it means
Place of the Iroquois Bones
When I hear how the Redman lived in peace and harmony
I tend to smile and say what a bunch happy horseshyt
When the first French traders and missionaries arrived in the 1600s, the Native American Tribe called Ojibwe or Chippewa lived along the Bay. They referred to themselves in their native language as Anishinabeg, which translates as “Original People.” by now you people know all that by now , During the period of colonization, the powerful and much feared Iroquois tribe invaded this area in an attempt to gain influence and dominate the fur trade. In 1662
“Nau-do-we-e-gun-ing”
A fur trader from Sault Ste. Marie observed human bones and skulls still visible on the beach here in the late 1700s. It was not a minor local skirmish, it was a turning point in Ojibway History… it was to us what Waterloo was to the nations who stopped the encroachments of Napoleon.
We were the first to defeat the Iroquois, who to the number of a hundred warriors
came to take one of our villages. Hearing of the enemy’s march, fifty Ojibwe went to meet them. Under the cover of a very dense fog they entirely defeated them. They had for arms only arrows and tomahawks, while the Iroquois relied much on their firearms. They united and formed a circle around the camp of the Iroquois… They entered the camp during a shower of rain, near day light. Not a soul was awake to give the alarm; and every Iroquois was put to death except two.
As dawn approached and the Iroquois began to fall asleep, the Ojibwe quietly beached their canoes. A massacre ensued and all but two Iroquois had been killed. The remaining two were kept alive but had their noses and ears ceremoniously cut off and sent east in their canoe to relay a message
STAY AWAY
Visitors and tourists even today say when walking through there
Screams along with horrible sounds of pain can be heard
not only at night
People shouldn’t spit on the ground
the land is much older than you
for there are Brothers and Sisters buried there
where ever you are
in today’s context
when the Good people of America standup
there will be Hell to pay
bonus stuff
I am not the wolf, nor am I the sheep.
I am both and yet I am neither.
I am hated by the sheep, for I do not look nor think like them.
I am hated by the wolf, because I know how and why they think like they do.
I am out cast from the sheep, and I hate and love that at the same time.
I am thankful I am outcast from the wolf, the source for evil.
I have always watched over the flock of sheep, it is in my DNA.
I have always resisted the wolf, again, It is in my DNA.
I have both of their strengths, and neither’s weaknesses.
The sheep are afraid, weak, forever dependent on those stronger than they are.
This dependency allows them to be conquered and dominated, easily.
The wolf is a coward outside of his pack, he is weak when he is alone.
The wolf preys upon the weak and defenseless. He conquers and dominates, easily.
I am not afraid. I am strong, and never depend upon anyone, for anything, outside my family.
This absence of dependency keeps me from being conquered and dominated.
I need no pack. I am alone strong.
But in all this strength, I never conquer or dominate the sheep. Only the wolf do I dominate and conquer.
The wolf fear me. And rightly so, I take no prisoner. I expect and give no quarter.
And in all this, I still watch over the sheep. Watching for the wolf.
Hated, until the coming of the wolf.
I accept this fate. It is in my DNA. It is that I am, not who I am, that makes me what I am.
I also accept that as a fact, it is not a question of if I die. No not at all. And gladly.
It begs more questions than that.
How many go before me? The honorable manner of my passing?
Have I remained true to what I know?
I am Sheepdog