It sounds as if Squatting Fox knows things. Things that only he may know, deep, secret, ancient, buried, mysterious, evil things that might account for that poor bastard who’s eye fell right past your ding-dong, things you might need to know if you intend to make it through this Indian Summer Special One Week Camp Session, things without which no aspect of this story will make much sense at all!

On the other hand, somewhere in this god-forsaken camp there are girls, so without so much as a fair-thee-well, you do a 180 and head after your friends.

Actually, it’s more like a 185.5, which is a real shame. A 180 would have had you ON that path instead of leaving it at a 5.5-degree angle. Not so much of a big deal if you’re using a protractor...

...to measure angles on your college board exams, but that’s something you won’t need to worry about, since it is a big deal when you’re running in the woods. In this case, it’s just enough so that you run head on into a very sharp protruding branch exactly at the height of your left eye. You must have really, really wanted to see those girls judging by the speed you’d worked up, enough to push that branch all the way through your head, pierce the back of your skull and drop your eyeball in the pine needles at Squatting Foxes feet.

As your already dead body spastically thrashes on the tree, the Old Indian sheds a single tear.

Not out of sadness, he’s just mildly allergic to Pale Face brains, a bit of which made it all the way to his buckskins.

"Hmm," says Squatting Fox. "Me take-um eyeball. Maybe do some sort hysterical practical joke, drop in urinal while some white devil making water like in beginning hysterically funny 'choose own adventure' on line book simulation. Me love-um I-Mockery.com. heap big time. It almost make complete subjugation of my people tolerable."

ODIN LOST AN EYE AND DIED ON A TREE ONLY TO BE
REBORN MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER BEFORE.
YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE TO START AGAIN.