Toms Sexual Awakening
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Tom's AdventuresChapter 20: The Hunters free porn video
The next morning Fighting Hawk and Paul left the village with the first rays of the sun. All they carried was their knife. Fighting Hawk started his lessons as soon as they had left the village. Tracking and catching his first small game was his first lesson. Fighting Hawk wondered if he had been this bad when Gray Eagle had led him from the village so many years ago. He hoped that they didn't starve.
By the end of the first month, Paul could hunt any small game and they managed to put some of the weight back on that they had lost. Fighting Hawk thought that Paul had grown at least three inches and his britches seemed to agree. He knew that they would have to hunt something bigger before he grew out of them. So, Fighting Hawk taught him to make his first bow and how to fletch arrows. His first arrow was as poor as any that Fighting Hawk had ever seen, but within a week they were reasonable enough to at least hit what he was shooting at. Paul hated chasing the arrows that he missed, but he learned that if he hit what he was shooting at, then he didn't have to hunt for it.
By the end of the second month Paul was wearing a new set of deer skin britches. He had killed the deer, skinned it, tanned the hide and even stitched the britches. He complained that it was woman's work, but Fighting Hawk pointed out that when they were out hunting there were no women to do the work, and he had better get used to doing all kinds of woman's work. With their packs, made from many different small animals, filled with jerked deer they set out deeper into the mountains. Fighting Hawk began his lessons with the knife. Paul found that even a wooden knife was dangerous when he ended up with cuts and wounds on his body. He was so tired each day that he fell asleep eating his evening meal. Fighting Hawk smiled when he remembered how he had done the same thing.
They hunted a few more deer and prepared for winter. Fighting Hawk led them to a ravine and Paul watched as he worked skins over the rocks and made them a shelter. It was still cold, but it would keep the wind and snow outside. They hunted elk and made blankets and jerked the meat. During the day they practiced with the knife. Paul had learned the language quickly and rarely reverted to English. In the evenings they sat around their small fire and talked. They talked about what it means to be a man, and Fighting Hawk explained that anybody can talk like a man, but it is your actions that make you a man. Paul learned the lessons that Fighting Hawk had learned. He asked the same questions and he made the same mistakes. He learned hard lessons and he grew to understand the simple truths that make a man.
He listened to Fighting Hawk when he told him about pleasing a woman, and the responsibilities that went with being a man. He didn't understand why he couldn't use any woman that he pleased. Fighting Hawk knew that this came from how he had been raised, and the things that he had seen since the day he was born. He tried to explain that it was how responsible men acted. When a man loved a woman, then he should care about her pleasure, and not just his own. If he cared only for his own pleasure his own hand would do better. Paul had to think about it for a long time before he began to see what Fighting Hawk was driving at.
Paul improved with is use of the knife, and when the wooden knifes were thrown away and they began to use real knives, he learned the control that he needed. Fighting Hawk taught him that control was the most important thing. Paul lived with a knife in his hand every minute for more than a month. He knew the feel, weight, texture and even the smell of the knife. He learned to throw and hit what he was aiming at, as well as killing large game with his knife. It was hard for him to understand that a knife was the most powerful weapon that he could ever have. When he killed his first elk with his knife he looked at Fighting Hawk and said, "With a knife I can kill my enemies, hunt and eat, get clothes and even make other weapons. I think that I understand; with a knife I can do anything." Fighting Hawk smiled and nodded his head. Paul had seen a basic truth of the Cheyenne.
After the Elk was cleaned, the hide tanned and the meat smoked they disassembled their little shelter and headed deeper into the mountains. The snows of winter made travel slow and hard. They were often cold and Paul thought that they were going to freeze, but Fighting Hawk knew that they would survive. He needed to show Paul the same thing. Each night Fighting Hawk showed Paul how to pick a camp site, and how to set up their little shelter. Each time it was easier. Soon Paul was picking the sites and setting up the shelter alone. Fighting Hawk sent him out to hunt small game, and Paul returned with rabbits. They cooked them over their small fire and enjoyed fresh meat.
Deep in the mountains they found a small cave. Fighting Hawk and Paul used their shelter skins to seal the cave mouth. They decided to stay for a while and hunt more game and smoke more meat before they moved on. Fighting Hawk was glad to see that Paul was adapting so well.
It was a week later that they heard a strange sound. Fighting Hawk knew instantly what it was and motioned for Paul to stay where he was. Fighting Hawk slipped back into the darkness of the cave and waited. It was only a few seconds later that the man tore open the shelter hides and stumbled in. He had a crazed expression on his face and he kept waving his pistol around. Fighting Hawk silently pulled his bow and waited to see what Paul would do. The man demanded food and grabbed it from Paul's hands. He stuffed the meat in his mouth and tried to talk at the same time. He demanded the deer skin blanket that Paul was wrapped in. Paul just looked at him, pretending not to understand. The man motioned with his hands and then just reached over and grabbed it. As it came off of Paul's shoulders and slid over her head, Paul's knife went up and lodged itself into his stomach, just below the ribs and pointing to his heart. He looked down with a stupid expression on his face as Paul twisted the knife and pulled it from his stomach. The man fell where he stood. Fighting Hawk cautiously stepped forward, but didn't lower the bow.
Paul watched Fighting Hawk ease the bow and sit it down. He watched as Fighting Hawk took the man and shoved him out the cave mouth and over the side of the mountain. They had to work to repair the damage done to their shelter skins, but soon the cold was once again outside. They sat back down at the fire and Paul spoke, "You knew what was going to happen. You left me to kill him, or to be killed." Fighting Hawk looked at Paul before he said. "I was watching, and I had my bow ready. If there was any real danger I would have killed him before you were hurt. As far as killing him, well there are times that you have to kill and you needed to learn that lesson too. He was going to take what he wanted from you and probably kill you after he did. If you weren't willing to kill him to save your own life I have not taught you how to survive very well." Paul smiled and shook his head. "No, you taught me how to survive very well. I didn't feel a thing when I killed a man, and I should have."
Fighting Hawk knew that Paul was upset, but all he could do was to tell him the truth. "That was not a man. That was an animal that walked on two legs, just like a bear. A man doesn't crash in here and steal your food, and your blankets at gun point. He acts like a man; that was just another animal." Paul looked at him. He thought for a while before he said, "Do the Cheyenne think so little for life that they can kill so easily?" Fighting Hawk was surprised. His look expressed that to Paul, when he said, "If you want to get right down to it, most Indians respect life much more than most white men. A white man prefers to kill with a gun. That way he can do it from a long ways away and never have to see the face of his enemy, or to look into his eyes. A white man will kill for money, love, desire or just to take whatever he wants. An Indian will kill when he has to, to protect his home, family or way of life; but not for sport or profit. Think about these things and remember the wagon ride from Kansas City. Those men came after us for money, and to rob us. If we had given them the money would they have let us go, or killed us? Think about these things and in the morning you can tell me what you think." Fighting Hawk curled up in his blankets and left Paul to work out his place in the world. Each man had to make that choice and even though it had come early to Paul, he had to make his choice.
When Fighting Hawk sat up and stretched his tired muscles he saw that Paul was still sitting where he had been the night before. He looked at Fighting Hawk and said, "The men following us from Kansas City. I didn't know about all of them, but I did hear some of what you and the others talked about. If you had given them the money they would have still killed us. So if you didn't kill them they would have killed us. The man last night would have killed me, if I had not killed him. I don't know if he was an animal, he might have just been desperate, but he still would have killed me. I don't know about all white men either, just like I don't know about all Indians. Momma always said the there was good men and bad men; I think that it is true for white men and Indians. I understood what you meant about using a knife over a gun. Every time I tried to fall asleep I saw his eyes. I didn't get any sleep. I also understand what you meant when you said that if you kill with a knife it shows that you love life more, because you don't want to kill, unless you have to. I think that I understand, you kill when you have to, to protect yourself, or family, or your people, but not if you can help it. One of us was going to have to kill that man last night, and I wish that it had been you, but that is a little boys' way of thinking, and I am now a man and I will do what I have to."
Fighting Hawk smiled a sad smile and said, "Yes, you are a man now. Not because you killed a man, but because you have faced your responsibilities like a man. I am sorry that the boy couldn't have lived a little longer, but life is a hard teacher." Paul nodded his head in agreement.
They stayed in that cave for the rest of the winter, hunting when they needed to, and taking about life and family and responsibilities. Paul seemed to grow up before his eyes. Each day he seemed older and wiser. He faced his demons and came to terms with himself.
They watched the snows melt and before they set off Fighting Hawk called Paul to him and said, "Every Cheyenne has a Cheyenne name. That name is given by their parents at birth, just like any other child, but at the summer festival a father stands his son before the tribe and names him as a man. When he names him before the tribe, he then has a name. Before that it is just a boy's name, but once named in front of the tribe, then he is a Cheyenne warrior. I will name you at the summer festival this year, and I will name you as Big Owl." Paul was shocked. He had not expected this. He had never heard anything like it. He smiled to himself and knew that even if somebody had explained it all to him, he wouldn't have understood a word. But he liked the idea of being named as a Cheyenne warrior. He felt more like a Cheyenne then he ever did as a white boy in Kansas City. Actually, he realized that he was less than white there too; there he was just a whore's son. In most places that didn't even make you human. He smiled and nodded his head and a soft 'thank you', could just be heard.
As they traveled back Fighting Hawk swung wide to the East. It took another two weeks before they reached La Junta. Fighting Hawk's hair had almost grown back to where it had been the last time that he was here. Big Owl's was just as long and they both looked the part of the Cheyenne warrior. Big Owl was only a few inches shorter than Fighting Hawk. They both moved with the smooth fluid grace of a cat. The sentry stopped them and said that they weren't allowed entrance. Fighting Hawk looked at him hard and said, "Colonel said Fighting Hawk always welcome." The sentry gaped and made a couple of hand motions for them to wait and sent another soldier off at a run.
Big Owl looked at Fighting Hawk with a strange expression. Fighting Hawk whispered, "Sometimes it is better that you don't speak English, or only enough that they think that they can put one over on you. They don't feel the need to talk in private, and you find out a few secrets; never give up your advantage. And remember, some of them speak Cheyenne, but they don't let you know it either." Big Owl got a smile on his face and nodded his understanding.
Fighting Hawk saw the same lieutenant coming that he has seen the last time. He waited with a stony expression on his face. The lieutenant took one look at him and waved him through. The lieutenant spoke, "The Colonel's compliments and the Colonel asks that you to join him in his office." Fighting Hawk listened then walked away. He ignored the lieutenant and they went to the trading post. Once inside they traded the heavy furs that they had used all winter for a few trinkets and some candy. It was almost robbery, but they didn't have to carry the furs. Fighting Hawk saw the lieutenant bringing a small group of soldiers. He whispered, "We are going to have a little trouble, use only your hands, and don't get yourself killed." Big Owl grinned that he understood and moved to a position that would make it hard for them to get at him easily. When the soldiers came in, the lieutenant ordered the soldiers to take them. Fighting Hawk was moving before the words left his mouth. The first soldier dropped when he was hit in the head with his own rifle. Fighting Hawk used the same rifle to send two more to the floor. Big Owl kicked the first man in a place that even made Fighting Hawk wince and as the man was going down Big Owl was throwing a punch over his shoulder into the face of a surprised soldier.
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