When I was little my father had a large amounts of dirt brought to the house for me to play around in. One of the times I was digging I found a sharp white rock, upon further inspection and a bit of cleaning I realized even in my young age that it was an Indian arrow head. I immediately went inside the house and called my dad to tell him about my prize and to tell him how eager I was to show him my archeological find. After the phone call was over I exited my house through the front door that lead to our cultisac. At the end of our cultisac there was a road called the logging road because it was formally used for logging (Original I know). Once I walked to the street headed in the direction of the logging road toward my friends house with the arrow head still in hand I saw an Indian Chief in full head dress galloping down the logging road on a horse looking at me as he road. It was only for a few seconds that I saw him he literally appeared and disappeared all with in a few seconds. I didn't catch sight of him out of the corner of my eye, I was looking straight at him as he looked at me. This was not some ghostly figure that was translucent but was seemingly fully corporeal in nature. I was filled with a deep reverence for this man who this arrow head once belonged and I always will.
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