“What do you want to talk about, Shakiro?” Blue Arrow asks.

“I got an email from Andrew Jackson himself!" the shaman replies.

Blue Arrow leans forward. “Andrew who?”

“The President of the United States,” the chief replies. “I bet it's spam…”

“I thought so too. But then I opened the email… and ta-da! It’s a letter addressed directly to me.”

“About what?” the chief asks.

The shaman runs his index finger down the email for a few seconds as he reads, mumbling. “Oh, yeah. Here’s the nitty-gritty:

"You and your peoples must move 500 leagues west, or else…"

“As if! Or else what?” the dreamcatcher asks.

“Not sure, but I guess he’s referring to bull-ing,” the shaman replies.

“Bull-ing? What’s that?”

“It’s an old technique that cattle ranchers used to move huge herds of bulls from one place to another. They would chase the bulls around, acting like creepy clowns, so the bulls would get scared and run away. Sounds stupid, but it’s very effective.”

“So what do we do?” the dreamcatcher asks.

“I, for one, am doing nothing. I’m retiring soon,” the shaman replies, staring at the dreamcatcher.

“I can’t either. I’m snowed under with orders at work,” the dreamcatcher says.

Both turn to the chief. He pauses to think, remembering the shaman’s words:

“It just takes three things to be a fair chief…”

Man Mountain looks at them, then through the little window of the tent. “I’ll get a good pair of shoes first and just wait to see what happens next.”