Prologue
The radiance of the sun reflects in the calm waves of the broad, but slow river of America, covering the beauty of nature, personified in the two Indian men, a father and his son, sitting at the waterside and staring in the sunset. The smell of fresh water and the odour of the savaged vegetation touch the hardened noses of these two human beings.
Not a word, but butterflies, bees and any other kind of insects overfly the huge creeks around big Mississippi.
Covered in silence, but never soundless, lies the body of water in the riverbed and every piercing shriek of a dying prey, every burst of a lost bone, every gunshot, or every smitten cry for help of a wounded victim would slice the soundlessness into resounding pieces.
Today, only the ripple of a harvested fish, which may taste luscious in the mouths of these native Americans, disturb the silence.
