By Warwick Evans
Deep in the heart of the reservation, Big Chief Sitting Duck is addressing his braves.
(drumming)
Sitting Duck:
Big Chief Yellow Feathers from tribe in north appoint some of my best braves to be
advisers in Great Tee Pee of the People, for what happen when happy hunting ground
revert to Yellow Foot rule. Him attempt to form "council of shadows" headed by Chief
Aching-Bones, previously in charge of high-rise wigwams. But man born with silver
spoon in mouth now speak with forked tongue. Aching-Bones come out with great long
spiel of buffalo foofies. Him not to be trusted. Make Sitting Duck mad. Make urgent
smoke signals to Big Chief Sitting on John in Downing Street. But deep down me keep
cool - me know that at least until 1997, me in total control - and braves from north
not attack so long as war-drums still sound.
(drumming stops)
Sitting Duck:
Oh ... great towering totem-poles. Background music finally stop. I now invite northern
braves for pow wows about pow wows. I go off now to meet them. Together we search
for good location made up of several wigwams and a couple of camp fires. Maybe then
we can finally reach some sort of settlement. In the meantime, no time for dinner
so cancel my reservation.
