Gender: N/A Age: N/A Location: N/A
|Introduction: Death and love go hand in hand.|
Paradise Valley, Fort Kearney
“Eeeiiiee eee eeet,” the beautiful tinkling call of a blackbird sang from the top of a cattail in the river. Silver Quail looked up and smiled.
“I can make you a whistle like that out of a willow branch. I love blackbirds, they are so beautiful,” Silver Quail said from where they sat by the river. They had willow branches all around them. Nancy had a taller pile because she was a slower worker. They each had a four-foot-long cone of branches in their laps with willow funnels hidden inside the mouth. Silver Quail’s was almost complete. Nancy was an hour away from completing her fish trap. They worked side by side in companionable silence. The warm sun drew familiar fragrances from Silver Quail’s buckskin dress. Bees, flies, and white fluff dotted the golden rays of morning sunlight shining down upon the river. A humming bird investigated the bright colors of Nancy’s dress, before flying off to find flowers.
“There,” White Quail pointed. The blackbird flew up and disappeared. The cattails near where it sat were waving, although there was no wind. “Do you see that?”
“Yes,” Nancy said, shading her eyes. “What is it?”
“A trout, perch, or catfish, most likely. A very large fish. Fish play and spawn out here in the yellow sand, but their food is hidden in the reeds. They have hidden pathways inside the reeds that only they know about. If you watch, you can find these pathways.”
“So that’s where you will hide your trap?” Nancy said in comprehension, while biting her lip. She took great pains in weaving her fish trap tight with it’s many rings of willow branches.
“It is, but we will look for one more, a place for you. There, that’s good enough,” Silver Quail sat her fish trap on the sand beside her. She took up another large willow branch and bent it into an oval. As she added more branches, her oval became almost flat.
“Yours is deformed,” Nancy giggled.
“No, this one is different. It’s for crawdads. Easy to crawl into, impossible to escape. It requires a very delicate weave.”
“Crayfish?” Nancy asked in disgust.
“My god yes,” Silver Quail had adopted the phrase from Nancy.
“I will let you eat one first,” Nancy shivered.
“I have eaten many. Those who can find and trap crayfish are considered very skillful in my tribe. It’s one of the best foods on earth. Catch as many as you can, dry the extras for the winter. They are heavenly in soups.” Silver Quail waded out and pushed her trap to the bottom of the river. She waved Nancy forward and pointed out another likely spot.
“What about that one?” Nancy pointed at the crayfish trap.
“That’s why I brought the stinking quail heads,” Silver Quail smiled. She tossed the four heads into the trap, then pinned the trap to the bottom of the river with a long forked stick. They watched for a moment to make sure nothing drifted away, then returned to the ranch. There wasn’t much going on, the girls were hunting food, the men were driving 30 head of cattle to Ft. Kearney for sale. Silver Quail had collected dandelions for planting in the front yard, and Nancy had collected a few daisies. Both were edible. Rather than completing the dreaded picket fence, Silver Quail and Nancy had brought in stones from around the ranch. They dragged the stone boat around behind a horse to smooth out the potholes in the much-used road, then used the stones to build a low fence around front yard to keep horses out. They spent the rest of the morning planting. It was hard for Nancy to keep up with Silver Quail’s brutal pace, but she was determined to gain Silver Quail’s magnificent figure and her wiry strength.
“There, those yellow mushrooms growing in a clump,” White Fawn pointed in excitement. She dropped the reins of their basket-ladened horse and pointed.
“They are everywhere,” Willow Bud exclaimed. “My tribe comes from the desert, we have no mushrooms,” Willow Bud bent to collect the best of the plentiful mushrooms.
“I don’t think I’d like the desert. No, get them all, we will dry the extras,” White Fawn bent to pick the handful of chanterelles which Willow Bud had left behind. She suddenly found her face an inch from the other girl’s.
“You . . . you have to be careful,” White Fawn whispered, “there is another one that looks like these, but they will make you sick,” she looked from Willow Bud’s eyes to her mouth. “I will show you the difference later.”
“Ok,” Willow Bud was poised like a frightened deer.
“I like the huge puff balls and any which grow on a tree the best. There are no poisonous varieties.”
“I see,” Willow Bud moved no closer, or farther away. She simply waited.
“Do you know how to kiss?” White Fawn whispered.
“Oh yes, the white men teach me,” Willow Bud snarled. White Fawn dropped the mushrooms into the basket with lax fingers. She moved closer to Willow Bud and pressed her lips against the Ute girl’s. They became very animated, as they twisted and twined. Slowly they sank to the ground and continued the kiss, tightly locked in each other’s arms. Being ever frugal, White Fawn set the basket of mushrooms aside so it would not get dumped.
Willow Bud slid to her back on the ground, with White Fawn on top of her. They kissed silently for several minutes, then White Fawn’s hands went to Willow Bud’s breasts. They were large and firm in her hands. She liked them immediately. As she massaged first one breast, then the other, Willow Bud withered beneath her. White Fawn lowered her mouth and licked Willow Bud’s right breast. It was salty and subtly scented. She sucked the end of Willow Bud’s breast into her mouth, while breathing loudly. She finally pulled her mouth off and captured the stiffened nipple.
“I’ve never done this before,” Willow Bud warned.
“Don’t worry, I have,” White Fawn said with a smile. She leaned across the girl and started on her left breast. After several more minutes White Fawn wanted more. She was shaking, nervous, and very horny. She quickly slid Willow Bud’s skirt up her slender legs and found the abundant pussy hair beneath it. Willow Bud had her legs tightly closed. White Fawn gently pried them open, revealing a large, well-defined pussy. It was already glistening with juice. Willow Bud was ready.
White Fawn pushed Willow Bud’s right leg aside and crawled up between them. She caressed the abnormally large pussy lips with the tips of her fingers and Willow Bud withered beneath her. White Fawn brought her fingers up to her nose and sniffed, while looking Willow Bud in the eyes, then she slid the fingers inside her mouth and sucked on the juices. Willow Bud’s eyes widened. White Fawn pressed the wet lips of Willow Bud’s pussy open with her thumbs and sank her face between her legs. She showed no hesitation when her lips touched Willow Bud’s moist box and kissed it, first in one place then another, with loud, slow kisses. The tip of her tongue slid inside Willow Bud and the girl arched and gasped, the first sound she had made.
White Fawn stopped and tasted the fluids on her tongue, deciding they were unique and good. She sealed her mouth over Willow Bud’s pussy and began sucking and tonguing, while she worked her face from side to side. Willow Bud heaved up off the dry leaves and fed her sensitive pussy to White Fawn’s eager lips. She panted and cried as the tongue flashed around inside her, sending fire and electricity to all parts of her body. She looked down with desperate eyes, looking right into the smiling eyes of White Fawn. She hissed something in her own language, then arched more and closed her eyes. Her hands were full of dry leaves. Her heels dug into the fresh black earth. White Fawn wet two fingers in Willow Bud’s pussy and began sliding them in and out of the girl. She whimpered and thrashed, feeling more stimulation in her pussy than she had ever felt before.
The steady sound of White Fawn’s tongue and Willow Bud’s panting breath blended with the bird calls around them. The horse snorted and shook it’s head, then stepped forward in search of food. A squirrel chattered at the horse, standing so close to its tree. The horse ignored it, munching quietly, then dropped its head to pull more grass.
The steady sound of White Fawn’s tongue flicking in wet pussy flesh, was being matched with small cries coming from Willow Bud. This was unusual since few Indian girls allowed themselves to make sounds during sex. This told White Fawn that Willow Bud was very stimulated. She was enjoying herself a lot, according to her movements. White Fawn enjoyed the girl’s flavor and warmth. She could feel heat coming from the girl’s pussy and those nethery soft thighs on each side of her head. Occasionally Willow Bud raised her thighs and clamped them tightly over White Fawn’s small ears. White Fawn loved the softness and warmth, but it was hard to breathe and manipulate her stroking fingers.
Willow Bud also felt fire. The warning fires of an approaching orgasm.
“Achee,” she hissed, giving White Fawn a desperate look. “Es caliente,” she whispered in Spanish, signifying that her orgasm was near. White Fawn nodded with smiling eyes. She never took her eyes off the beautiful Ute girl, as her mouth worked in her pussy. She liked the control she had over the girl. It was amazing what she could get people to do, simply by stimulating their genitalia. White Fawn mashed her fingers inside the girl right up to the knuckles, while concentrating only on her clit, with her tongue. Willow Bud was thrashing around noisily in the dry leaves. It would only be moments now.
White Fawn held her fingers still, allowing the girl to fuck herself on her stationary fingers. Willow Bud pushed hard against the fingers, unable to escape the seeking tongue. Then she stiffened and sat up as her loins exploded.
“Aaaeeee,” she screamed in an uncharacteristic manner. She shivered, holding her breath, while looking at White Fawn with large, frightened eyes. She gaped for breath twice, before her orgasm lessened and she fell back to the ground panting, shaking as each wave of pleasure swept over her body.
“Wow, you were really . . . ” White Fawn was stopped as Willow Bud sat up and pulled her into a passionate kiss.
“El tuyo por siempre,” Willow Bud whispered harshly, before she melted against White Fawn’s body.
White Fawn knew Spanish pretty well, but she was not sure if Willow Bud was declaring her love, or their marriage.
“Where’s the fort?” Tall Elk asked as they rode along behind a line of wagons and oxen. They arrived at Ft, Kearney, but it was not what Tall Elk had expected.
“All those shacks are the fort. They have no fences or watchtowers,” Rusty smiled. It was easy to drive the cattle in the midst of the westward advance to Oregon. The cattle simply fell into step with the cattle and horses around them.
“Who do we see?” Tall Quail asked uncomfortably. Despite his short hair and cowboy hat, he was getting a few suspicious looks. It didn’t matter that the Sioux were not at war with the white men, an Indian was an Indian in some eyes.
“Look for the flag, partner.”
“Sure thing. A big flapping piece of cloth just full of colors, blue like the sky, white like snow, and red like blood. You can’t miss it.”
“Ah, there,” Tall Elk pointed at a three-room sod-covered house with a flag above it.
They sold the cattle for 20 dollars per head. It seemed that the men at Ft. Kearney were starving and the Colonel was eager for all the beef they could round up. He made them promise to bring more, before he would allow them to leave. With so much money in their pockets, they were wary as they stepped into the Sutler’s store and ordered drygoods. While a clerk loaded their packhorses, Rusty passed the time over a whiskey. Tall Elk was more interested in the weapons displayed on the wall. He was interested because they were the same weapons they had taken from the men attacking the ranch. This was unusual since there were several thousand small arms suppliers sending guns to American and out west. The chance of seeing two alike was slim. These were top of the line muzzle loading rifles. He displayed the rifles marked with J. H. Hall on top of the breach, as Rusty looked around. Rusty’s eyes went to the store owner, then back to Tall Elk. He nodded for Tall Elk to return the rifle to its place on the wall.
“I picked up a few weapons after a Ute attack,” Rusty said casually. “Know of anybody who needs one?”
“Some boys out on the 3L where in looking for guns. Mine were too pricey for them.”
“I know the ranch, ours is next to it,” Rusty nodded, finishing his drink. He turned and Tall Elk started to join him at the door, when a man blocked the door. The man swept his coat aside and reached for his pistol. In a flash, both pistols covered him. He jumped and raised his hands, slowly backing through the doors. He turned and disappeared.
“By any chance is that one of them?” Rusty called.
“Reg never works. He just waits. Appears you were the ones he was waiting for this time,” the bartender polished a glass and set it on the shelf.
“Seen him talking to anybody?”
“Not likely. I’d appreciate not getting my inventory shot up, if you gents have business elsewhere. I started out with a plank, a wooden barrel, and a pewter cup. I don’t want to start over again.”
Rusty laughed and saluted. He stepped to the door and peeked out. There were passing pilgrims for as far as the eye could see, plodding, driving teams, struggling to keep up with the dust shrouded wagons ahead of them. Barefoot children herded goats, sheep, and even a few ducks, along behind the wagons. A few squealing children played, running between pedestrians, cattle, and horses. Rusty saw the Colonel and two sergeants standing beside the trail, watching the pioneers passing, speaking occasionally and nodding to them all. He was in a good mood because the cook had just slaughtered a beef, and he was awaiting his steak.
“Looks clear,” Rusty said to Tall Elk.
“My hackles are standing up,” Talk Elk said, looking at their horses tied to the railing. “They’re out there.”
“Mister, if you were to lay for a guy, where would you do it?” Rusty asked. The bartender chewed his tobacco for a moment and spat.
“Over west of here. It looks flat but there’s a gully.”
“Thanks. Well there’s no time like the present,” Rusty smiled. They pulled their guns and stepped out. Once outside they slid up against the poles supporting the porch and looked to the west. It was hard to see between the pioneers, which meant it would be hard for the ambushers to see as well. It was a stupid place for an ambush. They each had their riding horse and two pack horses to lead. It would take some doing.
“There,” Rusty said in satisfaction. Tall Elk had already seen the flash of light off metal, probably from the polished gold band on a musket. They looked from the ambushers to the approaching team of twenty oxen pulling massive double wagons. If they timed it right . . . Both men rushed forward as the first oxen covered their actions. They jerked the reins, and the ropes of the pack horses, and ran around the side of the building. They mounted and tied off the pack horses to their saddles. They kicked their horses into action, running behind the headquarters building and turning northeast. In a moment they were out of sight.
The setting sun was 30 seconds from disappearing behind the nearby hillside. Silver Quail brought her coffee out to the steps of the porch and enjoyed the cool evening breeze as the last tendrils of light rose on the barn and disappeared above its roof. Nancy soon joined her on the steps with her own cup.
“It’s a nice night,” Silver Quail took a sip with a smile.
“I wish somebody would show up. I want to check the traps when there’s an audience around,” Nancy chuckled.
“Let’s leave them for tomorrow, there will be more food that way. Either the girls found lots of food, or they got sidetracked. I could get sidetracked with that little Ute girl myself,” Silver Quail smiled. Nancy lifted an eyebrow, nodding in agreement.
“I have a few things to say to Mister Rusty North when he returns,” Nancy gulped her coffee and set the cup on the porch.
“I can’t believe you two lived together for so long and never did anything,” Silver Quail laughed.
“I can’t either,” Nancy giggled. “It seems silly now. It’s funny how people can change in such a short time. By our standards I got raped a week ago, but I think of them as past lovers and find myself wishing they would come back for more.”
“So what happened while we were gone?”
“Four men broke into the house. White Fawn killed one, the other three surrendered. We sent them on their way without saddles or weapons, as we promised. We also made them take along the dead man. It really wasn’t a big deal, thanks to White Fawn. I’m learning a lot from your daughter.”
They were interrupted by two bearded men passing in a tarp-covered wagon. They waved and the men waved in return. Both men gawked at the women until they turned the corner at the far end of the valley.
“Men,” Silver Quail scoffed. “You’d think they’d never seen a woman.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, missy, but we are mighty fine looking women,” Nancy laughed. They took their cups and went inside to cook the evening meal.
“I didn’t think they’d be outside,” Happy Smith whined, looking at the driver of the wagon. “They might recognize us.”
“Aw, who cares. Once we deliver this wagon to 3L they will all be dead anyway. Sit down, Smith,” the driver growled.
“Seems like an awful bad waste of good women,” Smith growled. “Ever think we might be on the wrong side of this fight?”
“If I thought you were serious, I’d shoot you were you sat,” the driver growled, biting a piece off his tobacco.
“Don’t forget, I have a gun too,” Smith glared.
“Yeah, without it you’d be useless.”
“Keep it up, Cole, and I’ll be riding alone.”
There was grass for as far as they could see. Tall Elk spotted the far away trace of smoke, which signified a camp or house. They pulled right off the road and made their way toward the smoke. It was a desolate little house with a corral, fallen outbuilding, an outhouse, and a haphazard corral which barely did its job. A huge rocky hill was centered behind the house. The only inviting thing about the house was the well out front. They needed water.
Tall Elk rode left, and Rusty to the right. They approached the little sod-topped house carefully, surveying the outbuilding and livestock as they approached. The corral had only one broken down plow horse in it. A dark-skinned girl came from the front door, shading her eyes. She had a scarf around her head and wore a thigh length dress with bare feet.
“Mexican?” Rusty asked.
“Hola,” Rusty shouted at the house.
The girl waved them forward. Her eyes flashed over them and their outfits. They bulged slightly as they hovered on their pack horses.
“This one is hungry,” Rusty warned in a whisper. “Stay wary, Indian.”
“Si,” Tall Elk muttered. The girl noticed everything. Her eyes went to Rusty’s unmoving figure, as Tall Elk climbed from his horse. Tall Elk stood behind the saddle, watching the house, while Rusty climbed down from his mount. She smiled slightly and waved them inside.
“Do you want to ride on?” Rusty asked, licking his lips as he watched the sway of her hips.
“Do you?” Tall Elk challenged.
“No. I’m a damned fool, but no I don’t.”
“Me either. I like beans.”
“Yeah,” Rusty smiled. “I’ll take care of the horses and look around. You do the same inside.”
“I have a wife, white man. Why don’t we trade?”
“Ok,” Rusty smiled again, slapping the ass of his horse as he passed.
Tall Elk took his time with the horses. He piled the packs in the broken down shed and turned the horses loose in the corral. He walked around the back of the house, staring at the ground. The tracks told the story. There was a man in this house, a man who had left early that morning. By the look of the tracks his horse spent most of its time in the corral. That meant he was not a rancher or a hunter, so what was he? They could expect him back at any time. It was a good thing to know.
The sun was just going down when he went inside. Rusty had the woman bent over the table, fucking her from behind. Her face was wet and sexy, her naked breasts bulged against the table between bowls of food, looking extremely sexy. As he darkened the doorway, she turned and looked at Tall Elk. She licked her lips and looked down at his crotch.
“Join us,” Rusty panted, his cock sliding in and out of her moist pussy. “Her name is Jaimica.”
“Do you suck a cock, Jaimica?” Tall Elk asked.
“Always,” she gave him a carnivorous smile.
“When can we expect your man to return?”
“Any time now, but Raul is not my man,” she panted, licking her lips. “He was sent to wait . . . wait for somebody.”
“Does he pay you?”
“No,” she panted, closing her eyes.
“We will,” Tall Elk said, unbuttoning his pants. He pulled his gun and slid it between the top two buttons on his shirt. He wanted no hand over his gun if he had to pull it quickly. Rusty’s was on the floor and unreachable.
Tall Elk closed his eyes and froze, as Jaimica’s warm lips sucked his cock into her mouth. It grew in her mouth and she soon found several inches of his cock sticking from her mouth. Her eyes widened as she surged ahead with each thrust of Rusty’s cock. The undulations of her mouth, and the intense heat, were stimulating him to an ungodly level. He only hoped his wife wouldn’t mind, when he told her. He had an idea she would be more entertained by his tale, rather than offended. After all, his cock was only entering Jaimica’s mouth. And how heavenly it felt there. The heat was crawling from his balls to his ass. He reached down and grabbed Jaimica’s bulging breasts in his hands and luxuriated in their warmth and pliability. In his opinion, they were perfect breasts. The greatest breasts were formed by fat, and unfortunately, Indian women seldom grew fat, so they seldom grew a magnificent set of breasts. Mexican women were famous for them.
Tall Elk watched Rusty’s cock sliding in and out of Jaimica’s pussy. It was slick with her juices, forming a little white foam around the base of his cock. Her ass looked luxurious and sexy, bent over the table between their evening meal.
Tall Elk rolled a tortilla by pulling his hand across it on the plate. He took the rolled tortilla and dipped it into the pot of chili beans. Rusty snorted in laughter, Jaimica giggled around his cock, trying to slap at the food in his hand. With a smile, Tall Elk stuffed the tortilla into his mouth and chewed. “I was hungry,” he smiled.
Jaimica sucked noisily, as Rusty’s thrusts drove her forward on Tall Elk’s cock. The vibrations were driving Tall Elk insane. He petted her bare back with a gentle hand, then captured her breasts again. He loved a good set of breasts.
“Oh lord,” Rusty gasped, his eyes widening. “Oh hell,” he stiffened as his orgasm began building. He pumped into Jaimica’s ass a few more times, then stiffened as his cock began filling her pussy with cum. She shook her head as she sucked Tall Elk’s dick and tried to pull Rusty back into her pussy. But it was too late. Rusty was finished. He backed up and fell into a chair.
“Fuck me?” she begged Tall Elk with pleading eyes.
“I can’t. My wife won’t allow it. Rub against his leg, Jaimica.”
“Rusty, bend your knee so she can push back against it,” he motioned for Rusty to pull the chair closer. Rusty did and she sat reluctantly until her pussy contacted his kneecap. Her eyes widened in understanding and she began rubbing back against his knee.
“My god that feels good,” Rusty smiled as her moist pussy opened against his kneecap. He rubbed her ribs in gentle hands and watched her lips working on Tall Elk. Rusty could tell that Tall Elk was getting close to an orgasm, because his face seemed to grow stonier. Tall Elk was now standing in front of Jaimica with his hands on his hips, while she grabbed his ass and pulled his body closer. She bobbed on his cock, turning her head slightly this was and that, while Tall Elk stood like a statue. He hissed once, before his long cock began filling her mouth with sperm. She sucked desperately, pulling her mouth closer with desperate hands. She mashed his firm ass in desperate fingers, while looking up at his face. When she was done, he remained in place for her until she rubbed herself to an orgasm. She buried her face against his abdomen and held on, while her body shook and undulated. She grunted, allowing wave after wave of passion to roll over her sexy body. She stilled for several minutes, while the men waited for the sexy lady to rejoin them. She blinked and pulled her pussy off Rusty’s leg, slowing looking around.
“My god,” she whispered, then crossed herself. “It’s been a long time since anybody . . . cared.”
“You make good food,” Tall Elk shrugged. They laughed while they made themselves presentable, then they all sat down to eat.
The girls returned just before midnight. Talking and giggling, they released the horse into the corral, then dragged the heavy baskets into the house. The house only had three bedrooms, so until Rusty and Nancy could make some permanent arrangement, Willow Bud slept on the stretched cowhide couch at the far side of the kitchen. White Fawn had a homemade mattress on the floor in her parents room. She slid into bed and pulled the covers over her body with a smile.
“Goodnight, little beauty.”
Despite Tall Elk’s claim that an Indian could stand watch in his sleep, the stealthy footsteps of Raul nearly went unnoticed until he stepped on a loose board. Tall Elk’s eyes flew open. He was sleeping on the floor of the kitchen. Rusty was asleep with Jaimica, in her bed. Raul had a knife in his hand, as he approached the bedroom door. Tall Elk could see no gun.
“You overlooked one,” Tall Elk whispered. Raul was fast, very fast. The knife quivered in the wall, as Tall Elk’s gun flashed. The black powder lit the room, then filled it with smoke.
“Adios, Raul,” Tall Elk whispered.
“You too, Indian,” Raul’s voice whispered back. Tall Elk was on his feet immediately. There had been no doubt in his mind that Raul was dead, but somehow he still lived.
“Who sent you here, Raul?”
“Go to hell.”
“Raul, you will die in seconds. The next face you will see is God’s. Is that really how you want to die?”
“No,” Raul finally answered.
“Then tell me. Nancy Perkins is a nice lady and I don’t want to see her die. Tell God you died doing a good deed for a nice lady. It might help.”
“I doubt it,” Raul tried to laugh, but it turned into a coughing fit. “Three L, Major Hearn, Simon Hearn,” Raul whispered.
“All his water is poisoned by black stuff. His cattle die. He started out steeling her cattle to supplement his herd, but it was not enough. He needs her river to survive. He plans on building a dam, which will fill her entire valley with water. He simply needs to blow up a cliff of rock and fall it at the far end of her valley.”
“We’d better get going,” Rusty whispered in concern.
“L . . . last rites?” Raul whispered.
“I’ll do it,” Jaimica whispered, crossing herself. “Then I will give him a proper burial.”
“Here,” Tall Elk fished a gold piece from his pocket.
“No,” Raul pushed Tall Elk’s hand away and pointed at his own pocket. “Two hundred dollars. It’s no good to me,” he said, as he died.
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