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Resisting Fate - Part One of Three
Date: 8/6/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Poppet, Rating: 49, Source: LushStories
I spent the warm season hunting beaver along the shores of the great river. The hunt was good, but too many days had passed and each one was now shorter than the last. Cold winds were already blowing from the North and soon the white snows would be falling from the sky. I knew that if I were to return to my home fires before thick drifts filled the land, I would be forced to cut through the rolling hills of the Arapaho. It was a brisk morning, and the skies were painted with the deepest blue. I was riding my pony, staying in the low valleys between the hills, when I saw the smoke rising in the distance. I knew I should have taken it as a warning, but I am a warrior and became curious as to what had caused this fire. I resolved to go toward this smoke and see its source for myself. This was dangerous because I am of the Crow and there is great traditional rivalry between our people and the Arapaho. I did not seek war that day, so my intent was only to satisfy my curiosity and then to pass as unnoticed as I may. With this thought in mind, I rode my pony near the crest of the hill until I was able to see what was happening in the valley below. The fire was coming from the remains of a wooden lodge of the kind the Whites prefer. Their farm had been tilled across the land, but now it was nothing but a smoking ruin. Four warriors of the Arapaho were scouting the remains and collecting the spoils of their raid. I had no more love for the Whites than I have for the Arapaho, and ... these Whites had arrogantly built their home in lands that were not theirs to farm. This was not my concern and I was about to leave when I heard the woman scream. One of the warriors was dragging her from some hidden place under their lodge. Her shrieks of fear carried easily up to my hill top. The four warriors whooped excitedly at their good fortune, and I knew then she was in a danger that went far beyond the loss of her life. I reminded myself that this was the land of the Arapaho, and that I was as much an intruder here as the white woman. I was but a single warrior and would be a fool to interfere, but my mouth filled with a bitter taste. It was the taste of cowardice and it sickened me deep in my belly. I could not stand and watch while such a dishonor took place. I have seen such evil done by the whites, of course, but to stand by while the people of the plains acted like them chaffed me. It was not something I could allow. I lifted my bow and kicked my pony on, riding hard toward the four. My war call carried on the wind and caught the four by surprise. I was almost within bow range before they lifted their rifles. Leaning over the side of my horse, I gave them as small a target as possible. In their shock at being attacked by a lone brave, they hurried their shots and the bullets whistled past. I rose on my pony and let fly my first arrow, striking one of them hard. I turned and circled, ducking behind my pony's body again as the remaining three tried desperately to ...