Running Bear Makes Millions Off Stolen Land - The Biggest Indian Scam Since Casinos

Running Bear Holmes, otherwise more popularly known as Harry the Horse, wore his hair long, tied neatly back but still conspicuously Indian. He kept a picture of White Wolf, Comanche chief known as the bloodletter of the plains, an Indian so savage that he raped, dismembered, disemboweled white settlers before beheading them, burning their corpses, and left them hanging on gibbets for the Union troops to see. 

 

Although in the end it was a losing battle, thanks to White Wolf and his brothers, hundreds of scalps and white women were taken. Nevertheless, although Indians might have been lords of the plains, there was nothing left except wampum, reservations, firewater, and turquoise trinkets.

Then came The Great Idea - in an era of white guilt and shame for the genocide of Running Bear's people, there was money to be made, and thanks to progressive angst, the Pequots made millions from the Foxwoods casino in Connecticut as did the Chickasaws and Choctaws in the West.  Ownership was made easy - all you had to do was to prove that you were an octoroon, one-eighth Indian and the State gave you totin' privileges to white cash. 

 

Savvy chiefs rounded up the financing, made easy thanks to their tax free status - i.e. the chances of profit were enhanced without a burdensome tax bill - and light oversight. The white men of Connecticut, having decided to indirectly pay reparations to the Indian, didn't dare to look carefully at the books.  So when Chiefs Rising Moon, Lie-by-Fire, and Evening Lightning went to Bear Stearns in New York, they were treated like visiting royalty. 

Investment bankers bowed and scraped, opening their doors and vaults to the Indians who they and their ancestors had so summarily annihilated. Each and every one of the delegation looked very Indian - the copper skin, long black hair, beaked nose, and Asian eyes - but the Armani suits were the perfect foil. 

These were redskins who had some Kemosabe savvy and good taste.  It didn't take long for the loan to be negotiated and approved.   

Now, a long time had passed since those heady days of the first casinos; but there was still enough residual white liberal guilt around for there to be money made.  In recent weeks the idea of 'stolen land' - Indian territory confiscated by white developers and turned into malls, shopping centers, and luxurious homes - gained currency.  Notable celebrities announced that they were going to divest themselves of their ill-gotten gains, do their moral duty, and return the property to the Indians from whom it was illegally taken.  

'Return' was a point of contention. It might mean giving the land back gratis, selling it at a heavily discounted price, or simply agreeing to transfer title but to sell at market rates.  Although progressives felt uncomfortable with all but the first option - after all, if their white ancestors had robbed the Indian of his land, it should be given back with no questions asked - there were many who insisted that there were no Roberts' Rules of Order when it came to reparations and current owners need not lose their shirts. 

The other issue, the big one, was to whom the land would be returned. Most Indians whose tribes had 'owned' land two hundred years ago were dead and buried or living in some shithole reservation, off the grid, drunk and homeless, so exhaustive DNA searches would be necessary to figure out who was an octoroon and who was fudging the record.  Wasn't all this 'native American' thing going a bit too far. Weren't a few casinos enough to show the world that we cared?

It just so happened that the Minnesota Somali childcare scandal was hitting the news.  They had been outed and the multi-billion dollar scam was surely over and heads would roll, but these Africans had bamboozled untold millions out of credulous state and local legislators for years. Why not take advantage of the whole DEI, don't-look, black and brown can do no wrong ethos, and make some money?

And so it was that Harry the Horse pimped himself up in feathers and warpaint and went to the states where Indians had lost the most territory to the Union.  'Stolen land' became an Indian meme, and these local governmental bodies were quick to respond. California had already passed legislation for black reparations, so strike while the iron is hot.  Rejecting Indian claims would be tantamount to racial discrimination.  

Harry and his braves made a quick trip to Minneapolis in supposed solidarity with the Somali scammers, but in reality to find out from the horse's mouth how they did it.  Naturally Abdi and his compatriots were wary of the Indians, but when told that they would be included in the schemes as junior partners, they opened up. 

 

There really was not much to reveal.  The white liberals they tricked were as clueless and addled by progressive cant to such a degree that anything black had to be a good thing . 'Just do a rain dance', said one Abdi to Harry the Horse, 'and you're in like Flynn'. 

The first sally of Harry and his band was to California, a state already used to the idea of reparations and home to over 200 native American tribes, and in a remote area of far Northern California, they found the ideal stomping ground - a modest-sized town built smack dab on top of Karuk Indian land.  It was only a question of generating political support (there had already been 'diversity' codicils put into eminent domain laws), picking a profitable, high-earning property, and send in tribal lawyers to finalize the deal. 

'There used to be a few Karuk around here', said a Councilman, 'but if they're still alive, they're on the rez'. 

'We don't need real Karuk', Harry replied. 'Just a few octoroons, sign them up in a class action lawsuit, and the rest will be as easy as pie'. 

'What's in it for us?' the Councilman asked, but Harry was well-prepared for the question.  Municipal, state, or reservation politics had all been the same - on the take, as shameless a bunch of cattle thieves, honest heirs of the Old West.  

'Plenty', he said. 

The news of the coming deal went public - the town council wanted to get Sacramento on their side, backing them in all legislative, legal, financial, and Constitutional matters.  The Governor was particularly pleased that Running Bear (he chose to use Harry the Horse's formal name) had chosen California to begin what he described was 'a long overdue recognition of the plight of the Native American who....'

Here the Governor launched into a prepared speech praising the great indigenous tribes of America, their contribution, and their valor for twenty minutes until he was hooked off the stage like a bad vaudevillian. 

It is too early to tell how the California-Karuk venture went, how easily the transfer of land went back to the tribe, and most importantly how much money changed hands; but if the Somali enterprise and the Foxwoods casino deal were any indication, Running Bear would soon be a very rich man indeed