When I first heard the screaming and yelling I wasn't sure if I should leap off my bench and run into the evergreens, stand my ground and fight, or finish lunch. I opted for the latter, chewing my ham and cheese sandwich in disbelief as the blood-curdling howls grew louder and the clip-pity-clop of shod hooves drew near.
Then, with a flutter of feathers and heavy breathing, out of the forest galloped a man on his horse, kicking up clouds of dust as he ground his painted pony to a halt before me.
Yelling “Yip! Yip! Yip!” and a throaty “AAARGGH” while his trusty steed reared and pawed the air, “Chief Howls-A-Lot” shook his pointy spear in my direction, daring me not to be afraid. I stopped chewing.