Page 17

Clutching a cloth in his hands, Elijah Harper chose his words carefully.

A young woman fanned him with a feather to help him endure the sweltering heat at Paul-Sauve Park just outside Oka.

"I', very honored to be here in the land of the Mohawks," he said, urging Indian people to unite behind the Kanesatake Mohawks.

The outcome of their fight with the federal government is critical to all aboriginal people, he said.

Page 17

A moth fought for space under the solitary streetlight just outside the two overturned police vans while just a few feet away three Indian drummers were bathed in its light.

It was now a friend but just a few days before Warriors - for security reasons - had unsuccessfully tried to break it with a crowbar.

It was midnight on the barricades at Kanesatake. For an hour and 40 minutes while the northern lights danced overhead, first taking the shape of the sun and then an eagle head, Indian music wafted down into the village of Oka below the hill.

Page 17

There's an explosion in the background but the two Warriors don't even turn to look.

They just shrug.

"It's "probably" target practice, says one. "There's always maneuvers going on in here. Never a dull moment," he smiles, probably reading the reporter's mind.

There are four AR-15 semi-automatic rifles lying around, one on a cooler to the right while two more rest against one of the two huge pine trees, which along with two overturned police vans help make up the first Mohawk blockade at Kanesatake. Another rifle lies vertically across the tree.

Page 16

Kanesatacke Mohawk Harvey Nicholas reacts angrily and swiftly to criticism of his people. He takes criticism of Warriors personally.

"Do I look like a murderer? Do I look like some kind of an animal? I don't think so. I'm fighting for my land. I'm protecting what I've got. We have to stand up for our rights.

A senior Indian affairs official, Harry Swain, said recently the Warriors were "a gang of criminals" who had hijacked negotiations at Kanesatake.

Page 13

The standoff in Chateauguay between Kahnawake Mohawks and Quebec police officers brought out the worst in some Chateauguay residents.

The well-to-do city, 9 km south of Montreal, on the banks of the tranquil river, which gave the city of 38,000 people its name, seemed to develop a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality.

Page 12

Christina Montour runs a business on Oka's main street, but her mind and her heart is often behind the Mohawk blockade just down the road.

She has a daughter, Natalie, 22 and two nieces at Kanesatake.

"I feel as though I have a nightmare and I can't get over it. I don't sleep good not knowing what goes on behind the barricades during the night. It could get violent. Anything could happen. There's so many rumors, it's very tiring. It has everybody worried.

"I never thought it would go this far."

Page 11

Visiting Quebec in the middle of the standoff with Mohawk Indians brought to the surface images of the Southern United States in the 1960s and Quebec in the 1970s.

It was like stepping back in time to a less civilized age when either the mob or the army called the shots.

At Chateauguay crowds burned effigies of Mohawk Indians not unlike the planting of crosses on the lawns of black families in the southern U.S.

Page 8

On July 21, 1990, Jim Many Bears of the Siksika Nation passed away at Strathmore Hospital due to a heart attack. He was born on July 1, 1910 on the north side of the Elbow River by Fort Calgary and had just celebrated his 80th birthday.

Page 7

This small town of 17,000 threatens to become the next Oka.

The mayor has threatened to use every means possible to keep area Indians from blockading the highway just north of this town halfway up Vancouver Island.

The Laich-Kwil-Tach Indians blockaded the Island Highway to out-of-province tourist traffic as a way of drawing attention to their land claims.

Robert Ostler, Campbell River's mayor, says he won't stand for such blockades which he likened to anarchy.

Page 7

Non-Natives see it as a fight for long overdue justice. But B.C. Indians see it as more than that. It's a fight for survival.

Without land and title, say the Indians, the province's aboriginal people will eventually cease to exist.

And that's why, for the past month, bands across the province have been staging a series of roadblocks.

It's the only way they can get Ottawa and the provincial government to listen to their land claims.