The Legend of The Beast

 

Written by Stuart Green

 

Intro & supplementary research

by Martin Pickering

Many theories abound regarding what our event name 'The Beast' actually represents. The tough terrain across Sutton Gault maybe, the exposed wide swathes of the Fens, or the relentless heat of the sun on your back with no place to hide, perhaps, or even the Fen Tiger? All these theories had merit until now

 

 

Having recently unearthed the old manuscripts written many many moons ago in a now largely forgotten bygone fenland dialect, recording the myths and legends of the Cambridgeshire flatlands, we are now able to tell the true story of THE BEAST.....

 

 

Many years ago, in a time we call The Olden Days, the Beast arrived. A medium sized, ugly scaly creature but with a heart made from pure gold. The swamps of East Anglia were the perfect place for such a beast to settle, the damp and murky conditions fitted nicely with the Beast’s idea of fun. Wallowing about in the mud by day and lying back and smiling at the vast and endless sky as the stars blinked and lit up his eyes.

 

 

One day though everything changed for the Beast. He could see them but was unaware what they were. Strange

creatures walking on only two legs, with their tools and sweat and endless toil. Gradually, the landscape began to change, the swamps that the Beast loved so much, eventually receded, leaving fields ripe for ploughing and sewing. Quietly the Beast retreated to his lair and slept on.

 

 

Then, many years later, the Beast heard strange noises that he did not recognise. He opened one eye slowly, then the other. He peeked round the edge of his lair and a strange sight greeted him. Through the mist came another one of those strange creatures. This time, however, it was different. Instead of the dark coverings of labour, were bright colours and the two legs were there for all to see. Their movement also was different, quicker somehow and a strange breathing rhythm could be heard too. Then from the mist came another, and another until the path that crossed the Beast’s lair became heavy with these creatures as if they were in some sort of hurry.

 

 

Beast liked the look of what he saw. He smiled, stretched and joyfully met them on the path. Some of these strange creatures looked at the Beast in disbelief and for a few, a strange roar emanated from their mouths.

 

 

Then Beast quietly slipped back into his lair. “I wonder if they will be back?” he thought, “I only want to be loved”.

 

 

They were, and he was.

Can you tame it?