Short Story: Peace Maker

Short Story: Peace Maker

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

All the braves were out hunting that afternoon when the raiding party arrived. Merciless Bear, the chief of the tribe, had ordered all able bodied men and strong squaws to accompany the hunting party as they needed to store a lot of meat for the coming winter. The Shaman had warned them it would be the worst cold season since White Mountain had shed its powder and buried a whole tribe so many moons back.

So when the horsemen raided, they had already scouted the village and established that there would be little resistance. They killed the old men and squaws, raped the young ones and packed all the food they could carry, tying any animals fit to travel on the rumps of their horses or on the one wagon they had left atop a hill overlooking the village. There were a few goats, two donkeys and several ponies not yet fit to ride for grown men.

The raiding party had been planning the raid for weeks, and did not expect the Indians back that evening; well, at least not that early in the evening. What actually pulled the stitches out of the cloth of their plan was a wounded buffalo that had strayed from the herd, probably kicked out by a new domineering young male.

The hunting party, already laden with several smaller animals, had found it just five kilometers from their village and White Lightening had felled it with his bow from seven hundred yards, before it could sense their presence with certainty and maybe attempt to limp away. White Stuff, Chief Merciless Bear`s son born with some white in his hair, tackled the skinning job because he was the best at it, albeit the youngest hunter at fifteen.

With the others helping here and there, White Stuff had the job done in about one and a half hours, including severing parts of the animal in easy and carry-able chunks. The intestines and other organs, excepting the heart which went to the hunter who killed the animal, were secured into the still soft hide. They had cheered White Lightening as he savored the warm heart and licked his fingers.

Because they had very few horses, most of the meat was to be carried by the braves and the few squaws back to the village. Everyone looked forward to a hearty meal, and they were even mooting the idea of going back to hunt for more buffalo the next morning; after checking on their traps.

In total, they had five horses, yet their party had eleven braves and four squaws. They were so engrossed in old Charging Bull`s stories that it was not until they were almost on the village that they sensed there was something wrong. Immediately, Chief Merciless Bear made a sign and the horsemen set off at a full gallop. As they rode up the hill to look down on their village, they notched arrows in practiced motions, their animals guiding themselves toward possible danger.

Cresting the hill, they saw the departing party on the other hill, almost three kilometers away. The younger braves started to go after the disappearing party but the chief stopped them, telling them they had to check on their people, see if any needed help; save as many as they could.

They all noticed the raiders had not burned the village, and that was quite strange. As they got closer, they saw a man struggling to get his horse to move faster as it pulled two donkeys they used for fetching water from a nearby stream. When they saw him, he was less than a kilometer away so they gained on him fast.

White Lightening, the fastest and sharpest shooter in the tribe, aimed. When his target was just about five hundred yards away, he let go the arrow and the riders followed at a much slower pace. There was no doubt in any of their minds that the Longnose would fall, and then there would be a toss for who got to scalp him.

The arrow shot into the air at an angle, first seeming to aim at Great Eye, then curving back to earth and going directly for the lone rider. The Longnose looked back and seemed to think if he rose up in the stirrups he could spur his horse into a better pace. All he did was save his life, for the moment, and make the arrow embed itself into the left rear flank of his horse. Its leg gave and they tumbled to the ground. By the time they stopped tumbling, the braves were ten yards away. No one attempted to come back for him and no brave attempted to follow the raiders. Soon it would be dark and people (especially cowards like the Longnoses) easily laid ambushes to odd out the evens.

As they trotted back to their village and the carnage left there, their prisoner in leather thongs (around the wrists and ankles) hobbling along reluctantly, the loud sticks went off bringing down all the larger structures in the village. Now the Indians understood why the last Longnose had remained behind; he had been planting loud sticks!

Some of the braves cried as more of their people died in the blasts. White Stuff jumped down with a hunting knife and went for the prisoner but Merciless Bear stayed him with a gesture of his hand. There was no expression on the chief`s face as usual and no one was sure what was going on in his mind. But no one in his right mind doubted his wisdom, strength and courage.

They buried their dead by torch and danced a funeral ritual, then the Shaman did his thing, sending off their spirits to the Great Beyond. Merciless Bear ordered a special stockade to be built for their prisoner in the middle of the now nonexistent village.

For six months, as they rebuilt their village, the Longnose stayed in the open. What saved him in the seventh month was a warm winter with hardly any snow in it. Half Moon, Chief Merciless Bear`s other child, was responsible for giving him one meal a day and during the winter she asked for permission to throw a buffalo hide over his shoulders.

Once in a while, when no one was looking, she sneaked warm water laced with sage leaves to him. As months went by, the braves and other squaws had to start hunting again. Half Moon volunteered to stay and watch the prisoner and because she was good with a fire stick and had her own bow and arrows, her father reluctantly agreed. They needed the meat but also wanted to keep the prisoner.

No one came to rescue the Longnose, apparently everyone in his party assuming him to be dead and scalped, maybe not necessarily in that strict order. But Chief Merciless Bear, for some reason, kept him alive. None of the Indians even knew anything about him, he spoke in a funny way and now that the weather was getting hot again, his skin was no longer pale. They wondered what made his skin change color; maybe he was some sort of shaman for his tribe?

Though they noticed his skin changing, none of them noticed the soft way the Longnose and Half Moon looked at each other when no one was looking. Soon, the two started making love right there in the stockade soon as the hunters disappeared below the hills.

“You killed my people, yet I have fallen in love with you,” Half Moon whispered as they made love.

“I never knew savages are this sweet, my God!” groaned the Longnose. “Pity soon as I`m sure there is enough meat to last me several weeks in the wild I`m going to kill you and escape.”

“Maybe we should run away and start a family far away from here? What will your people think of me?”

“If I had a horse I would kill you right now and take my chances.”

Months later, Half Moon realized she was not bleeding anymore. In fact, she had not bled for months! What was she going to do? One morning when the rest left as usual, she went into the stockade. This time she did not leave her weapons outside, she trusted the Longnose. Besides, she wanted to tell him that she was expecting his child and that her father, brother and the whole tribe would kill them both if they found out. She wanted to make plans to put some meat together and escape.

She explained as she gestured to her stomach. He smiled, thinking: you are worried about a stomach upset…you should be worried about your life because today you die.

She told him they should leave together, that they would build a tepee somewhere far away and hunt for food, that she was a good hunter and trapper. She touched his hand and then pointed far off into the distance.

“Yes, I have to go but because you just might shoot me in the back, I have to kill you first.”

He pulled her into a fierce hug then pulled one arrow from her quiver and pushed it into her side. Because she was a warrior`s daughter, her instincts took over before the pain paralyzed her. She drew her hunting knife and pushed it into his left ribcage, penetrating straight to his amazingly strong heart.

“What…,” he started to ask then collapsed. She let him drop to the ground but as he did, the arrow broke off. It was a normal arrow facing one way so she knew someone would pull it out, if she did not die waiting.

As it happened, old Charging Bull had a case of his stomach running faster than a scared deer so he returned shortly after they left the village. He sliced her side open farther then pulled out the arrow and sawed her up then applied some herbs to dull the pain and also speed up healing.

As her side healed, her stomach grew bigger. She wanted to run away but couldn’t as she was very tired of recent and even the smallest of tasks really fatigued her. Yet she couldn’t confide into anyone. She started praying and hoping that she would die in child birth.

In three months, the labor pangs started. All the women gathered around her, Dancing Rabbit taking charge as the oldest squaw in the village now. Eight hours later, Half Moon gave birth to a healthy bouncing baby girl. They named her Bright Sunshine. He skin was very pale.

“Now tell us who the father is,” ordered Morning Light, Half Moon`s mother.

For a long time she kept quiet. Then she spoke up and said, “Her father is dead.”