Is-A-Man (A J.T. Edson Standalone Western) Page 11
Nevertheless, the punishment was not being delivered without retaliation!
There was no opportunity for Becky to make use of the training she had received and skill acquired as a member of Horace ‘Pug’ Brackley’s International Troupe of Lady Wrestlers. Instead, she too was instinctively using fists, knees and feet with completely impartial abandon. What was more, no matter where she hit, clutched, or otherwise attacked, it was upon the person of an enemy. To her advantage, due to the indescribable confusion and continual tangling of their bodies, each Comanche was frequently—if inadvertently—causing pain and damage to the others. In fact, such was the state of confusion and their continued close proximity, she was only responsible for one of the four Indians’ noses being bloodied and two of the six blackened eyes sustained by her assailants.
Furthermore, the combatants were not always fighting as a single group. On one occasion, the mound separated with three of them rolling away and, oblivious of their efforts being directed against one another, battling just as furiously together until coming up against Becky and her single attacker to make the mound complete once more. Later, another separation found her for a short while entangled with two of the girls before they and the other pair all merged again.
In addition to what was being inflicted upon her person, the brunette’s attire was subjected to equally indiscriminate damage. The wrap-around skirt was soon gone and her blouse disintegrated to leave her bare to the waist. Not only were the legs of her tights torn away, one completely and the other at knee level, the whole of their seat was wrenched out by wildly clutching hands. However, in spite of this, she fared better than two of her attackers. All four’s clothing was also severely damaged, not all of this being inflicted by her, but the loss of their dresses left the two completely naked without inducing them to quit the fray.
A full ten minutes of such unceasing combat thrilled and entertained the spectators!
Towards the end, inevitably, the strain began to take its toll upon the embattled quintet!
Movements became slower, grips weakened and blows diminished in force. Although all five continued to be hurt, none had sufficient breath to spare for crying out. Instead, croaking wheezes alone gave audible evidence of the punishment to which all were continually and indiscriminately being subjected by one another. In addition to diluting and partially washing away the blood each had flowing from nostrils and, in three cases, lips, the perspiration all were copiously shedding made their bodies slick and slippery. However, by rendering their breasts in particular difficult to retain when grasped, the wetting of their skin proved a blessing in disguise. On the other hand, regardless of their mutual suffering, not one of them showed the slightest indication of giving up the struggle.
‘That’s quite a wildcat you’ve brought back,’ a brave commented to Becky’s rescuer, watching the struggling girls for the third time separate into two mounds and, coming to their knees, she delivered a punch which landed sufficiently hard to stretch her totally naked opponent unconscious across the first attacker she had felled and who had been kept from returning to sentience due to having been rolled on by all five during the struggle. ‘She’s a woman of spirit.’
‘Yes,’ Singing Bear agreed, knowing the white girl’s attackers to be unmarried maidens who he suspected were respectively motivated by a desire to become his wife and were resentful of the possibility of an outsider having been selected to fill the position. ‘I saw that when she helped me against the Kiowas.’
Looking around instinctively, Becky discovered that the number of her attackers was reduced still further without requiring any effort on her part. One of the trio was sprawling on to her back and lay, arms and legs thrown apart. The only movement from her was the rise and fall of her bosom as her lungs automatically sucked in air. Seeing the other two were still feebly fighting with one another and paying no attention to her, the brunette was able to appreciate the opportunity she was being granted in spite of the exhaustion which welled through her. Forcing herself to get up, staggering in exhaustion, she went to where they were kneeling with interlocked fingers and engaged in a mindless test of strength. Grabbing them by the scruff of the neck and jerking them a little way apart, giving neither a chance to resist, she banged their heads together. Stunned by the impact, they went limp in her hands and, on being released, collapsed on to their backs rendered hors de combat.
Forcing herself to remain erect, in spite of hurting in every fiber of her being and reeling from exhaustion, Becky felt the elation she had come to know when emerging victorious in a serious wrestling bout against a local contender. Although she was unable to understand what was being said, gazing around, she realized the spectators were giving her the same kind of enthusiastic and admiring reception she had received even when it was a woman from the area she had defeated. Then the reaction set in and she crumpled to the ground. Nevertheless, she was just sufficiently conscious to feel herself being lifted and carried—by Singing Bear, she discovered later—through the enthusiastic crowd.
Nine – Hello, Annie Singing Bear!
The scene lit by the red glow of the nearby flames was much the same as had been enacted a countless number of times since human beings first learned how to make use of fire for warmth and illumination!
Laying supine on an extemporized bed of soft dry grass under the stars, held spread-eagled by Annie Wishart and three of her closest friends amongst the Indian women, Becky Ingraham felt the movements she had created by her muscular spasms descending lower in her abdomen. From what she had witnessed when other mothers-to-be were on the point of giving birth, she deduced the functions which had taken place within her during the past nine months were coming to fruition.
Just over a year had gone by since the brunette was brought to the village of the Pahuraix Comanches by Singing Bear!
Carrying Becky to his tipi at the conclusion of the fight, her rescuer had left her in the care of Annie and the medicine man and woman of the band. After stripping off her ruined tights and bathing her in cold water, they had stopped her nose bleeding and applied an oily lotion which smelled sweetly and did much to soothe away the pain resulting from the bruises which mottled her whole body. The problem of replacing her attire had been solved by selecting from the garments which had belonged to the warrior’s murdered wife and who, perhaps accounting for his behavior towards the brunette, had had a shorter, and more slender build than those of the more typical Comanche. Therefore, they were both much the same dimensions and few alterations had proved necessary to obtain a fit. While Becky had not been enamored of the prospect of wearing the dead woman’s garments, she had accepted there was no other choice. Her own clothing had been ruined in the fight and there was no other female attire amongst the loot taken from the Kiowas. An examination had established that the buckskin dresses were clean and, as time went by, she had grown accustomed to making do with the underclothing—little more than a simple loincloth for the rest of spring and summer—which was all that was available to go beneath them.
While seeming primitive in concept, the treatment had proved sufficiently effective to allow the brunette to accept an invitation by Singing Bear to a special kind of celebration the following evening. Acting as interpreter, Annie had explained it was known as a ‘Give-Away’ dance; being chiefly to thank Ka-Dih, the Great Spirit of the Comanches, for looking favorably upon him and allowing the successful conclusion of his quest for vengeance, but partly to honor the victory she had had over the five girls. From what she was told, the latter had proved most beneficial to him. Remembering how she had come to his aid against the Kiowas, he had had confidence enough in her ability to bet heavily on her and the winnings, supported by the loot with which he had returned, ensured he could provide a good quantity of gifts to be presented on her behalf as well as his own to their guests.
The affair had been accounted a great success and had done much to start reconciling Becky to her future. Not only had she found herself treated with respect
and kindness, particularly after her rescuer had described the part she played in the fight with the Kiowas, but it had given her an insight into the way in which the Comanches relaxed and enjoyed themselves. She had discovered they were far from being the dour and vicious savages she had always heard was the case. Rather they had thrown themselves into the festivities with a gusto and amiability which had equaled anything she had seen displayed by people of her own race. What was more, at the conclusion, she had not been faced with one situation which she had been envisaging with dread. Taken back to the tipi by Singing Bear, despite her grave concern over them being its only occupants, he had made no attempt to press attentions upon her. What was more, they had continued to sleep in separate beds until a growing mutual respect and liking had turned to genuine affection.
On recovering from the effects of the fight, Becky had found herself faced with the most serious test of courage she had ever known. Her upbringing in Missouri had at first revolted at the thought of being compelled to live on terms of intimacy with a man who was neither of her race nor creed, but she had soon come to realize she might have been far worse off. What was more, accepting that any attempt to escape was almost certain to be thwarted and would probably result in changing Singing Bear’s attitude of kindly consideration to something much less pleasant, she had put the idea from her thoughts. She had also refused to listen to an inner voice claiming death was better than dishonor. Not only would such an act have gone against the religious principles with which she was imbued as a child, but nothing in the way she had been treated was sufficient inducement for her to contemplate seeking release by committing suicide. Therefore, being the kind of person she was, she had forced herself to adjust to what she sensed could be a long period—perhaps even being permanent—during which she would have to accept vastly different standards of behavior even than had been the case when she joined Horace ‘Pug’ Brackley’s International Troupe of Lady Wrestlers.
Having reached the conclusion, with Annie Wishart acting as willing guide and mentor, the girl had set about getting the best out of her new way of life. Except for incidentals such as the stays being somewhat longer, it did not change in one respect. Like all the Plains Indians, the Pahuraix never remained in one location for more than a few weeks at most. While almost as nomadic, despite there being no wheeled transport available, she had found travelling was not excessively more difficult and uncomfortable than it had been as a member of Brackley’s Troupe. She had also discovered her new accommodation might appear more primitive, but it offered some advantages over the wagon in which she had lived when moving from town to town. Developed as a result of the experience gathered by many generations of Comanches, in addition to being portable as was required by their mode of existence, a tipi could easily be kept cool in the heat of summer, was waterproof and well able to withstand the elements during winter.
Nor had she lacked companionship. Regardless of what she had expected, she had not been subjected to abuse or cruelty by the majority of the Indians. In fact, she had found herself able to make friends amongst the Comanche women and the girls with whom she had fought became the staunchest of them. Nevertheless, on three separate occasions during the first few weeks she had been compelled to defend herself against attacks by other female members of the community. In each case, being in contention against only a single adversary, her superior knowledge of wrestling and the use of her fists had brought her victory with an ease which did much to increase her status around the village. To ensure this remained and as a precaution to remove the desire of any others who might have harbored similar hostile feelings, she had let it be seen that she meant to keep up her fighting skill by giving instructions in bare handed combat to the young males as part of their training as warriors.
As the band moved from place to place, always seeking to make camp near water in the fashion which had produced one of its names, Becky had been taught by Annie and the others how to erect a tipi. They had shown her which kinds of vegetation and roots were edible and could be used as supplements to meat of various kinds when making a meal. Instruction had been given about gathering the necessary fuel, starting a fire without using the matches she had previously considered indispensible, and cooking on it. Her knowledge of needlework had been expanded to let her cope with the materials from which the Pahuraix made their clothing. She had also learned about the primitive, yet efficient, means of giving first aid for injuries and the employment of various herbs and plants for medication. All in all, although she had accepted it would be futile to try to put the various skills to use in an attempt to escape and return to her own kind, she had gathered much knowledge useful as an aid to surviving on the vast range which was still being traversed by the Pahuraix and other bands of Indians.
Ever eager to attain knowledge and quick to learn, the brunette had soon acquired competence at the various duties expected of her. In addition, by proving willing to carry out her share of whatever work was being done, she had increased her popularity. What was more, being constantly amongst people speaking nothing else—with the exception of the elderly white woman and half a dozen Mexican captives—she had quickly become fluent in the Pahuraix dialect of the Comanche language. Having a natural dexterity, helping to develop her acceptance and popularity, she had gained competence at the Nemenuh women’s sport of ‘kick-the-ball’. In a short while, her skill had developed to such an extent that she could soon compete against the best in hopping on the left foot while keeping a ball made of rags in the air by ‘dribbling’ it off the ground with the instep of the right until it was dropped when either remaining ‘on the spot’ or moving forward.
One problem Becky had faced, particularly as their own relationship had warmed, had been coming to good terms with an important member of Singing Bear’s family. As she had expected and had felt sure would have been equally the case if the roles were reversed, they clearly had reservations about his taking a white woman as a replacement for his murdered squaw. With the passing of time and the exhibition of her good qualities, his grandparents, father, brothers, sisters, aunt, uncles, nieces and nephews had grown to consider her as one of their own, albeit not in that order. However, as would probably have proved the case no matter what race was involved, gaining the approval of her Comanche mother-in-law had been more difficult. That she had achieved it eventually was a tribute to the effort she had put into doing so.
On the whole, while life had not been idyllic, it was far from the horrible nightmare Becky had been led to assume was the fate of a white woman taken captive by Indians. She worked harder than ever before and lived in an even more primitive fashion than when travelling with Brackley’s Troupe, but it was not a life of constant drudgery and misery. What was more, the hunting and other food gathering being good, she remained as well fed—albeit on food cooked in different ways and employing some ingredients she had not previously encountered—as she had ever been, no matter what her previous situation. Once she had grown accustomed to mounting from the right side, as was the custom of most American Indians regardless of their tribe, she had found her equestrian abilities were equal to the calls made upon them.
Discovering she was pregnant had proved a shock for Becky, although her closer relationship with Singing Bear had warned her of the possibility. Nevertheless, she had endured the travelling from location to location with a stoicism she had seen shown by other women in a similar condition. With the passing of time, although some of the heavier burdens were taken over from her by her friends as the development of the child inside her body had began to make itself more obvious, she had been grateful for the rugged state of her constitution and the work which had ensured she remained in excellent physical condition. Because of this, she had been able to continue riding a horse when on the move and to perform her less strenuous chores until receiving the signs which warned the birth was imminent.
The indications had started late on a pleasant afternoon. Called for by Becky, the medicine woman and Annie had pro
nounced the time was at hand, then made their preparations. Accepting pointed comments with good grace, although usually a warrior—particularly one who elected to accept the responsibilities and prestige of selecting the war lance as his main weapon—was at other times very much the ‘master of the house’, Singing Bear had taken his departure to spend the waiting period in the company of his closest companions. With the weather being so clement, it had been decided by the experienced helpers that the event should take place in the open. Everything had been made ready, including there being other female assistance available. These had proved necessary. The birth was not easy and the mother-to-be required support and restraint in the later stages.
After much pain, suddenly Becky felt something which moved thrusting itself between her parted thighs. There was a final convulsive motion and the firm, wriggling lump was gone. Despite a sensation of relief and a cessation of her suffering, she lay spent by the exertions of the delivery. She was too weak to even try to wipe away the perspiration which clouded her vision, much less attempt to sit up and find out if all was well with the baby. Before she could ask after its welfare, she heard a slapping sound and something which put her in mind of the yapping of a distant coyote. Then she realized it was originating from much closer and an understanding of what it must be flooded through her.
With the realization came anxiety!
For all their love of children, the Comanches did not allow an infant born deformed, diseased, or a weakling, to live!
Therefore, should the baby be other than healthy after its long struggle to leave the womb, it would be put to death regardless of how its mother felt upon the matter!