Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Don't tell me stuff, I am a gossip.

Holy Heck!  I am a big gossip bag. Don't tell me nothing cause I will spill my guts.
Just like this time this guy told me about a boy from Cross Lake  that killed a moose. Killed a moose with his sling shot. No it's true.

Murray told David and David told me.

I guess this boy was out hunting with a sling shot. He came to the river and a moose was eating in the marsh. The moose would put his head under the water and eat the plants under the water. Then the moose would lift his head and look around to check if it was safe. The boy would stand still and not move. The moose would put his head back under the water and keep eating. The boy would then sneak up closer and the moose wouldn't hear because his head was under the water. As the boy got as close as he could, he took out his sling shot, aimed and fired the sling shot. The rock hit the moose right in his nut sack. The moose went "uuuph". The moose gulp water and drowned. You tell me, if you got hit in the nut sack while your head is under the water, you wouldn't gasp and gulp up all the water. You would drown too.

Another guy Dennis, who is from Pukatawagan told me about his grand-dad.

His grand-dad, Mishoom liked to keep a garden. In his garden he was growing potatoes. Strange thing started happening in his garden, his potatoes were disappearing. The Mishoom thought it was some rodent or animal that was eating his potatoes. There was a path going from a hole in the fence to his garden. So the Mishoom was going to be smart and put up a trap for the rodent. Next morning the Mishoom came and checked his trap. Stuck in the hole in the fence with their arm trapped was a woman. One of the home-brew bootleggers. Guess she needed potatoes to make home-brew. Dennis told me the woman lives down the river from his house. It's true.

Laurel told me about the guy from the Swampy Cree region who demanded information. This Band Councilor (Band Councilors are elected representatives for Indians on an Indian Reserve, sort of like your Mayor and Councilors) of this one Band  (Indian Group in a specific area or Tribe) wanted information from the Tribal Council. The Band Councilor went to the Tribal Council office and demanded to see the "Purple Agreement" that took place on his Reserve. The lady looked and looked for the Purple Agreement. She went to the Councilor and told him that she could not find it. He was furious; "find me the Purple Agreement".  She looked again and still no luck. She asked around and sought information from the Councilors Reserve. The people at the Reserve told the lady that there was not purple agreement but there was a verbal agreement. It turns out the Purple Agreement was really the "Verbal Agreement".  It's true.

And there was this time...

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