I poised on a bluff overlooking the great white waters of our home bay. I stood tall in my simple breechcloth and moccasins.
Into the inlet, three large canoes.
A strange group of men disembarked. They did not look like my Tribe. Pale as the undersurface of the slimy frog and with long facial hair.
My people attacked and the Tribe slaughtered most invaders. I longed to participate.
Only a few men escaped. One man yelled out something in a strange tongue. Our medicine man, Wise Owl, recognized what the words meant.
“We Vikings will never return to these savage lands.”