Author’s note: Kind readers, the names in this story are probably not correct usage of any native American language. The dialogue is not an attempt to ratify the movie stereotype, but is as I imagine would take place between peoples of limited common language. I have nothing but respect for the only true native Americans, and feel great sorrow at our usually pathetic portrayal of their society and personalities.
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Jenny Harker winced as she felt the vicious slap coming, then staggered under the impact of the blow. She would have fallen, if her father had not been holding her by her long, black hair. The slap was followed by another, and another, and another, until he had settled into a slow rhythm, a rhythm slowed by the whisky in his veins. She felt her lip split on the fifth slap, and tasted blood. She screamed, only to hear her father’s slurred, laughing comment, “T’aint nobudy go’n hear yuh, Shenny. This here cabin so fer out, nobudy but t’ prar’ dogs go’n hear yuh. Ahm go’n teach yuh, teach yuh t’ be good wom’n. “
It was the same every Saturday night, every Saturday night for the past three months. Before that, Jenny had seen it happen to her mother. After the evening meal, out would come the whisky jug, and later the beating would start. Her mother always sent her to bed in the loft, but Jenny had to listen, frightened out of her mind, with tears in her eyes, and praying God would strike her father dead that instant. The next day, father was always saying he was sorry, he didn’t know what came over him, and he would never do it again. The relationship between her mother and father during the week would be strained, she wincing when he walked by, him trying to hold her and tell her how much he loved her. Then Saturday would come again, and the reality of her life would again claim her in fear and tears.
Three months ago, a month after Jenny was nineteen, her mother died, and the reality became her own personal hell. After he tired of beating her, her father would “check on her development”, as he called it. This meant feeling her secret places to see if she was “growing up like a woman should.” The drunken groping never went farther; some vestige of humanity kept her father from anything else, but it increased her fear, her shame, and her hatred for him.
The Oklahoma cabin she had called home for the past ten months was indeed isolated. The nearest town was two days by horseback, three days by wagon, and Jenny had been there only once. Her father always made the trip, leaving Jenny and her mother alone on the prairie until he returned. Jenny lived for those days, and she suspected her mother did too. They had a gay time, Jenny learning about being a woman, sewing, and cooking; “for when you are married”, her mother had said. They took walks, picked flowers, and talked about almost anything except her father.
The next morning, Jenny woke, felt the familiar swelling on her face, and grimaced at the pain in her lip as she opened her mouth. Without bothering to change out of her night dress, she slipped quietly past her father, who was lying on the floor in his clothes from yesterday. Once outside, she went to the outhouse to relieve herself, and when finished, started back to the cabin. As she walked, she gazed at the absolute beauty of the country, turning to earthtones in the warm days and cool nights of the Oklahoma fall, and alive with the songs of the birds of the land, trees, and sky. As she scanned the horizon, her attention was drawn to small figures moving rapidly toward the cabin. As she watched, the figures became horses, with riders, and to her horror, she saw the riders become bare chested, brown skinned men with long black hair. Kiowas! Hadn’t the people in town warned them about living so far out?
Jenny ran to the house to wake her father. He rose, on unsteady legs, picked up his rifle, and staggered to the door. Through the one window, Jenny saw the riders dismount and begin walking to the cabin. Her father threw open the door and fired. A moment later, a heavy spear impaled her father and spiked him to the half open door. He hung there for a few moments, his mouth gaped, and then sagged against the spear. Jenny reached for the butcher knife on the table and hid it behind her back as four men burst into the cabin. With a whoop, one began to scalp her father, while the other three approached her, smiling and talking in a language she could not understand. After a short, laughing conversation, the youngest appearing brave came toward her. Timing her slash to meet his advance, Jenny carved a long gash into his chest. He yelped in pain, and jumped back. As a shorter, fatter man drew his knife and approached, she heard the third shout what could only be a leader’s command. The second brave retreated. The third, tall and with well defined bronzed muscles, and with shining, black, shoulder length hair, approached her stealthily. Again timing her attack, she slashed out at him. This time her knife met only air, but she received a powerful blow to her wrist which caused her to release the knife. It fell harmlessly to the cabin’s dirt floor. Jenny stood, deeply afraid, but filled with the fighting instinct born of that fear.
As she tried to strike out with her clawed hands, the bronze man grasped her wrist and his grip held her immobile. With his other hand, he turned her head back and forth, speaking to his companions as he did so. He pointed to her face, then to her father’s body, and grunted something. When Jenny didn’t answer, he did it again, and she realized he was asking if her father had done this. Jenny shook her head yes, afraid to speak and reveal her fear with her voice. The bronze man glowered at the corpse on the floor, put an arm around her slim waist, and carried her out of the cabin. Once outside, he placed her on a horse, and effortlessly leaped on behind her. A few moments later, the other three joined him, one carrying the rifle and knife, one leading her father’s horse, and the other holding her mother’s best shawl against his bleeding chest. As they rode away, Jenny looked back and saw yellow flames licking the cabin walls.
For three days they rode, stopping only for a drink of water from streams and a few hours rest. They started no fire, and Jenny shivered through the night in the thin, summer night dress she still wore. She slept little when they stopped because of the cold, and was too afraid to sleep during the day. On the third day, they approached a village, nestled in a wide valley, which consisted of twenty or so hide tipis. Jenny could see people gathering to greet the party, the adults talking and many children racing to and fro in anticipation. As they stopped in the midst of the crowd, her captor began speaking. As he spoke, the people’s expressions changed from interest to laughter when he pointed to the youth with her knife wound across his chest. He then dismounted, pulled her roughly from the horse, and pushed her toward a group of women in buckskin dresses.
The oldest of the group grabbed Jenny and stared at her face. As Jenny was thinking that this toothless old woman did not like her very much, the woman grabbed her night dress and tore it from her body. The woman then painfully pinched her firm breasts and soft, gracile hips, and stroked the lush “V” of black hair on her belly. She laughed and turned to the rest of the women, and spoke more unrecognizable words. Some of the other women nodded, and some laughed, but Jenny saw one woman with kindness and sympathy in her eyes. The woman was older than Jenny, by about ten years, and was not pretty; her nose had been broken, and she was fat through the belly, hips and thighs. She reminded Jenny of a beaten dog, wanting to play, but cowering in fear.
Jenny was pushed to an open fire where the toothless old woman pointed to the small pile of firewood, then pointed to a small grove of trees. She pointed again, and then pushed Jenny in the direction of the grove. “She wants firewood”, thought Jenny, and started toward the grove. The old matron followed her to the grove and watched as Jenny gathered wood. When Jenny picked up a branch still holding leaves, she was reprimanded with a stinging slap across her hips. Jenny had soon picked up an armload of wood, walked back to the fire and dumped the wood. The matron had followed, and pushed her back toward the grove. Jenny spent the rest of the day carrying firewood under the watchful eyes of most of the camp, and by nightfall had enough wood for the whole camp, and enough scrapes and scratches on her breasts and belly to cause her pain with every move. The matron nodded approval, and pushed Jenny into a ragged looking tipi. She landed on some worn, dirty hides placed on the floor, and looked up to see Broken Nose staring at her.
Broken Nose said something, and pointed to Jenny’s scrapes. She rummaged through a leather bag, and produced a small gut bag. After untying the top, Broken Nose inserted two fingers and scooped out a white greasy substance. Jenny recoiled as Broken Nose reached for her, but Broken Nose smiled a crooked smile, and touched her fingers lightly to Jenny’s scraped breast. She began rubbing the ointment into the damaged tissue, and Jenny smelled the scent of wild roses. Broken Nose treated each and every cut and scrape, and Jenny relaxed somewhat as the soft, slender fingertips massaged the pain away. As Broken Nose finished, someone threw a few chunks of meat through the tipi entrance. Broken Nose retrieved them, and gave some to Jenny. Jenny was famished and gulped down the meat without even tasting it. She looked to her companion for more, but received only a shrug and a handful of leaves with hairy surfaces. Broken Nose made signs for her to eat, and Jenny was so hungry she wolfed down the sour tasting stuff.
After they finished the leaves, Broken Nose stood up and removed her dress. Jenny’s mother had told her about pregnancy, and though Jenny had never seen a pregnant woman, she was sure that Broken Nose was with child. What had seemed like a fat belly was really a rounded bulge that started at her thighs and ended just under her ribs. Broken Nose saw her watching, and walked to Jenny. She placed Jenny’s hand on her swollen belly. Jenny felt a small poke, then another. Broken Nose smiled, made a quiet giggling sound, and then lay down. She was soon snoring softly, and after finding one of the cleaner hides to cover herself, Jenny also slept.
She awoke the next day in the dazed state brought by too little sleep for a too tired body. She remembered where she was, and pulled her hide close around her. Broken Nose stepped in the tipi entrance with more cooked meat, and gave Jenny her share. Jenny hadn’t realized that she was hungry until she smelled the meat, and she wolfed it down as quickly as she could. Broken Nose ate more slowly, and then beckoned Jenny to follow her outside. She led Jenny to some fresh deer hides piled a short distance from their tipi. Kneeling beside one hide, Broken Nose began to stake it to the ground with sharp, wooden pegs. She drove several of the pegs, and then motioned for Jenny to do the same. Jenny selected a hide and started to stake it down. She had driven a few pegs when Broken Nose stopped her by shaking her head and holding Jenny’s arm. She showed Jenny that she needed to stretch the hide as she staked. Jenny began again, stretching the hide as she went, and Broken Nose smiled her approval.
After they had staked out all the hides, Broken Nose handed Jenny a long bone with a flat sharpened end, and showed her how to scrape the hide to remove the bits of fat, bloody tissue, and membranes that remained after the animal was skinned. Jenny worked hard to scrape the hide down to the true skin, and when she was finished leaned back to examine her work. She smiled to herself, then looked at Broken Nose. Broken Nose was smiling back and nodding her head as if to say that Jenny had done well. They worked the rest of the day preparing the hides for tanning into leather, and late in the evening, retired to their tipi. As they sat resting after the day’s labor, a deep, male voice just outside the tipi called. Broken Nose rose, walked to the tipi entrance, and after a short conversation, returned with a large piece of venison skewered on a roasting stick. The meat was hot and brown and dripping juices on the floor hides as Broken Nose presented it to Jenny. Broken Nose then made sounds and gestures that Jenny did not understand, and she returned the words with silence and a confused look. Broken Nose looked irritated for a moment, then took the venison and divided it with her knife. She gave half to Jenny, and took the other half for herself. They ate in silence.
Broken Nose touched Jenny’s shoulder to get her attention. Broken Nose pointed to herself and said, “tohnapah.”
Jenny pointed to herself and said, “Jenny.” Broken Nose shook her head, and repeated the word. She then pointed to her breasts and said the word again.
