Short Story Of Savages

However the brightness of the day may have dimmed, but not the joy from the people around me.  Everyone is either watching kids play basketball on the old wooden framed basketball hoop or enjoying a match of badminton while the zip-line flies by overhead.  The night however, does bring a mood about the people of the island.  It's a mood of vigor and excitement!  When the sun is beginning to set and the sky portrays a magnificent array of yellows reds and pinks which reflects off the water making a sort of etched painting glistening in the falling sun.  As the sun sets, dinner has just finished and we all part our ways,  many people sit on the back porch overlooking the water, a few go into to the square where people begin to prep for the glorious bonfire.  Although, I choose to sit in Toad Hall, this place is constructed out of old slender burned wooden planks, that have five little rooms cut out inside.  Toad Hall on the outside looks like a little ranch style home with wooden slabs on the outside along with a red tin roof, which is where I like to call my second home.  As dinner comes to an end so does the daylight.  As I walk out of Toad Hall a dark haze has consumed the island and I am excited by the smell of  burnt pine coming from a ferocious.  The fire has seemed to brought people out to see what the light is, buts it's when they arrive they are surprised to see the glorious fire which has brought people together around the old brick fire pit.  Here we tell stories, sing songs and make s'mores until it is pitch black and the crowd has slowly dispersed into their cabins or tents and it is now I say my goodnights to my family and friends and tread my way back on the dirt path.  I can see the gazebo, as I bank the corner, it stands tall in the moonlight and the water has

The frequent depiction of the “Noble Savage” trope has many functions, with its main function being to portray Native Americans as sinless uneducated humans and to make their abusers and torturers seem evil and superior, which in most cases the torturers are indeed evil. Bartolomé de Las Casas and Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca use the “Native Savage” trope for different reasons, which makes their portrayal different, and not because they are writing about different tribes and groups of Native Americans. The “Noble Savage” is a very common adaptation of Native Americans, but the definition isn’t as pretty as the name of the trope may seem to be.

Many European settlers have been using the term savages to refer to many indigenous people like the Yuchi, Mariames, Salinan, Cherokees, and the Puebloan. The indigenous people have always been underestimated by the Europeans settlers when being called savages due to their different mindsets and the ways of living that they had. All these tribes were called savage unjust and untrue because in the Journal of Christopher Columbus, Christopher describes them as “very well made” they look like they have very well built bodies. (qtd. in American Yawp, The Journal Of Christopher Columbus, 37-68) The Indians were really smart people but really different in many ways to the European Americans. The indigenous people are thought of as noble savages according to the article “Thanksgiving and the Myth Of Native American “Savages”” by John Horgan. Indigenous people should not be considered savages because they have were able to survive for a long time.

The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

Lucy had heard stories before, about the pillaging the "savages" would do in a town after exacting vengeance. The newspapers loved to exaggerate moments like these to sell and try to find people to give "first hand" accounts, but she also knew that many of these reports had some truth to them.

The sound of screaming and swords clashing outside jolted me awake. I found myself pressed against the wall, sword and shield both in hand. The thane shouted commands to destroy everything in sight. With that, the sound of death was on the other side of the wall. I heard my mother’s screams become instantly silent. An army man shouted, “One down! The other cannot be found, sir.” My stomach became knotted as I thought of my mother, lying on the ground with no hope of waking up. I should have burst through the wooden door, swinging my sword in every direction until I heard the last breath of each Rine there. Instead, I sank to my knees and wept as I listened to the Comitatus invading my home. I waited for the thanes to come here and kill me as they did my mother. My father had managed to escape, but there is no way he could save me. However, I knew he did not care to anyways. The sound of men approaching the door took my breath away. My sobbing became uncontrollable. I heard the wooden door creek open, as I sank deeper and deeper into the dirt beneath me. A feeling of helplessness over took me. My life was over. The Rines had a mission to kill everything they saw, and I knew they saw me. One officer yelled,

The cavernous and threatening woods that stretch out before me are a godless sight, unfolding out for what seems like forever. Beautiful, yet terrifying. The low hanging clouds that seemed to almost hold some kind of electricity cover the woods like a descending blanket of mist trapping its victims below. The vast, contorted trees leak sticky sap like poisoned back of a frog; the trunks twisting up insanely, like the despairing limbs of the damned begging for forgiveness. The damp earth beneath my feet softens as I walk down deeper in to the undergrowth. The distant howl of a strange and unfamiliar creature echoes all around me and suddenly I am a submarine, submerged in this unknown woodland setting.

As Bill took his first step in the woods, he takes a deep breath soaking in the scent of oak and fresh ash. “far removed from the seats of strife”, not having a warm bed or hot meals even a full night rest. Knowing he had one abventure ahead for Bill and Kats. Both having to hike 16 miles everyday over rocks,trees, crossing ice cold rivers, and hearding the rain outside of thier tend and the roaring of the bears at night.

In Savages and Beasts: Chapter 3, Nigel Rothfels describes the modern cageless zoo as resulting from animal entrepreneur Carl Hagenbeck as well as the purpose’s behind Hagenbeck’s popularity. Hagenbeck’s creation of “people shows” are described as appearing to resemble the natural environments of its inhabitants. The author describes Hagenbeck’s capturing and transporting of exotic animals along with the economic struggles that came with the growing success of an overproduction of animals and deflating prices. In response, circuses, or “people shows” came about; consisting of people whose life styles were different from their audience as well as animals, tents and household and hunting equipment. Hagenbeck’s circus exhibits were described

Breathless, Alex ran through the forest. It was twilight, normally his favorite time of day, but this golden hour took on a malicious tone. These woods were full of weeds, slippery moss covered stones , and twisted, thorny vines. Alex’s foot caught on a snarled root, and he tumbled onto the cold dirt. Alex sensed something was amiss, and he knew The Beast was growing ever nearer. As Alex lay sprawled on the forest floor, a single thought ran through his mind. “I’m done.” with the will to live draining from him. Alex lay still in the dirt and leaves resting for his last time. The soreness in his legs was so unbearable he wanted the release of death; craved for it even. “Thump”....... “Thump” The Beast's feet approached slowly and

For a brief moment in time, I felt severed from reality. The myriad of emotions within me: sadness, outrage, chagrin, relief, were overwhelming and forced me into a state of numbness. I was then shocked back to reality by the people around me, and I started to make sense of the chaotic neural messages within my brain. One fact soon became clear - I was an utter failure.

The hot, arid air burned into my soul as millions of needles pricked my delicate skin. Beads of sweat coursed down my face as I turned towards the window facing the barren desert surrounding me. My family and I were on an ever sought vacation to the Grand Canyon, yet we had to drive from New York to Arizona and I radiated impatience throughout the journey. Walls of heat shrouded me as I gasped for air, yet my efforts were fruitless, swallowing nothing but fire. As my lungs collapsed, I looked out the window and into the heart of the looming sun, taunting me from afar. Suddenly, my eyes gave out and sweat and tears engulfed them till they took their true form. A forest blanketed with soft and gleaming snow, blemished by the phrase: “Only 10 more minutes.” However, I was awakened from my revery by a vehement cry as I gazed into the eyes of tattered vultures, of every discrepancy, with an unforgettably shrill voice. “Who dares enter our land!” they screeched dissonantly. Trembling, my eyes flashed over the sun and I was standing in a perpetual desert, with vulture's eyes glued to me. I froze with fear, though the sun baked my skin.

I heard a feminine voice call out to me as I blazed out the front door. "Good morning Amber! Oh, where are you--" I cut her off with a sharp slam. I couldn't look back. With each step towards my car, I inhale painful sobs of air. I feel as if I don't know who I am, as if I was that 18 year old girl hearing the news of his death for the first time. I couldn't think of the name that belongs to me, or any one else but my father. Any face my subconscious offers had the resonance of a total stranger, then was replaced with the haunting image of

The colors are astonishing. No longer does green dwell the trees. It seems the entire world is on fire. The bright yellow has mingled with the orange to create small flames, flickering from the branches of trees. They fall to the ground and ignite the earth. It has been said before that fire is pure and cleans everything it touches. It takes something broken and dead and gives it one last spurt of beauty. One last goodbye before it leaves forever. The bed of the fire is a deep blue, so searing it burns any who come near. The heat makes my eyes water and stings my uncovered face. I want to get as close as possible. To see the embers be swept with the glorious reds and royal blues. The heat is

I gazed up at the mountain now drenched in light red and squinted, trying to keep my eyes open, as the bright sharp light burnt into my eyes. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I finally closed them unable to the pain any longer; I wiped my watery eyes and thought where Samneric’s fire was? There was a rumble inside me, and I looked hopefully at the jungle wondering if I could find Samneric’s fire as well as something to eat. In the morning light the jungle seemed like an old and tattered rug chewed to bits by moths, yet despite this the jungle and the whole island was beautiful shining in the sun’s warmth. I kept on walking as the jungle beckoned me calling me with its beauty. As I passed between the trees, the canopy overhead plunged me into velvet darkness. The only source of light was from the small gaps in the shell of overlapping leaves, where the sun glistened through. Moss and lichen covered the ground in abundance, thriving in this humid atmosphere, and feeding on the eerie green light that managed to penetrate through the ceiling of emerald leaves. The strange green shade and the various knotted pillars made it impossible to see for great distances or to walk about freely.