I was standing in a clearing – of woods. I was dressed like Cherokee did 400 years ago. I saw Russian troops coming – maybe 20 or 30. I lifted my long rifle filled the chamber with black power and stuffed a wad and ball down hard and then I set the lock and flint hammer.

Then I heard a Russian yell out to the other troops, “its Him”– the Bear – the dangerous old man. When I saw the Russian soldiers were young men, I was very sad and mad within – at who ever sent these kids to Native Land knowing full well most will never return home.

Hey – He’s mine one said! and they all fell down low. One said I get his magic rifle. One said no ‘it’s the beaded knife scaberd hung around his neck, His power. I started to pray in Cherokee – and I lifted to aim my long rifle – this is native Land I yelled out. I am Cherokee – you must leave or I’ll shall kill you all. I AM YONA UNEGA! Ani wa ya Tsa La gi.

pop pop pop pop I heard and a round hit my face and cut my cheek in two on the left cheek bone and I fired my rifle. And one jumped and fell. Then I kept firing somehow – I fired the long rifle over and over like a slow automatic. But I never missed a man. Suddenly thousands of Ancient Cherokee spirit peoples were all around me, at my sides. And pop pop pop Russians they kept shooting at me and a round hit my side on the left and my arm on the right. I grunted with pain. But I was excited to fight and see my Ancient elders all all around me. I was in Focus. Steadily firing my long rifle and it kept shooting a new round. The flint lock hammer was going back on its own. I saw I had killed at least 25 Russians. One determined Russian came walking towards me one on one and so we walked forward, approaching each other. I was bleeding all over and I look down and I was old and all full of blood. But I never lost focus – then all my Elders were singing a sweet powerful chant and I fired my endless rifle striking my enemy on the side. I stayed in Focus feeling strength within made by the song of my Elders. I kept shooting and hitting my enemy.

Then a few other Russians jumped up and I Fired to the left – and killed one. I fired to the right and killed one more. The main soldier and I were still walking closer fighting one on one again.

So we got close enough to fight with knives I pulled mine from its scabered over my chest. And we locked arms each with a knife he stabbed me and I stabbed him.

I said this is native land! You have to leave, this is where Creator put us not you. He said in a thick accent “no” the world bank gave it to me. And I felt that was wrong and foul. So “I got mad” and I thrust my knife into his neck on the left with my right hand and I ripped it to the side and up till a big stream of blood shot out in a gush all over my arm. He fell and I yelled this land belongs to no man because its native land. You can not own it. He was dead. And I let out a warrior victory cry. And said this Earth cannot be man’s property.

I went and picked up my rifle and noticed all the Russians dead all around me. They were young very young boys 19, 20, 21, years. I was very upset in my heart because of this.

I walked into the woods with my spirit elders coming closer to me singing.

I felt dizzy and weak. I fell down and knew I was at my end. So I reached for my pipe to smoke – I pulled it from my shoulder slung pipe bag. I loaded my small pipe and sang in Cherokee. A little people about 14 inches tall came walking up to me nodded his head and with respect I acknowledged him – he stepped closer and dropped a hot coal in my pipe I puffed and smoked. – I choked up blood and smoked praying to GREAT CREATOR – then I choked up a lot of blood – and little people said let go Yona Unega your work is done. The victory is yours for the people and Earth and Animals here in the land of your Fathers. So I nodded and smoked I gave little people a puff off my pipe and I let go so my body died.

I stood up – out of my old body. Little people took my knife and rifle down into a hole with 4 other little people. My Elders were all around me. – we were all pure energy.

They said look and go up speaking in Cherokee. Then I looked up into a road like a cave of light and moving multi colors. I floated up, up, up.

Then I snapped out of my dream state. I felt my face. It was not shot in two– but I knew where each wound had been. I knew once more who and what I AM.

I AM Yona Unega of The Southwest of Turtle Island Forever a warrior