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Student Writing #1
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Down the Ice River

Listen, come listen, listen to the beat of the drums. Can you hear it? Can you hear? Can you hear the beat of the drums? This story is about indians, Pueblo Indians, farmers and weavers, Pueblo Indians. Down the Ice River they are going, all the way down the Ice River. Listen, come listen, listen to the mighty drums, listen, listen, lis....

Listen, listen. Hear the war cries. Hear the cries of terror; mind-shattering screams of going down the Ice River. Only one who has experienced it knows the danger, but who does? For no one has lived to tell the tale.

I'm the Spirit of the Wind. They worshop me, they call me theirs. But I am free, free to do what I wish. Free to send them down the Ice River.

Tomorrow they shall go, go down the Ice River, all the way down the Ice River. They will not survivie. I know they won't. They won't survive the long and narrow, terrible Ice River.

Why do I do this, you ask? I will tell you why. They mistreated me and misjudged me. All I want is revenge. No too big, not too small, just enough. That is all. W h o o o o o o

Today is the day the Indians go down the river, the long narrow Ice River. They are dressed in their war paint. They are looking for blood. But they will not make it down the river. I will see to it. I will put dark clouds in the sky and turn the air to fire. I will topple their canoes and twirl them in dizzying circles through dark caves and treacherous waterfalls, until there are no more.

Listen, come listen, listen to the beat of the drums, can you hear it, can you hear, can you hear the beat of the drums?...............

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