Most of us have encountered ticks on our wilderness treks. Usually we pull them off without realizing the potential danger.
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Sunlight filters down through Russian olive branches, lending light and shadow to the buckskin-clad hunter concealed in the thick tangle of bush along the riverbank. The tip of an antler is barely visible in the dense thicket off to his left.
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Returning home along a path after an early morning foray into the open woods, a young hunter sang a happy song of success to himself. Five dead squirrels dangled from his belt. He felt proud and would gain honor at the evening council fire at the village. His kills were small but someday he knew he woudld be a great respected hunter, acknowledged by the elders and his peers.
As he walked and daydreamed...
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The area of the beautiful peat wetlands in southwest England known as the Somerset Levels has many beguiling secrets; this place is steeped in myth and magic, not least because of its strange wraith-like mists and dense silent fogs...
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Jun/July13 Edition in this issue:

Iowa Indian Artifact Show Page By BILLY BERGER

A Year With Osage Page: Birth By TONY KINTON

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