As a young Sioux brave of sixteen summers I had once tried to kill my white father! I had sprang at him from the rocks like a lithe bronzed toned puma, using my knife like claws trying to disembowel him. But as we wrestled with me straddling him he was stronger and overpowered me, turning my own knife into my naked young belly. I thought I had died that day and believed the white devil had brought me back from the dead so he could kill me all over again. That was four summers ago and I still bear the scar just next to my navel where he had sliced into my belly. Now, I also have the same warmth in my heart for this white man as I do for my own natural father. He had brought me back from near death and tended my wound and fever until I was strong enough to be able to kill him but the hate I once had for him had already died. Slowly, an unexpected relationship had developed between us to the point that he treated me like a son and I’d call him ‘White Father’. He taught me the ways and language of the white man and warned me of the great power the yellow river dust he was searching for had over his people. He once showed me his accumulated horde and told me its power was very strong over him. When I asked why he did not simply return it to the river his power of speech seemed to leave him and we never talked about it again.
Now, when I come to visit him at his river valley camp, I bring along some younger braves so they know not to kill this white man, my White Father. This summer day I had four Sioux youths with me, we all just wore loincloths, moccasins, and headbands holding back our black braided hair. We had sheathed hunting knives at our waistbands and bows and quivered arrows on our backs. I also had with me a traveler from far up country which my tribe and I had befriended, a Huron Warrior called Snake, of similar age to me who had much experience of the white man. He too was clad and armed as us. His tall lean body was adorned with his tribe’s traditional war paint designs to show to my tribe and white father.
Since that first encounter with my white father I have become a mature warrior and have earned the name Predator in white man parlance for my proven skills at stalking and killing my enemy. Like Snake I am lean and agile and we had taken to wrestling each other to prove who was the strongest warrior. But from this close contact it was our friendship and trust that had proven to be the strongest.
As we descend from the high ridge into the river valley I sense something is very wrong! Peering down in the direction of my white father’s camp we see a group of nine young cowboys, mostly naked, frolicking in the river with some holding liquor bottles. As we stealthily descend closer, to my horror, I see the body of my white father floating face down in the river a short distance from them, his body has two bloody holes in the back. Instinctively I know my white father has been killed for his gold, prophetically he even told me he was likely to meet his end in this way. The four Sioux youths prepare to fire arrows at the cowboys but both me and Snake put a stop to it and explain that while they remain naked in the river they are separated from their fire arms and we must keep it like that so we can seek revenge against them all. There being no time to gather a war party it falls to us six to be the instrument of that revenge and we are all in agreement. Two of the Sioux youths are tasked to stay on the high approach path with all the bows and arrows and to put arrows into anyone who tries to get to a firearm. Myself, Snake and the other two Sioux youths, Teepoe and Washito, who are good with a knife, will descend to confront these cowboys. Before we descend I ask the bowmen for their sheath knives and myself and Snake each place one in our waistbands.
As we four descend to the river two of the nine cowboys spot us and one calls over in the direction of a particular cowboy, “Hey Jake, we got us some company!”… As this is said two other young cowboys slowly make their way to the river bank where there is a pile of clothes and.....firearms! Jake is obviously the leader of this band of murdering thieves. He is in his mid twenties, tall with black hair and blue eyes. The other cowboys are in their late teens to early twenties. All except one is fully naked in the river celebrating their acquisition of my white father’s horde of evil yellow dust… As Jake turns to see who the company is he looks straight at me and the war painted Snake and says,“Welcome to the party injuns, I’m afraid our host isn’t very chatty” as he points to the body of my white father. Just then an arrow tears into each of the two naked cowboys making for the firearms. One is hit, >Thooonk< deep into his right pec, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” he cries out through clenched teeth clutching at the arrow as he falls into the water. The other young cowboy is hit just above his navel with a >Thuuunk< as the arrow hits hard belly muscle, “Aiyeeee!!” he exclaims clawing at his belly and falling to his knees in the water. He looks down at the protruding arrow in his belly in disbelief just as another arrow enters the centre of his chest, >Thooonk< instantly throwing him backwards into the water to float face up and lifeless with two arrows sticking up from him. Jake’s attention is now very focused on us four, but his eyes still dart around to locate where the arrows had come from and how many of us there actually is. He puts his hand up to signal his remaining men to keep still and says, “Now injun, this is white man’s business so skedaddle!” I say, “You have murdered my white father and I will avenge him!” Jake and his gang look puzzled by this statement but Jake says, “Okay! okay! Well how about a drink of the old firewater to calm things down, what you say injun?” as he holds the liquor bottle out in my direction I raise my hand in signal and an arrow hits the bottle clean out of Jake’s hand which clearly has him rattled.
I walk into the shallow river up to my white father’s body and touch his head and recite a short Shaman chant to the spirits. I then place my fingers in the bullet wounds on his back and, using his congealing blood as war paint, place a red stripe on each of my prominent cheekbones and I say, “White Father I take your spirit into battle with me!” At this Jake and his gang become agitated and look to make for their weapons but I say, “It is not the way of my people to kill an unarmed enemy, each of you will get a weapon to defend yourself with, which is more than you allowed my white father.” To be equal myself and Snake remove our loincloths and are just left with our waistbands holding our sheathed knives and the two extra knives. Snake’s fully war painted torso looking even more impressive naked. I fix Jake with my brown eyes and say, “You will watch your men take us on but should you interfere”... I gesture with my hand and an arrow lands in the water at Jake’s feet.
Unsheathing his knife Snake approaches the cowboy called Billy who is the only one wearing jeans and as he does the cowboy nervously eyes the painted warrior before him and draws his own knife from his belt. They circle each other in a crouching stance, occasionally feigning a knife lunge. Suddenly Billy is no longer feigning but continues his lung towards Snake’s belly. Snake just manages to parry this lunge and as he does he grasps the wrist of Billy’s knife hand and follows through with a lunge at his lean exposed belly. Snake’s knife enters his navel with a >Spffllitt< as Billy cries out, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” Snake pulls his knife out and takes another lunge at his belly, “urrgghh!!” and yet again in Billy’s bleeding belly button, “Aiyeeee!!” and again with a final twist of his knife in the cowboy’s tortured navel, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” Snake then pulls his knife away as Billy, clutching at his bleeding belly, falls forward into the river, his blood billowing out into the water around him.
At 19 and the only ebony cowboy, Bantu has earned his place in Jake’s gang for being a ruthless killer. Bantu’s slim muscled body, outie navel and proud manhood made him a firm favourite in the gang. As I approach Bantu I throw the extra knife in the shallow water near his feet and say, “My white father told me about dark skin tribes but let’s see what colour blood you bleed dark skin!” Bantu, almost in one movement, picks the knife up and launches his lithe form at me which takes me by surprise and I am thrown back onto the river bank by his momentum landing on my back with him atop of me. His body now fully against mine, pinning me to the ground, we begin to struggle against each other to deliver a fatal strike to each other’s vitals. Bantu’s face is snarling down at me, his dark brown eyes piercing into mine. He is lean and strong, his warm muscled body flexing and squirming against mine as he tries to overpower my left defensive hand which is holding his knife away from my chest. The contrast of my coppery bronze skin tone wrestling against his ebony skin is unusually exciting for me and clearly for Bantu as I can feel his manhood becoming firmer against mine and I know he is aroused and soon the slippery tip of his manhood is between our squirming bellies. By now we are both grunting and sweating with the effort and I can taste the saltiness of his sweat dripping on my mouth and our bodies are glistening with it. My knife is close to where our bellies are touching and although he is holding onto the wrist of my knife hand I am starting to overpower him which makes him squirm even more on me. Gradually the blade of my knife works it’s point between our bellies and I slide it down until its tip catches against the mound of his outie navel to which he flexes his abdominals away with a sharpe intake of breath. His dark brown eyes are now showing signs of panic and I suddenly push my blade hard against the resistance of his outie navel with an audible >Spffllitt< my blade cuts through his outie and, at a shallow angle, down through belly muscle and into his guts, “AAARRRGGGHHH!!” he screams as I feel his hot blood pulse out of the wound onto my belly, his whole body bucking on me. He tries to raise himself off me but all that achieves is to now fully expose his naked ripped abdominals and rigid manhood and, pulling my knife out of his navel, “Urgghh!” and fully overcoming his defensive hand, I ram my blade up deep into his outie navel again, “AAARRRGGGHHH!!” I then use my knife’s blade to slice down through abdominal muscle and viscera from his navel down past the side of his rigid manhood, “AYIEEEEEE!!” He then slumps back down on me gasping and spasming for a moment and then still. As I roll his ebony body from me his six inch belly wound is just exposing the entrails within.
Snake then approaches another, naked, cowboy and pulls the extra knife from his waistband and throws it into the shallow water at the cowboy’s feet, saying, “Pick knife up!” Just as the cowboy reaches down to recover the knife another cowboy grabs Snake from behind in a throttle hold and at the same time grasping his knife arm. As they struggle against each other the first cowboy, now with knife in hand, sneers when he sees the incapacitated Huron. The Sioux bowmen can’t get a clean shot at Snake’s attackers but the Sioux youth Teepoe, seeing what is happening, springs at the naked back of the cowboy holding Snake in a choke hold. Teepoe manages to place him also in a throttle hold from behind and at the same time brings his knife around to the cowboys flexed side and stabs the blade in between his ribs, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” he cries out, releasing Snake. The naked cowboy’s belly is now fully exposed to Teepoe’s knife and Teepoe wastes no time in pulling the blade from the cowboy’s side and ramming it home in his taught lower belly and then slices upwards towards his navel, “Aiyeeee!!” he screams out through clenched teeth. Just as a loop of gut appears from the neat slit in his belly Teepoe releases the cowboy who slumps face down in the water. Meanwhile a weakened Snake just manages to avoid a knife lunge from the other cowboy who is now leaning forwards towards Snake. As the cowboy’s knife stabs empty air Snake brings his own knife straight up into the underbelly of the cowboy stabbing him just above the navel and twists the blade, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” he cries out as his momentum sends him straight into the water. As he thrashes in the water he turns belly up and Snake makes a series of quick jabs with his knife in and around the cowboys navel, “Urrgghh!!” and the water turns red with his blood.
At eighteen Jim, from Ohio, is the youngest cowboy and is also naked. He has a shock of dark brown hair and green eyes with a smattering of hair on his chest and belly. He had seen where Billy had dropped his knife and has now recovered it. The lithe seventeen year old Sioux youth, Washito, seeing that Jim is armed, faces off against him. Jim takes in the sight of the young bronzed and ripped Sioux brave now brandishing his weapon at him and is filled with a mixture of fear and admiration. Washito says in broken English, “Pale boy die by knife of Washito!” At that Jim slashes his knife at the belly of Washito but he easily avoids it. Washito crouches low in a classic knife fighting stance and again taunts Jim, “Pale boy fight like squaw!” This really annoys Jim and he lunges his knife at Washito again but Washito, in his youthful arrogance, is caught by surprise and Jim’s blade cuts a slash across Washito’s ripped abdominals just above his navel, “Aiyeeee!!” Washito grasps his bleeding belly with his left hand, his brown eyes staring at Jim in disbelief. Jim, knowing he now has an advantage cannot stop his manhood from responding to the wounded bronzed and toned physique of the Sioux youth before him. Jim retorts, “Injun not so brave now eh! I’ll just make that cut a little deeper for you.” With that Jim rushes at Washito with his knife again targeting the Sioux’s belly. Washito just manages to deflect Jim’s blade but, as Jim’s momentum brings him into bodily contact with the Sioux youth, Jim fails to defensively hold off Washito’s upward lunge which stabs deep into Jim’s lower belly between his erect manhood and navel, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” As Jim’s blood pulses from his deep gut wound it flows over his pubic hairs to his cock shaft and parts into two. Washito snarls into Jim’s pained green eyes and twists the knife, churning up his guts. As Washito pulls the bloodied knife from his lower abdomen Jim falls to his knees in the water clutching his savaged belly with both hands. The last image Jim sees is that of the admired Sioux youth and his last thought is that of regret at leaving his father’s homestead in Ohio at the tender age of 15.
While all this activity is going on another cowboy, Jed, makes a dash for the river bank where the gang’s holstered guns and clothing are piled up. Two arrows just miss his zigzagging sprint but Teepoe, his knife raised, is just behind Jed who is now diving to the ground into the stack of pistols. Jed just manages to unholster one before spinning around to meet the Sioux youth who is now on him, straddling him and leaning forward with his knife about to descend into Jed’s naked chest. Jed, in one action, brings the cold muzzle of his gun up into Teepoe’s warm naked belly and fires... >BANG< right into his navel. The brave’s whole body jerks up with the impact of the hot slug tearing through his abdominal wall and into his guts, and, as the brave starts to slump back down, Jed fires again >BANG< up into the belly of the young Sioux. This time the impact causes the brave to fall away to Jed’s left side coming to a rest, belly up, alongside Jed. The young Sioux’s body spasms twice and each time blood oozes from his wounded navel until he remains still. The arousal from killing the Sioux buck gives Jed such intense sensations that when he looks down at his manhood expecting to see it proud, erect and spasming his man seed, there, erect and the cause of his actual spasms is a wooden arrow shaft with its point buried in his lower belly just above his own erect and firm wood. As he stares down in disbelief his sudden realisation now focuses on the intense pain of the arrow in his guts. But all these mixed sensations are about to end abruptly by the delivery of another arrow right to the centre of his deep chest >Thooonk< and with a final gasp he slumps back to the ground.
As Jake is forced to witness the indian justice meted out to all of his gang he has had the occasional arrow shot past him by the Sioux bowmen as a reminder not to run for a weapon. Then Jake sees that the Sioux youth Washito has come close enough to make a grab at him. With that Jake launches himself at the back of the unsuspecting Washito and immediately places the brave in a choke hold with his left arm and grasps the youth’s knife hand with his right hand. The momentum of Jake’s lunge sends them both into the water but Jake soon regains his footing and emerges from the water with Washito’s body arched back by Jake’s firm choke hold exposing the Sioux brave’s already wounded wet abdominals. Again the Sioux bowmen cannot risk hitting one of their own and as myself and Snake make towards them Jake shouts, “Keep back injuns or I’ll gut this one open!” At this I signal to Snake to stay back as I sheath my own knife, keeping my eyes fixed on Jake. I say, “Let him lose and fight me for your freedom if you can defeat me!” Jake replies, “You lie injun, your other warriors will kill me even when I defeat you.” Just then, weakened by the prolonged choke hold, Washito’s left hand, which was trying to pull Jake’s left forearm from his throat, drops limp, quickly followed by Jake now easily removing the knife from Washito’s grasp. Before I can do or say anything Jake stares straight at me and brings Washito’s own knife in towards the brave’s exposed naked and glistening abdominals, stabbing deep >Spffllitt< to the left of his navel, “AAARRRGGGHHH!!” Washito screams through clenched teeth. Jake sneers and in one movement viciously slices his blade through the youth’s belly muscles, across his navel and over to his right. Washito bucks and writhes, still firmly held against the naked Jake, as his blood surges from his fatal wound and drenches his loincloth.
As Jake releases his hold the dying Sioux brave crumples into the water and Jake holds Washito’s knife in my direction, beckoning at me to come forward with his left hand saying, “I’m gonna open up that old wound in your belly and let your guts spill out into the river just like this here buck.” I am enraged by the death of the brave Washito and, unsheathing my knife, I rush at Jake and we meet head on, our naked bodies clash in full contact, each defensively holding off the other’s knife hand. As we struggle against each other we lose our footing and, still locked together, fall sideways into the shallow water. We roll over and over in the water trying to get the upper hand. Then, as if in mutual understanding, we both slowly emerge from the water, still locked in deadly combat until, soaking wet, we are standing again, belly to belly, chest to chest, cock to cock. We both feel the squirming power of each other’s wet flexing muscles and our manhoods involuntarily responding to this intense stimulation. Out of the corner of my eye I see the body of my white father lolling face down in the water and my adrenaline surges giving me extra strength to overpower Jake’s defensive hand and, as I roll my belly to expose Jake’s abdominals, my knife slowly gets closer. Jake looks down at the approaching blade and then into my brown eyes but his blue eyes are met by a look of hatred as I snarl, “Die you white devil!” But Jake is still managing to just hold my knife from entering his navel by flexing his belly away from my knife. I then catch him out by quickly pushing my knife straight down to his lower belly and am able to ram my blade forward into his lower abdominals just to the side of his erect manhood. I feel a resistance to my blade as it enters through his abdominal muscles with the clear sound of stabbed meat as Jake cries out, “AAARRRGGGHHH!!” I pull my knife from his now bleeding belly, his hot blood trailing down into the river. The shock of my belly stab on him makes his own knife drop from his hand and, as his body starts to shake, I put my left hand on his back to secure him for another stab to his naked and exposed belly. My knife’s movement is swift and accurate as it enters his outie navel with a >Spffllitt < and he cries out “URRGGHH!!” through clenched teeth. The force of my impact causes him to bend forward over my blade now buried deep in his guts. I then start to twist my knife around in his guts mincing them up as his whole body writhes and spasms. I think of completely gutting him here in the water but my blood feud is now satisfied and, as I pull my blade from his tortured guts and release my hold on him, he falls face down into the water with his blood billowing out around him turning the water red.
Now, as my white father has been avenged, Snake comes over to me and I closely embrace him, feeling the warmth and firmness of his body, and I say, “Brother warrior I thank the spirits you were here this day to help avenge my white father.” Snake’s brown eyes meet mine but the look in his eyes is strange and puzzles me... Snake’s left arm at my back becomes rigid as he pulls me toward him and then, suddenly, I feel my guts on fire! “Aaarrrggghhh!!” I cry out as Snake, still holding the knife now in my belly, says, “Brother I do this for my people. I must take your white father’s gold that is so precious to the French and British invaders of my tribal home and trade it for a better life for my people.” Just then one of the approaching Sioux bowmen, hearing my cry of pain, calls over to me. Snake pulls his knife from my belly and spins around to encounter the young brave. Clutching at my wound just to the right of my navel, which is where my white father had stabbed me four summers earlier, I pull my own knife and lunge at the distracted Huron warrior. Suddenly realising, Snake turns to meet me but my momentum sends us both falling into the river.
In the shallow water I am on top of Snake but I am weakened by my bleeding gut wound and his flexed lithe body is overpowering me as his knife again slowly makes its way to my belly despite my defensive grasp on his wrist. Although he also has a defensive hold on my knife hand I suddenly relax my attempts to stab at him and pull my knife away and down towards the stones in the riverbed, which makes Snake’s defensive hand impact hard against them, causing him to lose his defensive grip. With my knife free I quickly stab down into his wet war painted belly >Spffllitt< between his navel and manhood, “AAARRRGGGHHH!!” he cries out in pain as his overpowering of me diminishes. Enraged by my friend’s betrayal I tear my knife up through his taught abdominal muscles to his navel, “AIYEEEEEEEE!!” he cries through gritted teeth. I say down to him, “Snake we were as brothers, why have you betrayed my trust and friendship?” Snake’s pained brown eyes stare back at me as he raises his clenched knife straight up in the air to welcome the warrior’s death he knows I, his friend, will deliver him. With that I raise my knife up and then bring it down deep into his war painted chest at his left nipple angled towards his heart. He gasps, dropping his knife into the water and then, deliberately, places his hand on my shoulder before slumping, limp, into the waters which seem to envelop him.
As I stand up clutching at my bleeding belly wound my eyes again turn to my white father’s body and, as I start to move towards him, I slowly lose consciousness. When I come around I am in my teepee with my true father, an elder of my tribe, and my mother. I have again survived a battle wound that would have sent most warriors to their ancestors. As I continue to recover, my tribe and I thank the Great Spirit and, as we pay homage to the fallen young warriors, I find it in me to forgive Snake, my friend and brother warrior. Later, when fully recovered, I make a lone pilgrimage to my white father’s river valley and the great waterfall beyond to release the golden river dust back to where it belongs and thereby also releasing the spirits of my White Father and Snake from its evil hold.
