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Description
This is just an anecdote told around the reservation by my blood cousin Simon Red Hills. He swears to it.
Seems that Simon is a fine hunter and guide to the woods. Fact is, he is known to be an able guide. Has a little local fame. Strange white guys pay him to guide to big game. Oh something like a bear or maybe even moose. He swears he's seen wolf and elk out there. And I kid him a bit and say, yeah, and probably a few tigers, too, huh. He laughs me off and just continues on with whatever long tale he might just then be talking up ... probably for thirty or so times.
He's a good guy, thoughtful neighbor, doesn't quite bring over soup when you're in a cold's bed, but if he borrows a saw he returns it. More you can't really ask. For sure. So I sit to listen to a tale or two when he passes by to share a pipe or cold beer on a hot August afternoon under red sumac. And he always tells ... made up or not, always has new stories to tell. Everybody likes stories, long fish tales, or monster bear lies. An' Simon Red Hills can sure tell 'em. Though when he starts in on wild cats I turn out the light and sorta nod. Some are a tad long. He had a store of dogs, hounds mainly, beagles who yelp night and day ... and that was a major fault with our neighborliness. Every once in awhile I'd remind him we used to eat o1' dog when good for nothing other than the stew pot. He'd laugh with great chuckles and disregard my complaint about the yowling beagle hounds.... |

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