“Cheyenne Hunters – Circa 1804” by Richard Vernon Greeves is a dramatic, spatially choreographed bronze tableau capturing the eternal tension between predator and prey. Separated by a wooden platform that becomes the metaphorical space between bowstring and heartbeat, two Cheyenne hunters take aim at a fleeing herd of antelope—frozen mid-flight in a chaos of muscle, fear, and precision.

Unlike static wildlife or isolated portraiture, this sculpture is narrative. It unfolds like a frame of living history: survival not as myth, but as moment. The left pedestal supports the hunters, composed and locked in the ritual of pursuit. The right is a burst of movement—antelope twisting, legs flying, one turning its head in primal alarm.

Set in the early 1800s, just as Western intrusion began to shift the balance of the Plains, this piece honors the traditional hunting practices that shaped not only diet and survival—but identity, strategy, and ceremony.

Greeves uses space not as negative, but as meaning. The gap between the hunter and the hunted is both physical and symbolic. It’s the distance between eras. Between respect and erasure. Between memory and motion.