their prayers blew away with the dust of their bones , and all we have are some broken words , remembered by their children : `` we see you in the faces of the red people of the east great ah-k'awil we see you in the faces of the white people of the north planter of lineages we see you in the faces of the black people of the west trimmer of branches we see you in the faces of the yellow people of the south bringer of blood thunder we are all born of the flowers of your tree perfect in the beginning '' here are the hunters standing to pray .