Now I know that it may not be politically correct and I'm not out to hurt anybody's feelings, but let me share a little story:
Mid-1980's, I was was about 12 years old, tagging along with my dad on a deer hunt in the Jemez mountains...back when deer tags were over-the-counter. We came across a couple of Jemez tribal members in a broke down truck full of fire wood. My dad is a fairly resourceful mechanic so he offered to help out.
So, while dad and the driver were working on the truck my younger brother and I decided to hit up the passenger for some insider info on the potential whereabouts of some deer...while he sat around enjoying his Coors Light. His eyes lit up as he talked about all the deers he shoots weekly with his "22 magnum" and hauls back home under the wood pile. Then he spoke of the 6x6 bull elk he shot just the other day with his 22 magnum: "It don't die when I shoot it, but it dead now...lead poisonin'."
On the other side of the coin, we were camped out next to a couple of Native American hunters (not sure if they were from the Jemez or not). One was well educated, I believe he was a lawyer even. The other was a fire fighter that spoke little English. They were very friendly and invited us to join them at their fire. The fire fighter definitely impressed us with his skills as he had a thing for burning juniper wood. There's an old joke comparing an Indian's fire to a white man's, but this guy proved that to be false. The other thing that stood out about these two is that they did not drink.