Creative Writing The Legend of Sweating Moose-Balls
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Creative Writing: The Legend of Sweating Moose-Balls
A long time ago, there was nobody on the land except for one Indian tribe: The
Cranchids. Then, the white man moved in, burning down their huts, killing all
of the men, and taking the women to be slaves. They left all of the children
alone, to survive on their own. One of the children was named Sweating Moose-
Balls. His father was the chief of the tribe, and the greatest warrior that
ever lived. His name was Dancing Prairie Chicken. Now that the chief was dead,
Sweating Moose-Balls would become the Chief, at the age of eight winters.
Sweating Moose-Balls learned quickly, and soon the other orphaned children were
learning to collect food, build shelters, and hunt. Many winters had passed,
and the village was as good as new. Sweating Moose-Balls was already a man,
with a wife and five children. One day, one of the hunters ran back to the
village, telling of white men in their forest. Sweating Moose-Balls took his
ten best warriors with him to avenge the death of their families. They came
into view of the enemy, and Sweating Moose-Balls recognized one of them. The
man was old now, but he had been the one who had killed his father. The other
ten warriors also recognized him, along with a few of the older men. Wanting
revenge, the tribe encircled the men and moved in. Soon, the white men were
trapped, and they noticed. Sweating Moose-Balls stepped forward, and spoke to
the first old man. "You are the one who killed my father." he said. "yes, and we
want to apologize. Your mothers have taken over our houses, and we need you to
take them back." the old man pleaded. Sweating Moose-Balls thought for a moment.
He could see that the man was sincere; he was practically begging. But then,
Sweating Moose-Balls got an idea. He started to smile. "No, we will not take
them back. You are our prisoners now, and we command you to take our whole
tribe with you to your own land. We will have you make something called a
Government, and they will give us money - a lot of it. All of the white men
will have to pay taxes, which will go to us. In this way, we will not be your
slaves anymore, but you will be our slaves. We will become rich off of you. You
will live crowded together in places called cities, while we have all of the
good land for ourselves, in places called reservations. The white men realised
what this meant for them, but they had to do it. Today, all of the nations of
that land can thank a proud hero, who let the natives be a major nationality,
for all that they have. And white men still shudder when they hear the name
that caused them so many nightmares: Sweating Moose-Balls.
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Deer, Moose, Perspiration
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