From the distant hill Windrunner could see the plume of thick black smoke coming from the tarnished fields. Keeping low, he ran towards them, his moccasin-clad feet skillfully traversing the forest floor. He was, after all, an 'Indian' he thought, with a wry chuckle. If he couldn't sneak up on a bulldozer, then what the hell kind of native was he?
Up at the top of the hill he peered down at the scene below. A large convoy of trucks were parked in a row, each one carrying enormous black pipes...pipes for the pipeline that was already being built, meant to one day soon snake across the entire breadth and width of Turtle Island, carrying the thick, corrosive black sludge that would one day be made into oil.
Windrunner wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but he knew that he had to stop them. He knew that the lakes and rivers would not survive the inevitable spills that would result, spewing corrosive black poison all over the sacred hunting and fishing grounds. He knew that this was his destiny. Ever since he was a young boy growing up his mother had told him about the prophecy of the great snake that would threaten to devour Turtle Island, and how a time would come when people of every colour and race would come together to save the world for the next seven generations. They would be known as the rainbow warriors, their coming foretold in ancient Cree prophesy....
