“Your heart is not in your head,” Timpoochee countered his brother and returned to the creek bank.
“Your heart cannot see what is around you and warn you of danger just as my head did now.”
Timpoochee sat down on the creek bank. He watched his brother pull in the net filled with fish.
Cornstalk was well named. His lanky arms and legs seemed as a crane’s legs as the elder brother pulled his catch onto the bank.
“No matter your conceit, Cornstalk, I still say something is wrong here today. Elaqua only proved it. I have been feeling it all morning. The fish swim too swiftly upstream. The birds are unusually silent. The frogs long ago ceased their bark.”
“It is that wonderful mind of yours, Timpoochee, that warns you of no danger at all."
Cornstalk gathered his fish, pretending to pay no attention to his brother’s musing.
“Heed my warnings, Cornstalk. There is something in the air. The flavor of the forest today is not the same as yesterday.”