Homeroom 208
Grade 8
Ichabod Crane opened his eyes. His head pounded with a profound headache. He saw the beautiful morning sky and realized that he was outside. He had no recollections of the transpirings of the previous night. His head was still throbbing with an incessant pain and he could not remember anything. He pondered the possibilities of amnesia, but shooed that thought away when he realized that he knew who he was.
Ichabod felt sick to his stomach with agony. He deeply inhaled the crisp, morning air but to no avail. He still could not remember anything. That is, until he turned to his side. He caught a glimpse of a pumpkin, crudely carved to resemble a grotesque head. Ichabod's memories came flooding back. He recalled his rejection from the coquette, Katrina Van Tassel. He remembered his venture into the woods, towards the home of his current landlord. Worst of all, though, he remembered his terrible flight from the Galloping Hessian; the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
Ichabod had been chased for many minutes, all of which seemed like hours to him. He had fled through the many obstacles of the forest towards the bridge. He believed the bridge to be his sanctuary, where the powers of the horrid specter would reach an abrupt end. As Ichabod rushed across the bridge, he took heart that the Horseman was indeed unable to follow. To his utter dismay, though, the ghost used the revolting pumpkin-head as a projectile. He threw it with such force that it knocked Ichabod senseless.
He didn't know how long he had lay unconscious. All Ichabod knew was that it was dark out when he was attacked and now it was day. Ichabod groggily lifted himself of the floor and leaned on the entrance to the bridge. He felt worse than ever before. He ran to the rail and vomited into the water. After the sickening display, he sat down and leaned against a tree trunk for some much needed rest. Before he knew it, Ichabod drifted into an uneasy slumber with nightmare about the Headless Horseman. He awoke with a start when he heard someone approaching.
"I thought I might find you here, Crane." Brom Bones said to a startled Ichabod.
"I must leave." Ichabod murmured quietly, not really caring whether Brom heard him or not. Brom just shot him a confused look.
"You do not understand. I had a run in with the Headless Horseman. The accursed spirit almost ended my life then and there. The fiend! The scoundrel chased me to my limits and beyond. Alas for poor Gunpowder, her fate is unknown to me. The evil being assaulted me both mentally and physically. I cannot reside in Sleepy Hollow anymore. I haven't the heart." Seeing Brom's stupefied face not comprehending, Ichabod yelled, "I MUST LEAVE!!!"
The sudden outburst surprised further the already surprised Brom. He did not know what to make of this sudden proclamation. "Surely you will consider living in our peaceful community for a while longer, at least to the spring equinox." Brom said to Ichabod, though he knew quite well that Ichabod's mind was quite set. He did not know why he even asked him to stay, for at first Ichabod had been the butt of most of his jokes, and later they had become bitter rivals for the cause of Katrina Van Tassel, the rich and radiant maiden who had captured both their hearts.
Ichabod looked as if he were considering the notion of the invitation for a minute and then promptly said, "No. No! I must leave. My future lies not here, but elsewhere. Farewell, Brom van Brunt. Farewell, Sleepy Hollow." With that, Ichabod ventured out of the boundary of Sleepy Hollow and on to the road to the future.
Ichabod had his bow slung over his shoulder. That was the only noticeable weapon he had. He also had a concealed dagger and revolver, both of which he only used in dire emergencies. (Except for the dagger, which he used in hunting) His slight build did not allow Ichabod to use heavy, powerful weapons, such as swords, axes, or large guns. His skill with the bow was quite remarkable, though, and he could throw a dagger quite accurately, if not far. He had spent the past few years wandering the land, and inevitably, he found a way to survive. He had grown stronger over the years, and was not the wimp he used to be. He was actually quite the opposite. He had grown braver, though he still knew whom and what not to fight out of pragmatism.
Ichabod slowed his horse, Rogue to a trot and motioned for his companions to come closer. The leaders of the group, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark approached Ichabod hastily, to see what he found. They arrived on the small hill where Ichabod was standing huffing and puffing, for Ichabod was the only person with a horse he could ride. They had pack horses to be sure, but they were needed for the supplies. Ichabod chuckled and pointed to what he saw.
There was a small encampment of Sioux Indians. They were moving about and many of them were pointing towards the adventurers. Lewis and Clark cried out for joy because they could see many horses grazing near the Indians' encampment.
"Finally, we find intelligent beings other than the wild vermin." Lewis exclaimed.
"Horses!!" Clark cried, that being his first priority.
Ichabod readied his bow and started to make his way towards the Indians. "What are you doing?!" asked a disbelieving Clark.
"Just in case." replied the ever- vigilant Ichabod replied. While saying that, Ichabod realized truly how far he had come. He would never have taken precautions such as this in the life he used to know.
All of Lewis and Clark's party came rushing towards them, having now spotting the natives also. Lewis went into a frenzy, putting away weapons and anything else that would seem the least bit hostile. He went down as an emissary himself as an extra precaution. One hour later, Lewis came trotting back, obviously excited about something. He informed the party that these were friendly Indians and had offered them a meal. They were also willing to trade.
The meal was fantastic. Ichabod in particular enjoyed it, for he had not eaten well in years. It was becoming a night to remember. One soldier ruined it, though. (Many of the adventurers were soldiers as this expedition was a government operation) In his carefree state, the man let his hands slip and his gun went off with loud BANG!!! Everything seemed to stop and Ichabod once again brought his bow to his hand. The Indians all grouped up and seemed to be discussing something.
A lone Indian strode up to Lewis. "We help you. You threaten. No leave." The Indian stated in strained English. After hearing the strange words, the group deciphered their meaning quite quickly.
All of the men of the expedition took out their weapons and Ichabod already had his bow ready. Lewis heaved a great sigh and also brought his weapon to bear. The Indians were greatly intimidated by the set looks and mighty guns of the soldiers. Intelligently, the Natives allowed them to go free but would not trade, no matter how much they wanted what the soldiers had to offer.
The adventurers once again went to their trail along the Missouri River. After a night's rest, they caught breakfast and soon started to make their way to the Pacific once again. The journey to the Pacific was a dangerous one with many perils along the road. There had been an encounter earlier in the journey when one man had been attacked by a bear. The bear had left of its own accord though and nobody was hurt. The travelers were truly unprepared when a second great bear crashed into their camp one night. The people were scrambling around looking for weapons. The bear trapped and cornered one frail looking man. The man was trembling and had already wet himself. The man held no doubts about the fact that he was about to die. How surprising it must have been when an arrow thudded into the back of the bear. Ichabod revealed himself from the trees and notched another arrow. With a tremendous roar that seemed to pierce the very air the bear turned about to face his foe. Ichabod let loose the ready arrow when the beast started to advance. This one hit it in the neck, for the ferocious creature was standing upright. Blood was spilling relentlessly. The bear was losing too much blood. The wound would be fatal. The animal was not dead yet though. It came on with another roar and charged at Ichabod. Ichabod released another arrow that hit it square in the chest. The bear got down on all fours now and charged once again, still not yielding. With startling speed, Ichabod let loose two arrows one after the other. One got it in the forehead while the other one cut into its eye. The bear gave more of a yelp than a roar of pain, staggered, and fell, dead at long last.
Everyone in the camp stared at Ichabod, appalled at his skill. "How do you think I survived all this time?" Ichabod asked with a chuckle and headed off to retire. A few months later, the group met Sacagawea, a young Indian woman who would serve as a translator. It was winter now, so the group set a camp that would last them the winter.
In the April of 1805, the group set out once more. Ichabod always caught them the food that they needed but when food was scarce, the travelers were forced to eat their own pack horses. Soon, they met up with an obstacle much worse than any living enemy. The mighty Rocky Mountains loomed before them.
Lewis, Clark, and Ichabod all simultaneously sighed. "We could try crossing." Clark suggested after a moment's silence.
"It cannot be done with the number of supplies we have, and to discard them would be folly." Ichabod said, lowering the mood even more. "We must go around."
"If we must." Lewis said sadly.
It was a long journey but they made it through the trials and finally reached the Pacific Ocean in the November of 1805. Ichabod journeyed up to the waves and felt the cool spray on his face. He felt good. He felt as if he had finally accomplished something and that his existence was not meaningful. He had brought the expedition through thick and thin with his survival skills.
They rested in the west until March 23, 1806, almost two years after they had set out from St. Louis. Ichabod said his farewells to both Meriwether Lewis and William Clark. He also apologized for not leading them safely back home, though he knew they would get along fine without him this time around.
"Sorry, my friends. I must make this journey alone. I must go back to there from whence I came. I fled like a coward, nay, lower when I was assaulted with what may have been a hallucination, but I know with all of my heart that it was not. I must face my fears and fulfill my desires of a meaningful life. Onwards, Rogue." With that, Ichabod rode of towards the sunset. To the peaceful town of Sleepy Hollow he rode to rid the world of a fiend that deserved not to exist.
"Headless Horseman, Beware!!!!!!!!!"
Ichabod Crane opened his eyes. His head pounded with a profound headache. He saw the beautiful morning sky and realized that he was outside. He had no recollections of the transpirings of the previous night. His head was still throbbing with an incessant pain and he could not remember anything. He pondered the possibilities of amnesia, but shooed that thought away when he realized that he knew who he was.
Ichabod felt sick to his stomach with agony. He deeply inhaled the crisp, morning air but to no avail. He still could not remember anything. That is, until he turned to his side. He caught a glimpse of a pumpkin, crudely carved to resemble a grotesque head. Ichabod's memories came flooding back. He recalled his rejection from the coquette, Katrina Van Tassel. He remembered his venture into the woods, towards the home of his current landlord. Worst of all, though, he remembered his terrible flight from the Galloping Hessian; the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
Ichabod had been chased for many minutes, all of which seemed like hours to him. He had fled through the many obstacles of the forest towards the bridge. He believed the bridge to be his sanctuary, where the powers of the horrid specter would reach an abrupt end. As Ichabod rushed across the bridge, he took heart that the Horseman was indeed unable to follow. To his utter dismay, though, the ghost used the revolting pumpkin-head as a projectile. He threw it with such force that it knocked Ichabod senseless.
He didn't know how long he had lay unconscious. All Ichabod knew was that it was dark out when he was attacked and now it was day. Ichabod groggily lifted himself of the floor and leaned on the entrance to the bridge. He felt worse than ever before. He ran to the rail and vomited into the water. After the sickening display, he sat down and leaned against a tree trunk for some much needed rest. Before he knew it, Ichabod drifted into an uneasy slumber with nightmare about the Headless Horseman. He awoke with a start when he heard someone approaching.
"I thought I might find you here, Crane." Brom Bones said to a startled Ichabod.
"I must leave." Ichabod murmured quietly, not really caring whether Brom heard him or not. Brom just shot him a confused look.
"You do not understand. I had a run in with the Headless Horseman. The accursed spirit almost ended my life then and there. The fiend! The scoundrel chased me to my limits and beyond. Alas for poor Gunpowder, her fate is unknown to me. The evil being assaulted me both mentally and physically. I cannot reside in Sleepy Hollow anymore. I haven't the heart." Seeing Brom's stupefied face not comprehending, Ichabod yelled, "I MUST LEAVE!!!"
The sudden outburst surprised further the already surprised Brom. He did not know what to make of this sudden proclamation. "Surely you will consider living in our peaceful community for a while longer, at least to the spring equinox." Brom said to Ichabod, though he knew quite well that Ichabod's mind was quite set. He did not know why he even asked him to stay, for at first Ichabod had been the butt of most of his jokes, and later they had become bitter rivals for the cause of Katrina Van Tassel, the rich and radiant maiden who had captured both their hearts.
Ichabod looked as if he were considering the notion of the invitation for a minute and then promptly said, "No. No! I must leave. My future lies not here, but elsewhere. Farewell, Brom van Brunt. Farewell, Sleepy Hollow." With that, Ichabod ventured out of the boundary of Sleepy Hollow and on to the road to the future.
Ichabod had his bow slung over his shoulder. That was the only noticeable weapon he had. He also had a concealed dagger and revolver, both of which he only used in dire emergencies. (Except for the dagger, which he used in hunting) His slight build did not allow Ichabod to use heavy, powerful weapons, such as swords, axes, or large guns. His skill with the bow was quite remarkable, though, and he could throw a dagger quite accurately, if not far. He had spent the past few years wandering the land, and inevitably, he found a way to survive. He had grown stronger over the years, and was not the wimp he used to be. He was actually quite the opposite. He had grown braver, though he still knew whom and what not to fight out of pragmatism.
Ichabod slowed his horse, Rogue to a trot and motioned for his companions to come closer. The leaders of the group, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark approached Ichabod hastily, to see what he found. They arrived on the small hill where Ichabod was standing huffing and puffing, for Ichabod was the only person with a horse he could ride. They had pack horses to be sure, but they were needed for the supplies. Ichabod chuckled and pointed to what he saw.
There was a small encampment of Sioux Indians. They were moving about and many of them were pointing towards the adventurers. Lewis and Clark cried out for joy because they could see many horses grazing near the Indians' encampment.
"Finally, we find intelligent beings other than the wild vermin." Lewis exclaimed.
"Horses!!" Clark cried, that being his first priority.
Ichabod readied his bow and started to make his way towards the Indians. "What are you doing?!" asked a disbelieving Clark.
"Just in case." replied the ever- vigilant Ichabod replied. While saying that, Ichabod realized truly how far he had come. He would never have taken precautions such as this in the life he used to know.
All of Lewis and Clark's party came rushing towards them, having now spotting the natives also. Lewis went into a frenzy, putting away weapons and anything else that would seem the least bit hostile. He went down as an emissary himself as an extra precaution. One hour later, Lewis came trotting back, obviously excited about something. He informed the party that these were friendly Indians and had offered them a meal. They were also willing to trade.
The meal was fantastic. Ichabod in particular enjoyed it, for he had not eaten well in years. It was becoming a night to remember. One soldier ruined it, though. (Many of the adventurers were soldiers as this expedition was a government operation) In his carefree state, the man let his hands slip and his gun went off with loud BANG!!! Everything seemed to stop and Ichabod once again brought his bow to his hand. The Indians all grouped up and seemed to be discussing something.
A lone Indian strode up to Lewis. "We help you. You threaten. No leave." The Indian stated in strained English. After hearing the strange words, the group deciphered their meaning quite quickly.
All of the men of the expedition took out their weapons and Ichabod already had his bow ready. Lewis heaved a great sigh and also brought his weapon to bear. The Indians were greatly intimidated by the set looks and mighty guns of the soldiers. Intelligently, the Natives allowed them to go free but would not trade, no matter how much they wanted what the soldiers had to offer.
The adventurers once again went to their trail along the Missouri River. After a night's rest, they caught breakfast and soon started to make their way to the Pacific once again. The journey to the Pacific was a dangerous one with many perils along the road. There had been an encounter earlier in the journey when one man had been attacked by a bear. The bear had left of its own accord though and nobody was hurt. The travelers were truly unprepared when a second great bear crashed into their camp one night. The people were scrambling around looking for weapons. The bear trapped and cornered one frail looking man. The man was trembling and had already wet himself. The man held no doubts about the fact that he was about to die. How surprising it must have been when an arrow thudded into the back of the bear. Ichabod revealed himself from the trees and notched another arrow. With a tremendous roar that seemed to pierce the very air the bear turned about to face his foe. Ichabod let loose the ready arrow when the beast started to advance. This one hit it in the neck, for the ferocious creature was standing upright. Blood was spilling relentlessly. The bear was losing too much blood. The wound would be fatal. The animal was not dead yet though. It came on with another roar and charged at Ichabod. Ichabod released another arrow that hit it square in the chest. The bear got down on all fours now and charged once again, still not yielding. With startling speed, Ichabod let loose two arrows one after the other. One got it in the forehead while the other one cut into its eye. The bear gave more of a yelp than a roar of pain, staggered, and fell, dead at long last.
Everyone in the camp stared at Ichabod, appalled at his skill. "How do you think I survived all this time?" Ichabod asked with a chuckle and headed off to retire. A few months later, the group met Sacagawea, a young Indian woman who would serve as a translator. It was winter now, so the group set a camp that would last them the winter.
In the April of 1805, the group set out once more. Ichabod always caught them the food that they needed but when food was scarce, the travelers were forced to eat their own pack horses. Soon, they met up with an obstacle much worse than any living enemy. The mighty Rocky Mountains loomed before them.
Lewis, Clark, and Ichabod all simultaneously sighed. "We could try crossing." Clark suggested after a moment's silence.
"It cannot be done with the number of supplies we have, and to discard them would be folly." Ichabod said, lowering the mood even more. "We must go around."
"If we must." Lewis said sadly.
It was a long journey but they made it through the trials and finally reached the Pacific Ocean in the November of 1805. Ichabod journeyed up to the waves and felt the cool spray on his face. He felt good. He felt as if he had finally accomplished something and that his existence was not meaningful. He had brought the expedition through thick and thin with his survival skills.
They rested in the west until March 23, 1806, almost two years after they had set out from St. Louis. Ichabod said his farewells to both Meriwether Lewis and William Clark. He also apologized for not leading them safely back home, though he knew they would get along fine without him this time around.
"Sorry, my friends. I must make this journey alone. I must go back to there from whence I came. I fled like a coward, nay, lower when I was assaulted with what may have been a hallucination, but I know with all of my heart that it was not. I must face my fears and fulfill my desires of a meaningful life. Onwards, Rogue." With that, Ichabod rode of towards the sunset. To the peaceful town of Sleepy Hollow he rode to rid the world of a fiend that deserved not to exist.
"Headless Horseman, Beware!!!!!!!!!"