ipl-logo

Personal Narrative-The Death Of A Tribe

1300 Words6 Pages

The DEATH of A Tribe

An arrow whizzed past my head and hit my adobe I turned around and saw Comanche war chief standing there getting ready to shoot another arrow, I ran quickly to find my family. When I got there they had already scalped both of my children I grabbed my bow which hadn’t been used in an eternity from the house and left. My wife wasn’t in the adobe so I ran to look for her I saw a glimpse of her being dragged to the Comanche war chief I quickly grabbed an arrow out of one of my fallen brethren and released an arrow at the war chief I hit him in the thigh and the man dragging my wife away ran at me with a shield with countless numbers of scalps on it I tried to run but was hit in my back, when I woke I was in a puddle of my own blood possession less and without friends. I tried to get up but to no avail, I had an arrow in my back and the ground around me was wet I could just give up and lay here for the rest of my life or I could try to get up and hunt down that Comanche tribe that raided my village. …show more content…

I felt around trying to find it and it was just an inch away from my spine, I grabbed it and pulled and an immediate pain shot through my back, but I had to keep going or it would be even harder to get up. With every second I felt the hope pouring out of me, I had to get up and that was when I heard the footsteps. I couldn’t move I thought it was a different tribe of Comanche warriors looking for a survivor, before I could act the arrow was ripped out of my back that’s when I blacked

Show More
Related
629 Words | 3 Pages

Narrative: Sacagawea (Dani E.) “Everything I did I did for my people” Bird woman I was born in May of 1788 in Lemhi County, Idaho into the Shoshone Tribe. My dad was the chief of the Shoshone Tribe. At around the age of 12, I was captured by the enemy Hidatsa tribe during a buffalo hunt. I was traded to a French Canadian fur trader, Toussaint Charbonneau, who made me his wife in 1804.

Read More
1215 Words | 5 Pages

The Moua journey began thirteen years ago, fighting to hold the tears back. People said, coming to America will change the life of Hmong families. Many different people, from many different countries, with different communication styles are all over the world that immigrated to America, one of those people are Hmong, they speak two dialects of a language. These dialects are known as Hmoob dawb (Hmong white) and Hmoob ntxhauj (Hmong green). Along twenty-three-hour fight lay ahead of them, as they realize it was time to say good-bye to their native family and home as tears rolled down their eyes.

Read More
581 Words | 3 Pages

It was only eight o’clock, but the sky was as dark as night when the cold and rocky bus ride I had endured for more than three hours finally came to an end. I traveled to Alaska with my mission team hoping to learn about the Iñupiat tribe and to evangelize about the gospel. Deeply buried near the edges of the Bering Sea, the Iñupiat tribesmen fish, farm, and hunt daily to provide for their families. They surprised our mission team by welcoming us with two large pots; one filled with walrus meat and another filled with their traditional dish of shimmered and shredded fish mixed with berries. Their hospitality was unexpected and helped me to experience their culture from the inside—something that I could never have experienced from a National

Read More
211 Words | 1 Pages

For the past twenty-five years my close friend has attempted to enlighten me to the teachings of her ancestor's each time I questioned her reactions to such things as death, disaster, injustice, and also to her seemingly insane determination in the face of sure defeat. As she gently explained, the sound of her word's went into my ears. I comprehended what she was saying, however I didn't really understand until I was browsing through some pictures on the internet using a key phrase I had heard her say so many times; The Trail of Tears. A particular image caught my eye and as I looked at it, the flat words she had said to me began to come to life. Each word with it's own shape and rhythm began to come alive and together poured out to me a beautiful

Read More
660 Words | 3 Pages

If I were a plain’s Indian living in the 1900s my reservation would be the Choctaw reservation. I would explain to my grandkids that us as plains Indians we were great wanderers, travelers but we did not like farming. We were greatly known for being great warriors and fighters by using the tactic of gorilla warfare as a sneak attack.

Read More
828 Words | 4 Pages

The Sound of Scissors We’ve all heard the fairy tales (and likely seen the Disney adaptations) but what happens when an element of of darkness, wickedness, and irony is added to the classic tales: A Tim Burton movie. Many of Tim Burton’s movies have been hailed cinematic classics-though many of them have only been around for less than two decades. One of these beloved movies is Edward Scissorhands. Despite it making less than 200,000 dollars in it’s opening week in 1990, it has gained immense praise and popularity since for it’s creativity, intriguing characters, and visual appeal. What makes Tim Burton’s movie so unique is largely credited to his purposeful use of cinematic techniques such as non diegetic sound, framing, and

Read More
283 Words | 2 Pages

If my Native American tribe was to choose a side between the French and the English, I would pick the French. Firstly, the French have a small population in America. Therefore, they aren 't as demanding for certain supplies since there is less of them. That will leave more supplies for the Native Americans. Also, this means that they won 't take up as much land in America as the English do.

Read More
195 Words | 1 Pages

We are often told that it’s ok to be different. My younger version would definitely agree. Growing up Indian, I had the benefit of teachers repeating instructions a bit louder and slower. I never worried about getting injured on the baseball field, because I got to sit on the bench. My parents never had to worry about driving me to sleepovers, though I was seemingly friends with everyone in school.

Read More
307 Words | 2 Pages

For my first diversity event I decided to attend the 43rd annual Mankato wacipi (Powwow). I chose this event because I attended some like it when I was younger. I always have admired Native Americans and their deep connection with their spirituality. I remember in fifth grade my elementary school hosted a Powwow that my mother and I attended. This was the first time I have ever been exposed to the Native American culture and the memory has stuck with me till now.

Read More
512 Words | 3 Pages

Sep 14 i 'm traveling to the hoosier national state park to see the sights. when it 's rainy and I slid off the road and crashed into the woods the truck rolled and I landed against a tree. I couldn 't stop i landed on my roof and had to cut my seat belt to get down then i worked on finding my wits and seeing what happened to me. when i looked around i was i was down a pit and couldn 't get out. today i worked on getting a shelter built, so i worked on getting limbs so i can build a frame to a small house then i patched it with foam from the seats of my car.

Read More
342 Words | 2 Pages

My memory when I was little was when I shot my first deer I was walking back in the woods and me my dad and my dog were sitting there and we didn 't see no deer around or no signs of wildlife but we heard a lot of gun shots around the mountain me my dad and my dog walked back to the truck and we where eating and went to go talk to my mom and when we were coming back from are break. I got out of the truck and walked down a trail and my dad was stayed with the dog in the truck and I was coming back to the truck and I saw something laying down under a pine tree

Read More
432 Words | 2 Pages

Civil War The year was 1861 and the first battle had already begun. The country was now divided as two teams, the confederates and the unions. I wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming battle that was about to happen. I sat in my tent in silence, thinking about what might happen.

Read More
1127 Words | 5 Pages

Life as a Native American sucks. I realized this when I was a little kid. I’ve come to accept that what other people label or describes us as are true. I’m not happy to admit this they are right. My people don’t do anything to prove these people’s claims, or better known as stereotypes, about Native Americans wrong.

Read More
1371 Words | 6 Pages

The world is filled with people, and like snowflakes, each person is not the same as another. Each person identifies with different aspects of their lives to create their own personal identities. I personally identify with my Italian side of my family to help form who I am today. I have found myself connecting with this side more so than the other parts of my identity. It affects how I live my life by becoming the center to the culture surrounding me.

Read More
791 Words | 4 Pages

In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 1981 novella Chronicle of a Death Foretold, the narrative recounts the events leading up to the eventual murder of bachelor Santiago Nasar, a man accused of taking the virginity of the defrocked bride Angela Vicario despite the lack of evidence to prove the claim, and the reactions of the citizens who knew of the arrangement to sacrifice Nasar for the sake of honor. This highly intricate novella incorporates a range of literary techniques, all of which are for the readers to determine who is really to blame for Santiago Nasar’s death. Marquez uses techniques such as foreshadowing and the structure of narrative, along with themes such as violence, religion, and guilt to address the question of blame. Although Santiago

Read More

More about Personal Narrative-The Death Of A Tribe

Related Topics

Open Document