11-18-2022, 08:33 PM
BREED
Part 3
Nomad
As we head towards the Shoshone encampment Ta-Nay relates how life has changed for the tribe since being forced to leave their ancestral home and hunting grounds by the Blue Coats. Life has become nomadic in that the tribe must seasonally move for sources of food and overwintering. This more frequently brings the tribe into conflict with our enemies, the Cheyenne.
At high noon it has become so hot that we seek the shade of some riverside trees. After helping the injured Ta-Nay to a small clearing and watering the Appaloosa I decide to strip off my loincloth leaving just my sheathed knife hanging from my waist thong and enter the cool river water. I submerge my head fully and feel the support of the flowing waters surrounding me. When I emerge I see two Cheyenne braves running at me from the opposite side of the river. They too are naked but for their waist thongs but their knife sheathes are empty as they are each brandishing their knives as they run through the water towards me. One is about two summers older than me and the other younger than myself, they have red and black warpaint stripes over their prominent cheek bones and long black braided hair held in place by leather head bands. Their running naked bodies are lithe like two cougars and their cocks rhythmically slap against their muscular inner thighs as they run at me, the resulting water spray wetting their now glistening copper bronzed lean bodies. I pull my knife and crouch in readiness to meet their attack. The older one meets me head on slashing his blade in an attempt to inflict initial damage before getting closer. As I parry his assault I notice the younger and inexperienced brave stands off but circles us to make frequent stabbing actions at me in an attempt to assist his tribal brother. I now lunge forward at the older one, attempting to defensively hold off his knife while stabbing at him with mine. However, as I do the younger brave’s knife slashes across my left bicep which weakens my defensive hold on the knife hand of my attacker. He is also holding off my knife hand as our naked wet torsos clash against each other. My defensive arm is now weakened and my opponent knows it, so as his blade slowly makes its way towards my belly I feel his manhood swell against mine in the anticipation of gutting me. As I found out fighting the other Cheyenne they are not used to the fighting style of the pale skins, so I quickly bring my knee up into the brave’s balls which makes him yelp in pain as he backs off clutching at his crotch while still holding his knife at me. Then, like wolves, both Cheyenne braves start to circle me slowly getting closer as I turn this way and that to hold them off. Suddenly >THWUUMP< an arrow embeds itself into the muscled left thigh of the younger brave “AYIIEEEE!” as he crumples into the shallow water. The older brave then snarls and makes a war cry “YAHAYAHO!” as he rushes at me. My left arm being weakened I am unable to counter the force of his assault and am knocked backwards into the shallows of the river. He lands atop of me as our wet naked bodies squirm against each other in a deadly struggle to stab into each other’s vitals. The Cheyenne snarls, “Green eyed snake die at hands of Chowta!” I feel the hot breath from his snarling face as we again attempt to hold off each other’s knife but he knows I am weakened by my arm wound and soon I feel the tip of his knife enter my left side and I cry out, “NNNGGGGG!” as I desperately try to stop the blade cutting in any further. Sensing victory the Cheyenne is clearly aroused and as I writhe under him I feel his whole body tense as his stiff manhood starts to explode its seed over my belly. As the indian spasms I act quickly and with a surge of force thrust my own knife into his left abs >SHKKT< “URRRGGGHHH!”. I follow through by turning to my left causing his body to role off me a little and, pulling my blade from his side, I thrust it into his outie navel as his tensing abdominal muscles put up a firm but futile resistance to the entry of my blade. He then lifts his head to cry out “ARRRGGGHHH!” as my blade enters deep into his viscera and I too shoot my victorious seed over his bleeding belly. As I roll him belly up in the shallows I stab him again in his quivering lower abs and twist the knife until his writhing subsides, our blood and seed mixing in the shallow water.
Clutching at my bleeding side I search the water for the younger brave but notice he has dragged himself out of the river towards the tree line and is now propped up against a tree. I then see Ta-Nay with an arrow notched in his bow slowly approaching the Cheyenne. The war painted Cheyenne’s chest and belly is heaving with pain and the fear of being cornered by his enemy. I then see Ta-Nay draw the bow at the injured youth and I shout, “NO TA-NAY!” He responds by lowering his bow by which time I am now between the Cheyenne and Ta-Nay. The Cheyenne is pressing himself tightly against the tree holding his knife at us trying not to show his fear. I say to Ta-Nay, “Why kill him when he is no longer a threat to us?” He replies, “He is unable to walk and in this wilderness will soon die, if we take him with us he will be killed by our people.” I kneel near to my young enemy who feigns a knife lunge at me and then he says, “Snake people no kill Grey Wolf!” I sheathe my knife and point at the arrow in his thigh and say, “We not kill but Grey Wolf need arrow out of leg, Tontoo help Grey Wolf but Grey Wolf give knife to Tontoo.” The youth’s eyes search mine then he fixes Ta-Nay who responds by laying his bow on the ground. I hold out my hand and slowly Grey Wolf places his knife, still tipped with my blood, into my hand.
Under Ta-Nay’s guidance I gather the herbal plants he needs, then a small fire is made. After the knife’s blade is heated in the fire I encourage Grey Wolf to bite down on a wooden stick while Ta-Nay cuts the arrow head from his thigh. As the Cheyenne bites hard upon the stick against the pain his whole body contorts and is drenched in sweat. Finally Ta-Nay manages to remove the arrow head and applies the herbal dressings to the wound which I wrap with some saved linen. The enemy youth then closes his eyes and collapses through pain and exhaustion. Ta-Nay says, “He is lucky that his muscular thigh stopped the arrow doing too much damage.” “As long as he is found by his people his youth will see him survive this.” “Now warrior let me clean and dress your wounds!”
After Ta-Nay has finished I search the area where the two Cheyenne had come from. I find food, bows and arrows, short spears and discarded loincloths. It seems these two were doing as I was, cooling off from the midday heat when they saw me. I recover all items and return to Ta-Nay and my enemy. Grey Wolf has regained consciousness and is clearly in less pain. I place the recovered items by his side and place his own knife in the sheath hanging from his thong. Our eyes again meet but instead of fear there is an unspoken acceptance of the truce between us. As we leave the injured Cheyenne youth behind we cannot know for sure he will survive. While I lead the Appaloosa with the mounted Ta-Nay he says, “Nameless warrior let Cheyenne enemy know name, why?” I reply, “To help him I needed him to trust me.” Ta-Nay replies wryly, “And what of your own people warrior, should they not be able to trust you also?” I ponder this for a moment but choose not to respond but am aware that Ta-Nay is smiling to himself.
Before sunset I see the silhouettes and long shadows of four indian riders boldly traversing a nearby hill top and then I see Ta-Nay signal to them before they make downhill towards us. All four are scantily clad just as I and clearly know Ta-Nay and while two attend the injured Ta-Nay the other two slowly circle their ponies around me. Then one, halting his pony, leans down to peer directly into my eyes, then suddenly sitting up tall laughingly says to the other, “His eyes are as green as grass!” Which makes the other laugh too as he now leans down towards me to get a closer look. Then I hear Ta-Nay sternly say, “Stop teasing our brother and get us back to our encampment!” One mounted Shoshone holds his hand out for me to grab to mount his pony behind him while another leads my Appaloosa with the injured Ta-Nay and we set off at a canter. It is not long before we enter the Shoshone encampment and I realise my heart is pounding being unsure of my reception by my half blood people.
As we dismount and Ta-Nay is helped down I realise I have been allowed to keep my weapons and then I am surrounded by a group of curious children who also show amusement at my green eyes. Yet I still see a look of distrust in the faces of some of the warriors I pass as we are led towards the centre of the encampment. I also take in the hive of activity around three buffalo carcasses being industriously reduced to usable hides, meat, fat and bone, the product of a recent successful hunt.
As we enter an open area surrounded by teepees I am conscious that the whole encampment seems to have gathered to find out more of this green eyed stranger. Then from a larger teepee, adorned with colourful depictions of a buffalo hunt, a mature warrior emerges and, from his stature and manner of those around him, I guess he is the Chief. He approaches Ta-Nay in greeting and obvious concern for his injuries but I am unable to hear what they discuss, however, I notice that as Ta-Nay speaks the Chief makes occasional glances at me. Then the Chief himself beckons me over to them. He says, “I am Chief Proud Feather and you have our gratitude for helping Ta-Nay but we would know the name of our Shoshone brother?” The silence is deafening as I see a sea of Shoshone faces straining to hear my response. Surely the term halfbreed would be offensive to them let alone just Breed! Ta-Nay had earlier got me to speak of trust, so, before what seems to be a gathering of the entire Shoshone nation I loudly say, “TONTOO! I am Tontoo.” Proud Feather responds, “Welcome to your people Tontoo!” “Now your wounds must be tended and later you can tell us of your life’s path that brought you back to your people.” While the Chief was speaking I could hear mutterings and my name being repeated by some of those gathered.
Later, during the early evening, I relate my life’s history and the massacre of the men of my village including my father. Chief Proud Feather knew of this and relates how life for tribes other than the Shoshone had also changed in the ten years since and of their resistance to being corralled within a reservation, their life now being that of nomads. Then Proud Feather says, “Tontoo, there are some here from your village who remember you, unfortunately your mother was also killed during that massacre trying to save your brother.” My…my brother… yes…yes; my suppressed memories flood my brain. I say, “Unka!… Unka would have been six summers when I last saw him and if he’d survived he’d be a fine young warrior today.” Ta-Nay, puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “Tontoo my friend Unka IS a fine young warrior, he was not killed with your mother and when he returns from a hunt you shall be reunited.”
The following morning I am tending to the Appaloosa when I see the Chief’s son, Red Knife, who Ta-Nay had pointed out to me last night. He is about thirty summers with a thick set, powerful build and an arrogant bearing. He makes straight for me and sneers as he puts his hand over his sheathed knife and says, “You are an outsider, a halfbreed, when I am Chief there will be no place for your kind here, until then keep out of my way!” He then barges into my shoulder intending to walk off but I push back against him which makes him lose balance and stumble. He quickly regains his feet and immediately pulls his knife against me. I draw my knife in defence as we start to circle each other, Red Knife making stabbing and slashing actions trying to find a weakness in my defence, it is clear that he intends to kill me if he can. As he makes a forward stabbing action I grab his knife arm tightly and immediately thrust my knife hand towards his hard belly. However, what strikes his belly is my fist wrapped around the handle of my knife when the dull slap of a fist on tensed muscle is heard and Red Knife doubles up and groans. Knowing it would not go down well if I killed the Chief’s son on only my second day I throw my knife aside and attempt to disarm him but he recovers and we are suddenly locked in a deadly struggle to gain control of his knife. Red Knife is stronger than me but I am more agile as I manage to land a few more punches in his gut. Then I find myself backed hard up against a lodge pole which winds me and allows Red Knife to get his muscular left forearm across my throat trying to choke me. While I try to free his forearm from my throat with my right hand, I realise I am losing the battle to stop him from stabbing me in my belly and as he snarls into my face I feel the tip of his knife against my navel… Suddenly… >THWUMP< as an arrow lands at his feet… He looks over to see his father notching another arrow to his bow and releases me. After that we both try our best to avoid each other but it shows that not all Shoshone are as accepting as some.
During late morning there is a lot of excitement as a hunting party enter the encampment and I eagerly try to work out which one is Unka. There are three youths in the hunting party of six and they are clearly in good spirits as they lead two ponies backed with a number of gutted deer carcasses. I do not wish to embarrass my sixteen summers brother in front of his friends so I stay back. Then Chief Proud Feather approaches the hunting party and talks with one of the youths before gesturing in my direction. This must be Unka, my brother Unka! I see Unka stare straight at me, would he know me? He was only six and I eight when I was taken. Then Unka walks towards me as we both eye each other up seeking recognition. Unka is indeed a fine young warrior with a sinewy physique much like me at his age. His skin tone is more like that of a full blood Shoshone but his hazel eyes give away his true heritage, being a mix of our parents. Then we stand face to face neither knowing what to say, so I place my hands on his shoulders and he does the same and says, “Brother?” Holding back a flood of repressed emotions I reply, “Yes Unka, I am your brother Tontoo.”
For the next ten months I strengthen my bond with not only Unka but with the tribe. I teach Unka how to be a better fighter by using a combination of wrestling and boxing and he teaches me to hunt. For the first time since I was eight I have a sense of belonging.
In that ten months we have moved our encampment twice and as we head back into summer it is time to move once again to the hunting grounds where I first encountered my people. Chief Proud Feather summons myself, Unka and two other young braves to task us with scouting the old encampment grounds before the tribe arrive. So it is that me, now nineteen, and Unka and the other two at seventeen proudly undertake this important task for our Chief and people.
I take my Appaloosa while the others mount coloured ponies. We are also armed with bows and arrows and short stabbing spears but I still have Sam’s revolver which I keep out of sight. Out of the four of us I am the only one to have killed an enemy, the others only counting coup upon close contact with an enemy during brief skirmish encounters. However, that was enough to show their bravery even though more experienced warriors would have always been nearby. Now, at seventeen, they are treated as any other warrior but long to spill their first blood of an enemy in battle.
By high noon it seems a strange coincidence that we reach the very same spot on the river where I encountered the two Cheyenne, Chowta and Grey Wolf. Here we water the horses and I let Unka and the others cool off in the river but insist they keep their knives with them. I do not enter the water but stand guard over them with the revolver to hand searching for any sign of movement through the trees. Nearby I find the spot where we left the injured Grey Wolf, he would now be Unka’s age if he survived, I just hope he got back to his people.
After leaving the river we continue our scouting and to our relief soon spot a large herd of buffalo on the plains. As we approach the old encampment grounds we near the top of a shallow hill when I spot a group of five Cheyenne on foot. I task Running Fox to keep the horses low while myself, Unka and Timoway crawl on our bellies to the rise of the hill. We see three seasoned warriors and two youths all armed with bows and arrows. Seeing this opportunity as a way of proving his manhood Unka excitedly says, “We kill Cheyenne enemy with arrows, spears and knives!” I reply, “No Unka! We were sent here to scout not fight.” Unka gives me a defiant look as if considering to disobey his older brother so I say, “Only a fool would rush into a fight where he is outnumbered!” Suddenly! >TWUUUMP< as an arrow lands too close for comfort and we see another Cheyenne youth on the next hill with bow in hand now alerting our presence to his tribal brothers below with the call of the crow, “Caw Kraa! Caw Kraa!” An arrow fired by Timoway makes him dive for cover. As we look down we see the war painted party making their way towards our position in a crouching stance with bows primed to fire. I tell Unka and Timoway to notch an arrow with me and aim for the lead Cheyenne warrior. I say, “Now!” as the three of us rise just enough to let loose our arrows? The lead Cheyenne warrior instantaneously receives two arrows, one in his left breast and the other in his upper abs as he is spun around before falling to the dirt. We just manage to get back down before a hail of arrows fly over our heads. Unka curses his failure to hit the enemy! I call for us to mount up but then I see Unka making his way, knife in hand, to where the isolated Cheyenne youth was taking cover. I call for him to return but he choses not to hear me. I silently curse my young brother as now we will have to engage the Cheyenne in battle.
Knowing the horses will give us an advantage, myself Timoway and Running Fox mount up. By my estimate the group of Cheyenne will by now be just the other side of this hill. I get the other two to spread out and then give the signal to ride over the brow of the hill to engage with the Cheyenne. As soon as we clear the brow of the hill the four remaining Cheyenne are immediately below us and they scatter as we ride straight at them wielding our spears in a stabbing action. To avoid them using their bows we must keep at close quarters so we tightly turn back on them. Running Fox stabs his spear at a young Cheyenne brave impaling his left shoulder and, as Running Fox turns his pony, he follows through with a deep thrust just above the brave’s navel causing him to dig at his belly as he falls. One of the Cheyenne warriors gets an arrow notched to his bow and fires… The young Timoway is hit in his right breast knocking him backwards from his pony. As he rolls to a halt two Cheyenne braves are upon him like wolves and he is stabbed many times in the belly and chest. Seeing this I reach for Sam’s revolver and take aim and fire at the warrior that brought Timoway down. The nearly naked Cheyenne is hit in the centre of his chest and, clutching at his breast, is dead by the time he hits the ground. As I target the remaining seasoned Cheyenne warrior he already has his bow levelled at me. Without taking proper aim I fire the revolver grazing his left bicep causing his bow to drop and the arrow to fall short of my position. When I try again he is running, knife in hand, full at me. I take steady aim… but… nothing… the revolver has jammed! I quickly grab my short spear and dismount slapping the Appaloosa’s hindquarters to shoo it away so no Cheyenne can mount him. As the Cheyenne, knife raised, runs at me I thrust towards his exposed naked belly. The spear tip enters his lower belly at his loincloth waistband >SPFLITTT< which severs the strap causing his loincloth to fall away as the spear tip punctures his copper bronzed hide and lower belly. His mouth opens emitting just a guttural growl as the widening spear head makes a larger incision in his belly and starts to slice through his intestines. As he rigidly spasms he clutches at the spear’s wooden shaft, his face contorted in pain as his blood flows over and off his semi erect manhood. As I see one of the young Cheyenne braves levelling his bow towards me I let go of the spear just as the stricken warrior drops to his knees, swaying until he falls upon his side with my spear still in his guts. The Cheyenne youth starts to smile as he can see I have nowhere to take cover and am now only armed with a knife…
Meanwhile my younger brother Unka has been stalking the other young Cheyenne who alerted his group to our presence. Unka crawls on his naked belly towards where he believes the Cheyenne is but the Cheyenne has already seen him and with knife in hand runs straight at Unka. Unka can now see the Cheyenne coming at him and rises to meet his enemy’s assault, the momentum of the Cheyenne causes the two young indians to tumble down the long grassy slope. Locked together in a deadly knife fight their mostly naked sinewy bodies squirm together until they come to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the slope. Unka lands on his back with the war painted Cheyenne glaring down atop of him trying to plunge his knife into Unka’s breast. But the Cheyenne is suddenly distracted by the sight of his older brother being speared in the belly by me, Tontoo. Unka takes immediate advantage and jerks his knife hand free of the Cheyenne’s hold and in one action slashes his blade from right to left >SHKKT< across the Cheyenne’s firm belly just below his navel. The young Cheyenne cries out, “URRRGGGHHH! NNNGGGGH!’ as he grasps his belly trying to hold back the entrails now oozing from the long gash wound. Unka feels the hot blood and gore from the Cheyenne’s opened belly flowing onto him and, knowing the Cheyenne is as good as dead, rolls him off. Then Unka looks into the war painted aggressively handsome face of his defeated enemy whose brown eyes are full of pain and fear. Unka pulls the Cheyenne’s loincloth aside and caresses his stiff and drooling cock until it shoots its last seed. Then Unka sees that death has removed the pain and fear from the Cheyenne’s eyes.
As the young Cheyenne brave levels his bow at me he says, “Shoshone snake you die slow death with arrow of Swift Deer in your belly.” But the Cheyenne youth does not see what I can see… Running Fox has dismounted and has sneaked up behind the distracted Cheyenne brave. Suddenly, from behind, Running Fox puts the enemy brave in a tight choke hold and pulls him hard back which causes his abdominals to become rigid as they are stretched backwards. Then Running Fox pulls the Cheyenne’s own knife from its sheath and says, “Now Swift Deer die with his own knife in his belly!” Knowing what is to come Swift Deer squirms and bucks against Running Fox to free himself but… >SPFLITTT< his flexed muscular belly is penetrated by his own knife just above his navel as he emits a muffled groan. Running Fox stabs again which enters just below his navel, then once more right into his outie bellybutton. The Cheyenne’s struggling ceases and when Running Fox releases him he crumples to the ground.
I nod my appreciation to Running Fox and turn to seek out the rest of the Cheyenne. I find the gutted Cheyenne and know only one remains so I run to the top of a rise and, looking down, I see Unka and a Cheyenne youth circling each other with knives drawn. Then Running Fox joins with Unka in closing in on the outnumbered Cheyenne brave who desperately points his knife at one then the other as he tries to back away. As I approach them I look into the face of the Cheyenne and, despite his war paint, I make out the familiar face of the young Grey Wolf from the river fight almost a year ago. I call out, “NO! STOP!” They both hear me but choose to ignore my command. I draw my knife and approach the Cheyenne who, in his fear, fails to recognise me and instead makes a knife thrust in my direction. However, I immediately turn my knife against my own younger brother which makes both Unka and Running Fox stop dead in their tracks. Keeping one eye on the bewildered Cheyenne brave I explain how myself and Ta-Nay had spared the life of Grey Wolf and ask that they do so now. Before they can answer Grey Wolf says, “It is you Tontoo, Grey Wolf remember crazy green eyed Shoshone who save his enemy.” Both Unka and Running Fox look at each other in disbelief. Unka says, “My brother is weak, Unka kill enemy!” I reply, “If Unka or Running Fox try to kill this Cheyenne you will have to fight me first!” Unka asks, “What would my brother have us do with the Cheyenne dog?” I reply, “Let him go unharmed.” Running Fox says, “This enemy was one of those who killed Timoway, I will fight Tontoo before I let him go free!” Unka adds, “As will Unka!” After a long pause I say, “We will take Grey Wolf unharmed back to our village for Chief Proud Feather to decide on his fate.” As I say these words I am filled with dread for young Grey Wolf’s chances of survival but Chief Proud Feather is a honourable Chief and will listen to me and Ta-Nay. I am also angry with myself for failing to protect Timoway but things could have been so much worse. I then turn to Grey Wolf and say, “Give me your knife Grey Wolf!” Grey Wolf’s brown eyes search mine for trust much as they did that distant day near the river. I again say, “Your Knife!” Grey Wolf slowly passes me his knife which I place in my loincloth waistband. I look over this young Cheyenne and see that since my first encounter with him his chest is deeper and his bearing more proud, this with his prominent war painted cheekbones and intelligent brown eyes makes me admire my handsome young enemy.
Soon I task Unka and Running Fox to watch Grey Wolf and to prepare a travois to take Timoway’s body back to our encampment while I gather the Appaloosa and ponies. While I am gone however, Unka and Running Fox unsheathe their knives and hold them menacingly against Grey Wolf’s naked belly. Unka says, “Cheyenne dog stab our friend in belly now we stab you in belly until your guts spill out!” Running Fox jabs the tip of his knife into Grey Wolf’s navel just breaking the skin which makes him suck his belly in and grit his teeth in pain as a trickle of blood flows down his belly and over his loincloth. Then Unka also jabs the tip of his knife into the Cheyenne’s bellybutton, all three are so close they feel each other’s body heat. As the two knives are held against Grey Wolf’s navel his loincloth protrudes out as does that of both Shoshone braves. Then Running Fox pulls away Grey Wolf’s loincloth to expose his now drooling hard manhood and then exposes his own moist cock which he rubs against that of his enemy whilst keeping his blade against the Cheyenne’s navel. Now Unka holds forth his hard drooling manhood and starts to rub it against the other two. Soon all three are breathing heavily in rhythm until they each spasm and shoot a stream of man seed over each other. Then both Shoshone remove their knives from the Cheyenne’s navel and all three replace their loincloths as Unka says, “Unka and Running Fox will gut Cheyenne dog if Chief say you are to die!”
Later, with the travois in place and Grey Wolf on Timoway’s pony which is tethered to my Appaloosa, we head off back to the Shoshone encampment. As Running Fox rides alongside the young captive Cheyenne he unsheathes his knife and, holding it against his own naked coppery toned belly, draws it down from bellybutton to loincloth to indicate to the Cheyenne what fate awaits him.
As we approach the Shoshone encampment something isn’t right. There is the sound of slow repetitive drum beats and wailing women. Before we get to the central area we are met by Ta-Nay who informs us that old Chief Proud Feather had died of unknown causes and his son, Red Knife, is now Chief. Ta-Nay then says, “Tontoo, you and your brother must be wary as Red Knife will try to have you banished or killed.” “I do not hold out any hope that your young Cheyenne captive, who I see is Grey Wolf, will be spared either.” I reply, “My brother and I are Shoshone and we shall not be driven from our people!” “Grey Wolf is under my protection and I intend to defend him, if necessary, by the tribal right of Blood Challenge!”
Before we can make our way forward three riders approach, it is Chief Red Knife flanked by two seasoned warriors. Red Knife says, “Tontoo you and your brother are no longer part of this tribe so leave your prisoner and depart from here or join the Cheyenne in death!” I reply for all to hear, “I Tontoo, Shoshone from my father’s seed demand my tribal right to the Blood Challenge and will meet your chosen challenger in a fight to the death!” Red Knife replies, “You are not true Shoshone and have no such right but Red Knife want Tontoo dead by my own hand.” “Red Knife accepts Blood Challenge of green eyed half breed but know this, after I kill you your brother and the captive Cheyenne will suffer the long death of many arrows.” The Blood Challenge is set for noon the following day. Later in the evening Ta-Nay visits me to express his suspicions that Chief Proud Feather may have been poisoned by his son but he needs proof. Ta-Nay then says, “Red Knife is a powerful warrior who has already come close to killing you so avoid a battle of strength with him.” “May the great spirit bring you victory my friend.”
The following day the preparations for the Blood Challenge are well underway with tribal dancers circling the makeshift arena to rhythmical drum beats. Nearly everyone from the Shoshone encampment is present to witness this Blood Challenge. Myself at nineteen summers and Red Knife at thirty summers stand naked on opposite sides of the arena while our bodies are oiled by our seconds. My second is my brother Unka who, along with Grey Wolf, will be killed if Red Knife is victorious. Then, as Ta-Nay enters the arena, the drums fall silent and he says, “A Blood Challenge has been made and accepted between Chief Red Knife and Tontoo.” “The Blood Challenge is a sacred rite and all must honour it” “Once they enter the arena there can only be one left alive unless both are killed.” “If either tries to leave before the other is killed they shall be speared to death!” Then eight war painted warriors take up their positions which outlines the arena, each armed with a short stabbing spear. Ta-Nay continues, “If any try to interfere with the Blood Challenge they will be speared to death!” Then Ta-Nay says, “The sun is now at its highest and the Blood Challenge shall begin!” Then a single drum beat sounds…
As Ta-Nay leaves the arena myself and Red Knife enter it and stand facing each other so close that our manhoods touch and we feel the warm breath of the other. I notice how Red Knife’s oiled coppery bronze skin glistens in the midday sun as his powerful body seems to undulate as he flexes himself in readiness for battle. Our eyes fix and our deep breathing seems to synchronise. A single drum beat sounds again… and we turn away from each other and move towards our seconds on the edge of the arena. Our seconds hand us each a short stabbing spear and we turn on the spot to look at our adversary. Another single drum beat… and we hold our spears at each other and commence to circle, searching for any sign of weakness to exploit. Red Knife cries out a war chant, “AIIEEAHANAY!” as he rushes at me with a forward stabbing action of his spear. I manage to parry his spear with mine as I sidestep but he quickly follows through by swinging his spear back around at me. I try to move away but >SHKKT< as his spear tip opens up a bloody gash across my lower back and I wince in pain. Fixing me with his eyes Red Knife uses his fingers to wipe off some blood from his spear tip and puts them to his mouth to taste my blood as he sneers at me. I now stab towards his belly with my spear but only manage to graze his left side as he move away. Angrily he lunges at me and I do the same as we clash our spears together using our strength to try to get them clear and deep stab our opponent. I feel his superior power and know I must use my greater agility to my advantage. Suddenly I disengage from this trial of brut strength and, diving and rolling on the ground, I get behind him as he turns to stab at me. However, before he can I thrust my spear quickly upwards and stab into his belly, just to the right of his navel >SPFLITTT< and he yelps in pain. As I still feel the resistance of his tight abdominals I know I have not entered into his viscera as he pulls himself away. He stands holding his bleeding belly wound scowling at me as another single drum beat sounds and we both return to our seconds to exchange the spears for hunting knives.
As the drum sounds again we each take up a classic knife fighters’ stance and again start to circle each other. I know I must not get caught up in a test of strength with him or I will die, I must exploit my greater agility. He lunges at my midsection and I spring to the side while I slash upwards with my blade >SHKKT< cutting him across his left breast. He then runs at me again making me backup towards the arena’s edge which I must not cross. Then he’s upon me slashing his knife >SHKKT< which cuts from above my navel to my right side drawing a line of blood. We again face each other panting from both the pain and our exertions, our glistening bodies covered in many bleeding wounds. Again he runs at me trying to get my back to the arena’s boundary which I manage to sidestep but then I see him stumble, putting his hand to the ground to steady himself. Seeing this I quickly turn on him to attack… but as I do his free hand throws the dirt he had secretly picked up into my face and my vision is seriously impaired. I try my best to focus… then I see the glint of his knife’s blade and I am just able to defensively grasp the wrist of his knife hand. Before I can stab at him he too has grasped the wrist of my knife hand and we commence to struggle against each other in an attempt to overpower and stab our adversary; a struggle of strength which I cannot win!
Red Knife pushes hard against me and our oiled chest and bellies squirm together. His strength starts to force me to lean back and he takes a dominant position against me as our hardening and drooling manhoods rub together. My back feels like it will break and gradually but surely he pushes me backwards onto the ground and then he is straddling me pushing his knife towards my exposed naked belly while holding mine away. Even his cock is dominating mine which squirms underneath his. I glance over to see the shocked face of my brother and I know I cannot let him down, so I struggle and squirm with increased vigour against my opponent as I now bring my knife up towards his lower belly…However, his greater power once again halts my blade’s advance as he says, “When I have killed you your brother will suffer the long death of many arrows but before you die you too will suffer! Red Knife then totally overpowers my defensive hand against his knife and cuts into my skin and very slowly draws the tip of his knife across my lower abdominals. The pain is intense and as I writhe under him I cry out,“NNNNGGGG!” “URRRGGGHHH!” Suddenly my cock shoots forth a stream of my manseed which now mixes with the hot blood pulsing from my belly. I look up at Red Knife and see he has raised his knife high over his head in readiness to plunge it down deep into my viscera as I feel his cock rhythmically moving against mine, soon to express its final act of victory over me…
Suddenly, >THWUUNK< >SHOOOMP< as two arrows slam into Red Knife’s oiled and bloodied naked torso, one in his right breast and the other immediately above the navel. He sways from their impact with a shocked look on his face, yet he still has hold of his knife above my abdomen. I wrench my knife hand free of his faltering hold and thrust it up into his lower belly >SPFLITTT< and agitate the blade in his viscera until he drops his knife and emits a guttural, “GURRRNNNGGG!” Then his manseed shoots across my bloodied belly and chest before he folds backwards with his arms hanging out to his sides, yet he is still partly propped up by his straddling stance. As I drag my tortured body from under him he remains in that macabre way with the two arrows occasionally twitching to show that he still barely clings to life. I look at his face and realise his barely open eyes are still looking at me so I fix his stare but soon his eyes no longer see.
Although I am near collapse I look around bemused as to why I am not dead. Then my brother Unka runs to my side to support me, followed by Ta-Nay who says, “I got the proof I was looking for from a Shaman who mixed the poison that Red Knife used to kill his father.” “Red Knife’s actions break our tribal laws and defile this sacred Blood Challenge!” “Come Tontoo, we will have your wounds tended and will talk more when you have regained your strength.” It is then that I lost consciousness.
Two days later I awake and find my wounds tightly wrapped in herbal dressings. Through blurry eyes I see Unka sitting cross legged near to me. When he sees me regain consciousness he is beside himself with joy and says, “Brother, we thought we had lost you to your fever and blood loss but Ta-Nay summoned many Shamen to your aid.” Then Unka offers me food and drink, “Here Tontoo, you must eat and drink to make you strong again.” It is another day before I am strong enough to stand. Then Unka helps me into the centre of the encampment and my eyes are met by a sight I never expected. There smiling at me, resplendent in his chieftains headdress, is Chief Ta-Nay! He warmly greets me and we all sit cross legged on a blanket as both Ta-Nay and Unka explain how Ta-Nay was made Chief by the will of the Shoshone people. Then, flanked by two spear wielding warriors, Grey Wolf joins us and is clearly pleased to see my recovery. Unka says, “The Cheyenne only need guard to stop some Shoshone from killing him before we set him free but we not ready for him to go yet!” I then catch a glint in both the eyes of Unka and Grey Wolf.
A week later I am walking in woodland for exercise when I hear whooping and then grunting as if a fight is going on. As I work my way through the trees it gets louder until I see both Unka and Grey Wolf wrestling naked in a clearing. But then, to my horror, I see Grey Wolf atop of Unka holding a knife at Unka’s belly. I quickly unsheathe my own knife and start to rush forward to defend my brother. Then I see Running Fox nearby casually holding a bow with an arrow notched and I stop in my tracks in the realisation they are playing at knife fighting. They are taking turns to fight each other but because Grey Wolf is still an enemy they cannot fully trust him which probably adds to their excitement. They each have their tribal war paint applied to their faces to enhance the experience. Then, dropping his bow, I see Running Fox dive onto Grey Wolf’s back and wrestle him off Unka so he is belly up. Then, two on one, Unka follows through with a feign knife thrust into Grey Wolf’s bellybutton. I watch unseen for a bit longer in an understanding of why their firm manhoods ooze with the excitement of a successful ‘kill’.
Another week later and I accompany on horseback the three friends to the boundary between Shoshone and Cheyenne territory. I reach across and place my hand on Grey Wolf’s shoulder and say, “Today we part as friends, let us meet again as friends and not as enemies!.” Grey Wolf nods in agreement. Then both Unka and Running Fox start roughhousing with their Cheyenne friend when it is clear they really want to hug each other. Grey Wolf then holds his fist in the air and whoops as he crosses over into Cheyenne territory. He turns his pony back towards us for a last glance before spurring his pony on with a parting whooping which is enthusiastically joined in by Unka and Running Fox. As I watch Grey Wolf depart I silently ask the spirits to bring about peace between our peoples and for us to unite against the great flood of the pale skins.
We now turn and slowly ride back to our encampment and to my great joy both Unka and Running Fox start boisterously roughhousing with me and I am filled with a warm sense of belonging.
I am Tontoo! I am Shoshone! We survive!
The end
