and then shyly away as Wabanquot galloped by trying to catch her eye. He smiled as she turned her head knowing she was blushing. She knew he had feelings for her and she also knew her father approved. She was, after all, almost seventeen and ready for marriage. Wabanquot was a very capable hunter and would make a good husband.

Mitena sighed deeply as she wondered what would become them; of their beliefs and their way of life. Would they still be able to practice them or would they be forced to become Christians like so many others. She smiled sadly at the hypocrisy. All that she had heard about Christianity seemed now to be a lie. There was the story about a Jesus man, the Son of God, who walked on the earth over a thousand winters ago and had taught of love and forgiveness. The zhaagnaash were full of hatred, judgement and condemnation when it came to the Native peoples, and, if truth be told, their own kind as well.

Mitena knew all too well what was coming. She had heard the stories of those in the south who had been uprooted from their homes. Their whole way of life had been taken from them without a thought from the zhaagnaash. Many of the women had been raped and the white mans` seed planted inside. It was hoped this would stop the native bloodline and eventually wipe them out. If that didn`t work, well then, eradication by death would have to be the answer.

Mitena watched as the elders rode slowly by. Some were too weak to ride, but pride and bravery and her fathers' words kept them going. She flashed back to just a few days ago when her father, Chief Askuwheteau, had spoken to the elders who did not want to leave.

``No one will be left behind! You are our family. You are a part of us all! We will not leave you here!``

``But we will only hold you back,`` her grandfather had responded.

``I am Chief Askuwheteau, and I speak for my people. No one will be left behind!``

Mitena jumped at the sound as an eagle cried out in the distance. At almost the same moment a scream was heard from one of the tribeswomen. Mitena watched in horror as one of the elders fell off of his horse.

``Mishomis!`` Mitena quickly dismounted and ran to where he had fallen.

``Water! Bring him some water!`` her father shouted. He knelt by his father, holding his head in his hands as he gave him the water.

``My son,`` the old mans` lips trembled as he spoke, ``My heart is broken. My body is too weak for my spirit.``

Chief Askuwheteau smiled gently at his father. ``You are just tired. Once you have slept you will feel better.`` He looked at his tribesmen and shouted, ``Gather some firewood, we will camp here for the night.``

It was not long before a couple of fires were blazing and people were gathered around them. Blankets were distributed and children were cuddled up close to their parents. Mitena sat next to her grandfather watching the children, remembering a time when she too would cuddle close to her parents. How she missed her mother. She looked tenderly at her grandfather as he slept. He had been through so much in the last few years and now he was losing all that he had known. A tear escaped as she thought about their future. What was going to happen to them? She lay down next to her grandfather and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing. Perhaps in the morning things would look better.

Mitena woke just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. She listened as the waves rolled in and out. It seemed to be the only sound there was. It was so quiet. Too quiet. She knew she had to turn and look at her grandfather but she was so afraid. She knew what had happened. She could not hear him breathing. She drew a deep breath and turned slowly to face him. She could tell by his face that he was gone. He looked so peaceful. ``Gi zah gin,,`` she whispered as she lay her head on his chest and wept. It had all been just too much for him. She lay for what seemed like an eternity allowing the tears to fall. Slowly she lifted her head and stared out at the water. She thought about the plight of her people and wept some more.

Her father, who had woken to the sound of her crying had come to stand behind her. He lifted her to her feet, putting his strong arms around her holding her tightly.

``He is gone.`` Was all she could say.

Her father gently let her go and went over to where his father lay. He sat down beside him and held both of his hands. There were no tears, only a look of anger and bitterness. Her brothers had come to stand by her side. They watched their father, saying nothing. By this time, most of the tribes people had woken and had gathered around them. The women cried. The men stood in silence, waiting for their chiefs` instructions.

``Go up to the forest and find a burial place for my father.`` The chief said quietly.
Mitenas` brothers and some of the other tribesmen, including Wabanquot, disappeared into the woods. Within a matter of minutes they returned.

``We have found a place,``

``Good. `` Her father responded. ``Take as many men as you need and prepare the burial site.``

A blanket was placed over her grandfather while they waited. Mitena walked to the waters edge looking at the dark clouds gathering. She knew her brothers would make sure to prepare a spirit house for their grandfather. They would place some of his personal items in it so he could take them with him on his journey to the spirit world. His death seemed so symbolic to her. It was a reminder of how all of the old ways seemed to be dying. Not because they wanted them to but because they were being forced out of their lives. She did not want their way of life to change and why should it? There were still enough of them left that they could fight for their future. Mitena decided then and there that she would rather die than conform to the zhaagnaashs` ways. From somewhere deep inside a seed of hope was planted. They would stand united and find a way to preserve their culture. Mitena lifted her face to the sky just as the clouds opened and the rain began to fall.

``Mitena!`` her fathers` voice intruded on her thoughts. ``It is time.``

Mitena walked towards her people, knowing that somehow, some way, they would remain who they truly were meant to be. Like this beautiful land they would survive and thrive, no matter what the cost might be.