One of the subjects in the title is very evident.  Across the river. lying in the fog, is a small village of Indians.  From the looks of the meat racks, they are hunting deer or elk to add some variety to their  menu and soft skins for their clothing and bags.  I remember my experience in the deep wood when I ran across grouse.  With my inexperience, I never saw them until they moved.  Nature has given them a almost perfect camouflage.