Indian Fighters John ShiplyChapter 8
- 3 years ago
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I was received at home with hugs, kisses, and a thorough examination to determine if I might be hiding a wound somewhere that my wives could take care of. The only such "wound" was in my balls, and my wives were soon draining them to make sure that they were going to recycle properly. Luckily for all of us, there was no problem there, and we had an extended session to demonstrate that.
The next morning was one of those where I was full of piss and ginger. My wives knew that there was only one cure for that, and it involved guns. They reluctantly bid me adieu as I went to look for more Comanches. Neither of my wives was actually enthusiastic about me hunting Comanches, but they both realized that I was a bear to live with if they kept me bottled up and under their watchful eyes.
I headed for the Comanche village I knew about and found it easily enough. This appeared to be a day set aside for a big powwow or celebration. I did not know enough Comanche lore to be able to identify what was going on, but I really did not need that if all I were going to do was to try to kill as many as I could. There were several sentries out riding a great loop around the camp, so I had to be careful to avoid being noticed.
Somewhere along the line, I have forgotten where or when, I picked up a Sharps buffalo gun, and I had added it to my armament that my poor horse was forced to carry. It was .52 caliber and had an effective range of 600 yards. As could be easily told from its name, that buffalo rifle packed quite a punch. The biggest problem with it was that it was single-shot, but it was a breech-loader with metallic cartridges.
I had concocted a plan, subject to change at a moment's notice, whereby I would use the Sharps to pick off the highest ranking Indian at the celebration and switch to my Henry when the Comanches charged at me. When necessary, I would jump on my horse and get the hell out of there as quickly as I could. That was when my shotgun and pistols would come into play.
I hid my horse and me in the little grove of woods that I had previously used. The range seemed to be about 550 yards, and that was pushing things a little bit, but I should be able to get off at least two shots from there before I had to switch to the Henry. The Henry could be loaded with up to 17 rounds, but I did not expect to be able to use that many on this occasion. My greatest problem was that I did not dare to let the Comanches surround me before I could escape from the trees.
My next fort was to be a wide and deep arroyo about 1,000 yards away from the trees. Once I made it there, I figured to be able to fight off anything the Comanches could throw at me.
The Indian celebration started at noon, so I was grateful for the sandwiches that my wives had packed for me. I nibbled on those while I waited for the Indians to start their get-together. Some elderly Comanche in the biggest war bonnet I had ever seen was escorted to the place of honor and seated with much ceremony. I swear that there had to be at least 100 coup-feathers on that war bonnet, and that meant that he was either a very successful killer or a very successful war chief, or maybe even both. Anyway, I knew that my first bullet was reserved for him!
Some other men were seated near that first man, and they were all wearing coup-feathers, but none with nearly as many as the first man. Okay, I was going to shoot as many of them as I could with the Sharps—I hoped for three. I got ready as some sort of ceremonial dancing was started by a shaman, and he was tossing dust and other stuff around as he danced. Again, I had no idea the significance of what was going on, but I was going to shoot as soon as I could get ready.
I assumed the prone position and steadied the Sharps barrel against a tree trunk as I lined up my shot. I was not in a great hurry because I wanted the Indians to have time to become engrossed in the ceremonies. I waited about 10 minutes, but I was afraid that the calm air might change before I was ready to shoot. I took careful aim and adjusted my breathing to hold my shot as steady as possible. Not being a complete fool, I aimed for my target's chest instead of his head. That way, a slight miss was still likely to result in a kill.
I fired that shot and did not wait to view the results, but reloaded my rifle as quickly as I could—about six seconds. When I looked back to aim at another target, they were all gathered around the old man, and I could not tell exactly what my first shot had done. Nevertheless, I lined up on another man with a lot of coup-feathers and shot at him. A nice red splotch formed in the middle of his back, and I will bet that the man just in front of him also felt the effect of my bullet. That Sharps bullet had enough force behind it to go all the way through the first man and hit the second man hard enough to be fatal. Two men fell, so that must have been what happened.
I decided that I had time for one more shot, even though people were already pointing at my plume of powder smoke. Anyway, I spent another six seconds reloading my Sharps, and it was time well spent. My next target was the shaman who was dancing when I shot the first man. Killing the shaman was going to be a tremendous psychological blow to the Comanches, so I could not resist the opportunity.
The shaman kept moving around, so it was hard to get a good line on him. However, he finally wedged his way into the crowd so that he was locked in place for a few seconds. All I had for a target was his head, but I was overcome with admiring my own skill, so I decided to take a chance on a head-shot. I managed to line up on the shaman's head and fired.
The result was that I killed three men with that one shot, maybe even more. I definitely saw three heads explode, and there may have been more. So many men were crowded together that I could have seriously wounded at least one more man. Anyway, I congratulated myself on my skill, but it was now time to change to the Henry.
Two of the sentries were charging at me on their horses and brandishing bows, so I had to attend to my own defense from this moment on. The sentries were riding toward me at different angles so that I was going to have to swing my rifle in order to get a shot at both of them. This was no time to fool around, so I shot at the horses and not at the men. One horse went down, and the fall must have killed the rider, but the other horse was only wounded, and it slowed down, giving the rider time to save himself.
However, the rider did have to stand up to see me through the tall grass, and that gave me a chance to shoot at him directly. I calmed myself and took the time to get a good aim before I fired. Aha! The Comanche was hit in the chest and fell over just as he released his arrow. I did not notice where it went, but the important point was that it came nowhere near to me.
By this time, several other warriors had picked up weapons and were running at me. Well, I was now forced to rise from my prone position, but I was still able to maintain a kneeling position and rest my rifle against the tree trunk for added stability. The result was that I was able to kill five Indians with seven shots. Now that was good shooting, no matter what battle one was fighting.
The trouble was that more Indians were charging at me with weapons in hand, so it was time for me to abandon my current position and retreat to the arroyo. The Indians who were near to me were all on foot, an unusual place for a Comanche warrior to stage a fight. Nevertheless, they were all so determined to kill me that that detail had slipped their minds.
I was able to reach my horse and escape with only near misses from the multitude of arrows fired at me. Most of the time I was protected by trees until I reached my horse, and I was able to escape the arrows at that time by swerving back and forth so that I never made a stable target. The relatively low velocity of an arrow versus a bullet made that possible.
I made it to the arroyo well ahead of the Indians and had plenty of time to get set up. I reloaded all of my weapons, including the Sharps, though I did not expect to get much use from it. The only conveniently close ramp to the bottom of the arroyo was only 20 yards away from where I decided to make my stand. Several bushes were growing near the lip of the arroyo, and they made a good screen for my head. Also, the limbs of the bushes could deflect an arrow, and that made shooting them at me even more chancy for the Indians.
That trip back to the North farm had reminded me how much I hated the Comanches, so I wanted to start back to hunting them right away. My wives (that sure sounds good to me) were happy when I said that I would be gone all day. They had a lot of things to do on the house to turn it into their idea of home, and I would have just been in the way. We kissed goodbye as I left to go hunting: Comanches or outlaws, I really did not care which one came up first. I headed for the Comanche camp and was...
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Three weeks later, Two very pampered males were helped onto their horses as the next patrol of Shiply's Troop set out to hunt marauding Indians. This time, it was a very determined Abigail who rode point. She was intent on smelling out any ambush attempts before they could happen. Abe was afraid that she would take foolish chances in trying to protect him and the rest of her friends, so he made a point of sticking to her side almost like a cocklebur. Abigail knew exactly what he was doing,...
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As. Previously mentioned Daughter Christina,s best friend is Oona Khan of Indian ancestry though born in England. A very attractive twenty two year old when we got together. It was at a party hosted by both Oons and Chris at the house they rented together in east London. They,d invited a few friends as well as wife Sarah and me and with the exception of the Khans and us the rest were in their twenties. Oona,s parents were the first to have had enough and now it was only my wife and I who were...
A few years ago I accepted a foreign assignment with my company. I was to spend the better part of a year overseeing a construction project in Chennai India. The company put me up in a staff house in a nice part of town. At first the novelty of being in a strange land kept me occupied but over time i found myself with more time on my hands than I knew what to do with as a single guy. I decided to take up golf with a passion as there was a course I had often driven past on my way to the job...
I'm Kevin, 29 years and my wife is Nisha, 26 years. We are a marred Indian couple, staying in India. We have been married for five years now and in those years sex has been mind blowing. Nisha loved to fuck, anytime and anywhere and she was never ever shy in admitting it. But, I was my desire to expose her in revealing clothes to other guys and also see her getting fucked. One day, I spoke this with her and after bit of hesitation, she agreed. But, she had a few conditions. One of her...
It is late. Mom used to say, "Nothing good happens after midnight." This story proves Mom was wrong~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~With the recent upsurge in summer heat, I went for my evening jog later than usual. I started at 11:15 and since it was my six mile day I wound up jogging into our quiet little dead end street about 12:20 a.m. I walked down the sidewalk drenched in sweat, heart pounding and a ton of endorphins flowing through me making me feel like anything was possible.I stopped at a...
This is a real story.A little about me. I am a 27 year old Indian guy. Decent looking. I live in San Francisco. I am str8 but have always wanted to please good looking white or black guys.This happened I went to Miami in Sep 2013 with a couple of other Indian friends. The very first night we all went to a club and got pretty drunk. I slipped out of the club and went to the beach. It was very dark and I started walking on the beach. While walking I saw a black guy sitting all by himself next to...
I had just moved to Bay Area, California for my new job. I was pretty lonely, so I posted an ad in the personals section of Craigslist. In a few hours, a girl named P. Kaur (withholding her full name) sent me an email. We exchanged a few emails and I sent her my pic and asked for hers. She told me she is from a very conservative family, so she is reluctant to send a pic. She said she would instead meet me at a bar that evening in Dublin.I was a little late for our date, so when I reached the...
Hello, My Dear Readers. I always wanted to write stories based on Indian actors. was my first attempt on the same. We have all imagined how our hot actresses will look in extreme erotic sequences. And with this new series, I am trying to portray our beloved cum-queens as professional adult stars, acting in porn movies. I will be adopting a template similar to galleries in porn sites, to write down this story. I will try my best to explain the sexual acts in detail, but also not drag them. So,...