Is human kind worth a SECOND CHANCE?

As we quietly make our way to a small clearing - well hidden by short gaunt pines and the bleached skeletons of ancient dogwood - the sharp sound of frozen mud crunches beneath our boots, our breath bellows forth like steam from an angry locomotive and the bitter cold bites deeper into our raw faces and blistered hands.

Once in the clearing, a sudden breathless silence spreads among us.

Suddenly, to the right a score of blackbirds scream out their angry cries, throwing hasty insults and mocking taunts at those who dare to invade the pure sanctity of their domain.

To the left the high grass - having shed its early morning dew - is ripped open by the passage of a gang of killers hurrying to leave the scene of their crime.

Before us, lying supine on rust colored pine needles are the mutilated bodies. Their final death throws ugly portraits of surprise, agony, and despair.

A young female vividly coated with splashes of rich crimson slowly turning to burnt umber, looks up with sad longing eyes, the vital spark of life quickly ebbing.

A young calf, barely old enough to walk, snuggles up to the slowly stiffening body of his dying mother, his insistent pleas for help and comfort slowly fading into ragged gasps for precious air as the wound in his chest eats away his life, his weeping eyes glistening with damp helpless tears.

As the old warrior glances in my direction, I detect another tear slowly and methodically working its way down the chapped and weathered creases of his saddened face.

But, his eyes are vibrantly alive, the bitterness and anger they display has taken complete possession of his thoughts and emotions.

From deep inside his throat a desperate cry rings out, shattering the silence and sending the blackbirds fleeing in alarmed panic.

He slowly walks over to the dying animals and, with a quick and expert slash with his razor sharp knife, ends their pain for eternity.

In the distance the thunderous sound of the great iron horse leaves its echoing rumble across the hillside as it slowly fades away.

"What kind of men are these?" asks the old warrior, the bitter words spat out in anger and remorse. "The Great Spirit gave us the buffalo and other animals that we might share the earth together. The animals freely give of their flesh that we may live and we thank them for their sacrifice. Who are these men that they kill for sport. They are not fit to live among civilized people."

The brutal stories he and his fellow warriors tell are enough to turn the stomach of even a hardened war leader; tales of butchered calves, slain hunting dogs, wounded hunters, destroyed gardens, animal mutilations, wanton destruction, and many other barbaric acts.

As we leave the scene of the last murder and top a rise overlooking a sweeping grassland, our eyes behold even more wanton and ugly slaughter.

“To hunt for food or to destroy stray predators is one thing, but to kill for sport or for fun, or to mutilate innocent animals for their hide and leave their bodies to rot in the sun is a crime against both the laws of nature and of humankind,” the old warrior says, glancing sadly at the endless rows of buffalo carcasses littering the plains.

“Some day our other people will learn the secret of living with nature,” I sadly replied, glancing at the bitter face of my Native American Uncle. I use the term the other people because we are a mix of White Man and Indian.

“If not I pity all of us,” my Uncle sadly answered. “The Great Spirit knows how to deal with those who do not abide by the laws that are meant for all living things. Man may fight nature, but in the end he will always lose, because man may come and go but earth abides.”

“If man can destroy millions of buffalo and rape countless forests and stop mighty rivers, maybe he can destroy this beautiful land of bounty, this Garden of Eden that the Great Spirit has provided for us?” I thought.

“But nature will only take so much before nature fights back,” I answered myself. “And then…who will save humankind?”

Or…will humankind be worth saving?

Our brothers and peers, the animals and trees, insects and birds, all that is and was…will be a difficult jury to face!

Does man even deserve a "Second Chance?"