Jessica Rabbit a Pirate Wench or
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Man, That Was Some Rabbit Hole!Chapter 6 free porn video
The next morning, true to his word, the war chief sent out flankers to the sides and to the rear to look for trouble. They were instructed not to fight if they could avoid it. Their job was to warn the column of any potential danger. Some of the men were disgusted with this waste of time and wanted to know whose hair-brained scheme this was. I admitted that it was my idea, but that did nothing to cut the grousing.
Nothing happened that day or the next, and it appeared that my idea was about to be shot down. Some men liked the assignment of being the flanker and some didn't. Those who liked the job took it seriously, but those who didn't were not doing shit to protect the column. As it happened, it was one of those who didn't give a shit who brought the warning to us barely in time.
He came riding over a low hill with an arrow in his back. With an arrow spoon, I could have removed it, but we had nothing like that, so the man died an hour or so later when his wife tried to pull the arrow out without the proper medical instruments.
He did manage to stay conscious long enough to warn us that we were about to be attacked by approximately 50-60 Comanches. If they had not been discovered, they would have ridden through our column using their lances on any person that they could reach, man, woman, or child. However, we did have some time to get ready. To my surprise, Chief and the war chief asked my opinion on what to do.
All I had to go on were the Western movies and TV programs that I had seen in my former life, but I did know that the Comanches could not ride through our people if we were closely bunched. Therefore, I recommended that all of the horses be brought together and the women and children be sheltered among them. I figured that the Comanches would try to salvage as many horses as possible, and they might be used in place of the wagons from the Westerns.
I suggested that the men be spread out around the bunched-up dependents and they should converge on the Comanches once we knew where they would be gathered. We had more warriors than the Comanches, so we had a reasonable chance if we could get to them. The two leaders agreed to try my strategy, since they had nothing better to offer. At least, then, if we were all killed, it would be my fault and not theirs, so they would have less to explain in the after life.
The men on horses were sent racing up and down the column ordering everybody to gather in a place specified by the war chief. I figured that he ought to take that responsibility, at least. The old men could still shoot arrows, so they were assigned the job of last ditch protection for the women and children. Us younger men rode about 50 yards away from the gathering and prepared to fight, first with our missiles, but later on in a hand-to-hand battle if we could entice or trap the Comanches into that.
The dependents and the horses were placed on the highest hill in the vicinity, but even that was not very high. However, every slight advantage was worth using. We had barely taken our positions when the Comanches showed up. I suppose that I am just stupid, I'm certainly not unusually brave, but I allowed myself to be placed directly in line with the expected charge of the attackers.
I had my atlatl and eight metal-tipped darts available. I was not going to waste my time in trying to kill men with those darts, I was going for horses. I hoped that knocking down a few horses would break up the continuity of the charge and turn this into a one-on-one battle that we had a chance of surviving. Winning would be nice, but I would be happy to settle for survival.
As soon as the enemy came within range, I began to hurl darts. I was very lucky, I guess. I did manage to knock down seven horses with my eight darts. That caused quite a gap in the line of charging Comanches. As a horse fell, it caused other horses to fall or to swerve to miss the fallen horse. The result was gaps in the line, and that was enough to break up the charge.
Meanwhile, my friends were pouring in from both sides to help me with the remaining Comanches. They had lost at least 10-12 warriors as the result of horses falling while running at full speed, so we immediately had a numerical advantage, and I hoped that we could take advantage of that.
I was now down to my tomahawk in my right hand and my club in my left hand. It was a good thing, too, that I had weapons on both sides. I guess that it was natural for the Comanches to pick me out as the number one cause for the failure of their charge. Besides, I was a hated horse killer, someone who was at the very bottom of the Comanche social calendar. The result was that I was attacked from both sides and had to flail away with little plan in order just to stay alive. I don't know how many I killed nor how many bones I broke in the process of the fight.
Later, I was credited with a total of 16 killed, when they included those lost in the initial charge. Anyway, Dove and Sunny delighted in tying 16 more scalps to my coup stick. Now I could see the value of self-promotion and of the coup stick. The war chief and Chief were more than willing to listen to me when I had a suggestion to improve the protection of the tribe. Even my critics among the lazy and self-centered hoi polloi were forced to keep their opinions to themselves as a result of our successful defense against this raid. We only had one man killed and four wounded, and none of the women and children were hurt. This was in contrast to the projection that all of our men and most of our women and children would have been killed without the warning given by the flanker scout.
We now moved up to very near the front of the column! On top of that, I was awarded eight of the captured horses. I was definitely a rich man by local standards. I happened to overhear Dove and Sunny talking about whether or not I should take another wife in response to my rise in status. I didn't hear how that discussion came out, so I assume that they put off the decision for a while.
That was our only big battle during the trek, but the flanker scouts were kept on patrol on a just in case basis. The war chief in charge of the trek was considering retirement, and I heard that my name was put up as his replacement, but that subject would not be revisited until time for the next gathering two years hence.
We arrived at the site of the village and my wives claimed a spot. They picked one very close to Chief's house, and they got away with it. I guess that meant that my status, and that of my family, was very near the top. A celebration was held a few days after we arrived. The celebration was delayed for those few days to allow time for preparation. Among other things, it was decided that several hunters would go out for a small buffalo. The buffalo would be the centerpiece of the celebration meal.
I guess it was natural that I was chosen to be a member of the hunting party, though, thank God, I was not selected to be the leader. I'm sure that I got out of that chore simply because I did not know the neighborhood, so I would not be able to find a suitable beast within a reasonable time. On the other hand, I was told that I would get the first shot at the beast because of the great power of the atlatl darts. That was a real honor, and I was as pleased as my wives when the choice became known.
We set out early in the morning for the most likely place to find a suitable buffalo. The buffalo around here were not as large as those out on the plains, but they were conceded to be just as hard to kill, so there was no shame in hunting one of their smaller cousins.
We headed into the hills, with me paying more attention to my surroundings than were most of the men. I wanted to be able to remember as much of the territory as I could to be ready for the times when I would be hunting on my own. Thus it was, by purest luck, that I was the first one to spot our quarry. The buffalo was a young cow, the choicest possible quarry for the celebration. She would provide plenty of meat, but she was small enough that she could be carried home in one piece on a sledge dragged by our spare horses.
Aspen
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