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POTTERY-SHARDS-5 "Song Bird's Story of Love"
{Part #5 of 9} Copyright 1997 by Vince Water
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"Song Bird's Story of Love"
| This account of Song Bird's continues immediately |
| after the novel, "Willow Bird Finds His Love". |
| If you've not read that story, this account will |
| still be able to carry you along. |
Fog hung over the sleeping tipis of an Omaha People called the
Kalinlepi. Theirs was a small tribe settled on the South Fork River in
what would become the white man's State of California. This was yet the
time of Indians and their ways.
Natural wonders surrounded the Indian camp. To the south were the
rolling plains where elk and deer could be hunted. Tall redwood trees
welcomed the rising of Father Sun to the east. Children forests stood in
the north. A great ocean was to the distant west. The People of this
story lived on the banks of a wide muddy river.
Father Sun rose above the ancient heads of the Tall Forest trees.
Under His heated hand, the fog began to melt away. It was full summer. He
rarely allowed the lazy clouds to sleep for too long upon Mother Earth.
Some of His two legged children were already up.
One of them was a lone warrior who was traveling through the northern
plains. This man carried something for the chief of the Kalinlepi People
with whom he hoped to gain a good trade. He was also after the truth to a
rumor that he'd heard. His name was Snarling Bear, a warrior of the Spear
Bearing People who hunted in the southern lands. His prize was a strange
boy of pale skin.
The pathetic, whimpering thing was held in the warrior's arms as they
rode north. No amount of threat, by sharp word or from hand strike could
quiet the boy. He was strange; not of any Indian People. Yet Snarling Bear
had heard that the aging chief of the Muddy River Tribe was in need of
sons.
This youth had come to him by mere chance. It provided him with the
means to safely visit with his enemies. Past wars between them were
still fresh in everyone's minds. Snarling Bear hoped that he could glean
out some important information under the guise of a trade.
A wide river came into sight. The warrior stopped at its bank to look
across. Fingers of thick fog hung above the slow moving water. It obscured
Snarling Bear's view of where the Kalinlepi People had set up their
tipis. Yet he knew they were across it. He kicked his horse to enter the
muddy river. It flowed past them in lazy currents. Not too deeply.
The cold water bit at the warrior's legs. His horse struggled against
the current. The boy cried out frightfully. That brought a swift slap
from the warrior's hand in warning yet the youth only wailed louder.
Tipis sprouted from the fog. Snarling Bear prepared to give signs of
peace since his arrival would be suspect. Their People may reason that
one warrior out of the morning fog could become many on a warpath. This
day, it was not so.
Snarling Bear's horse reached to the other side. No one had yet
challenged him. The warrior grimaced in wonder. 'Were these People so
sleepy in their warm robes that no one was keeping guard?' he wondered.
Dark thoughts filled his heart. He cast them away with a sigh. There was
little value of goods or honor here to be won if he were to lead a war
party upon them. It was a dying tribe. Their chief had to buy sons!
A low chuckle rose in the warrior's throat. He knew a thing that could
shame Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others. More than a rumor. It
strengthened his hand in the trade to be bargained between them. A
woman's cry drew his attention.
The warrior slowly dropped from his horse. His hands held the white boy
who kept whimpering like a weak girl. Doubt filled him. Would their chief
want this strange youth? Two days of travel had cost him for it. If the
trade didn't go through, he'd be stuck with him. Not a pleasant thought.
More unpleasant was his lone presence in the camp of his enemies. He
knew what his body would have to endure from torture if they didn't accept
his signs of peace. Doubt was cast away. He was a powerful warrior that
knew the ways of the Kalinlepi. They were an honorable People.
Honor was also in Snarling Bear's heart. Yet he knew many ploys that
had saved his life on more than one occasion. Planning was important as
much as the doing. The warrior felt up to the challenges before him. His
head filled with known things about the Kalinlepi. Especially about
their aged chief.
The secret that he carried was like a concealed dagger. Snarling Bear
hoped that it wouldn't have to be brought out. He detested any ploy that
required sneak or lying like what the false shamans used to astounded
stupid People through the crafting of magnificent trickery. Snarling Bear
was a proud warrior and a healer with deeds that needed no boasting.
The squaw's frightened cry brought out two men from their tipis. In
their hands were bows, hastily fitted with arrows. Snarling Bear brought
up his right hand in a peace gesture. The white boy trembled in his left
arm.
"Why have you come?" asked the bowmen through hand signs. They saw the
strange youth in the enemy warrior's arms. It spoke of kidnapping, or
worse.
"I'm here to see your chief," signed Snarling Bear. "I come in peace
and wish to trade with him."
More warriors joined the bowmen to confront Snarling Bear. They were
astounded to see a man from the Spear Bearing Tribe coming here to trade.
His horse held no bulky packs. No obvious weapons could be seen. The
Kalinlepi men wondered what this lone warrior had brought with him for
their chief.
A brave took the horse. Snarling Bear was escorted through camp to a
large tipi. Its door flap was dropped; a sure sign that the chief and his
wives were not yet up. It was left to Brave Heart, the greatest warrior
of the Kalinlepi People to risk his chief's wrath by awakening him.
Brave Heart carefully considered the matter. He was surprised by the
visit of an enemy warrior but honored his peaceful intent for a trade. He
led Snarling Bear and his white boy to a fire. There, he asked for them
to wait. Four warriors kept an honor guard over them. Brave Heart quickly
sent out scouts to look for more Spear Bearing warriors. He hoped that
none would be found.
Brave Heart returned to the big tipi. "Awaken my chief!" he shouted
through the door flap. "A warrior of the Spear Bearing People has come to
speak with you about a trade."
There was a flurry of activity from within. Chief He-who-walks-beyond-
all-others pulled himself from the arms of his younger wife. An older
woman, Yellow Deerskin, brought her husband an elk robe to wear.
Song Bird was slow to awaken. He had heard a man's shout but ignored it.
His parents busied themselves to receive guests. The boy peeked up through
the tipi's smoke hole for a sign of Father Sun's rising. Only an early
morning glow. He ignored the disturbances to return to sweet dreaming.
An erection laid between the boy's belly and his sleeping mat. Not
from having to piss. Song Bird had been dreaming of Willow Bird, an
older boy of fifteen. They were embraced to make love on the river bank.
Song Bird sighed in rememberance. They had been holding each other
close with their hard dicks pressed between their bellies. The river had
flowed past their oneness while they made love. His dream had been
reliving their first time.
More embraces had followed. Willow Bird had shown the youth how two
boys could make love. There were different ways of performing this. Song
Bird accepted each pleasurable rite and it had strengthened their binding
hearts and spirits. Yet a man had come between them and he was trying to
take Willow Bird away...
Song Bird laid down his weary head over his crossed arms. Sleep
returned. He eagerly followed its path to the past. Willow Bird stood
before him. His skin was browned from the summer sun. Strength showed in
his arms which reached out to him like a blossoming flower. A wonderful
happiness lit his face. The youth accepted the warmth of his friend's
arms around him. Sweet love making began as if it were the first time.
Their brown bellies rubbed together. Willow Bird's groin hair tickled
against Song Bird's smoothness. Their swollen dicks pressed together and
filled with sharp sensations. The youth held his breath. That always
deepened his thrills. A wet ending was near for him.
There were distracting sounds in the tipi. Willow Bird's face faded
from his mind's eye. Wood dropping into the fire pit had startled him.
Song Bird peered up from his folded arms at his birth mother. She smiled
back in assurance.
Yellow Deerskin studied her son's naked form. He was lying on his
belly. The bear's claw wounds over his butt had finally closed after the
shaman's healing rite five days ago. It had been a near thing. If not for
that man's exocist of Wa-sa-ba's raging spirit, her son would be dead.
Song Bird rested his head sideways over his crossed arms. He watched
his mother return to his father's side. She helped him put on some
moccasins. The sounds in the tipi prevented the boy from returning to
sleep. His dick ached for more dreaming. Willow Bird seemed far away.
Their sweet embrace faded like shadows before the rising sun. The youth
sighed with regret.
Something around Song Bird's finger drew his attention. Its silvery
glow brought a smile to the boy's face. Willow Bird had given him this
ring as a pledge of love. No one else in the tribe owned such a fine
metal ring from the Desert People. His friend had chanced upon it from
his dive in the river.
The day Song Bird had been gifted the ring would always be a sweet
rememberance for him. Willow Bird's long friendship with him had turned
to love. A love that was more than of the heart. The two boys had
embraced it in a pleasurable joining of their flesh.
Song Bird grinned. He rubbed over his silver ring with his left thumb,
secretly 'wishing' that Willow Bird was in his arms now. He was in need
of release. A deep sense of his friend's presence was felt so he became a
spirit bird to seek him out.
He flew to the snow capped mountains. Willow Bird was standing at the
edge of a small cold lake. A boy was with him. Song Bird dropped into the
youth's body and reached out to his dear friend in love.
There was a moment's reluctance in Willow Bird. Yet their bodies
embraced. Song Bird was in flesh that was not his. A boy of eleven. His
pole erected but nothing could come out at the end of love's pleasure.
That didn't concern Song Bird. He held his friend tightly and shared in
the joy of sweet male release. Their long dicks touched and gently rubbed
together.
Voices drew the youth's spirit back into his father's tipi. Song Bird
awakened to find himself making a lusty motion against his sleeping mat.
The thrills from his long pole felt good. His parents were busy readying
themselves and their tipi for guests. The boy rushed himself as if in a
contest. Would he be able to finish it before discovery?
His fingers tightly clenched the edges of his mat. Breaths were held
to deepen his penis thrills. His butt humped. No one seemed to notice the
boy's urgent act. He closed his eyes to fully embrace his need.
A sharp pain from his wounds had Song Bird crying out. At the same
moment, squirts came out of his dick. Pain and pleasure combined in a
strange kind of thrill for the boy. Its dark power startled him.
Yellow Deerskin came at her son's cry. She saw Song Bird panting over
his arms as if in great pain. Her gentle hands felt over the boy's claw
wounds. No blood flowed from them. She knelt at her son's side to
discover what ailed him.
Song Bird sheepishly turned his head to his mother. He tried to slow
his breaths. "I'm alright," he whispered. Yellow Deerskin softly nodded
in reply.
"Remain still," asked Yellow Deerskin. "Your wounds have only recently
closed. Listen to your pain. It's telling you to keep still and not to be
making a boy's lusty rite."
Song Bird's face burned from his mother's knowing words. He turned
away from her bright eyes. Below him, a wetness trickled down his belly.
Its mushroomy smell was strong.
When his mother left, Song Bird relaxed his bow-strung body. A
weariness came to him. He felt sleep returning. The dull pain from his
butt kept him from it though. The boy's thoughts returned to his dark
incident in the Tall Forest.
It had only been a handful of days ago when Willow Bird had taken him
on a Geas (quest) far from camp. They were to find red-capped mushrooms
and a living branch from a tall redwood tree. Big Horn had tasked his
friend to do this.
Big Horn was a young brave who had needed these things for a secret
male rite that he was preparing for Willow Bird. He was his friend's
monedo; an advisor to help him along on the path of his manhood. This man
had also been showing Willow Bird the pleasurable acts of male love.
In the Tall Forest, Willow Bird had left Song Bird in a tree while he
went in search of the mushrooms. A great black bear had attacked the boy
when he had climbed down. Its claws had struck his lower body. The boy
had been stunned. If not for his friend's rescue, he would surely have
been eaten.
The memory of it seemed like only yesterday to Song Bird. Five days
had passed. The youth had spent them in a painful twilight while he was
cared for. This morning had gifted him with sweet dreams. Noises in the
tipi had blown them away.
'Where was Willow Bird?' Song Bird wondered. Even though the passing
days of healing had been a painful blur, he recalled receiving guests.
The shaman had come each morning and night to look upon him. A girl had
sung a sweet song to try cheering him up. Women came bearing gifts of
food. Not one visit from his dear friend?
"You are looking well," whispered a young woman.
Song Bird turned his head at the voice. It was his father's second
wife. He smiled in reply to her kindness. She wasn't of their People but
had been traded to his father from a party of warriors from the Moss-bowl
Tribe. A strange condition had been placed upon his father to ensure her
safety with them.
"Where is Willow Bird?" asked Song Bird to the young woman with no name.
She paused from setting up the firewood to answer him. "I've heard
that Big Horn has taken him hunting to the south."
Something in the woman's voice caused Song Bird to worry. He wondered
why the two hadn't returned. An alarming thought struck him. Willow Bird
must have undergone the Mahyee-na rite that Big Horn had prepared for
him. It was a secret male rite that the boy feared would bind his
friend's heart to that man.
Big Horn was a powerful brave in the tribe. The chief's nephew. He
was a man who openly desired those of his sex. Willow Bird had been shown
the pleasurable acts that two males could embrace. What the brave had
taught him, he in turn had shared with Song Bird.
Five days had passed. Song Bird realized that his friend may already
be Big Horn's lover. It pained the boy to know that they were together.
Jealousy swelled in his heart. It hurt him that Willow Bird was away
having fun while he had lain in his father's tipi close to death.
The chief's voice boomed through the tipi. He gave his permission for
Brave Heart to enter. The warrior crouched near his chief's side and spoke
quick words. Song Bird grew wide in the eyes. What was a white boy doing
with a warrior from the Spear Bearing People? No one seemed to know.
Song Bird had heard of the White People. Their skin was like snow on
the mountain peaks. Their head hair ranged in color from Indian black,
brown tree bark to golden sunshine. No intelligent speech came from their
mouths though.
Big Horn carried one of their shiny knives. Its clever crafting had
made the metal blade sharper than any Indian flint knife. Song Bird's own
head cloth had come from a visiting White trader.
Excitement filled the faces of the two women. Especially the chief's
younger wife. A secret fire seemed to dance in her eyes. It worried Song
Bird. Not much was known about her except that she would remain safe
amongst the Kalinlepi People. Safe so long as she wasn't given any name
or shown to anyone outside of their tribe.
"Let him come," asked Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others.
Brave Heart left the tipi to fetch their unexpected guests. The chief
whispered instructions to his younger wife. Yellow Deerskin, who was Song
Bird's mother, sat behind her husband.
Song Bird heard a strange cry outside the tipi. He looked up from the
floor to see a warrior enter and greet his father. A white boy was
roughly thrown to the floor. Yellow Deerskin gasped in startled surprise.
Snarling Bear sat by the fire under the guarded stare of Brave Heart.
A pipe filled with tobacco was offered. The Spear Bearing warrior drew
smoke from it first as was expected from a guest.
The warrior returned the pipe to the Kalinlepi Chief with respect. He
signed his intent for a big trade between them. When the white youth
cried out too loudly, the warrior kicked him. Only a louder noise
resulted. It didn't interfere with the signed words he formed with his
hands to communicate.
Song Bird studied the strange white boy. His hair was sun colored.
Freckles dotted his pale face with deep blue eyes staring out from it. He
was strangely attired. Blue cloth covered both arms and all of his legs.
Words without meaning sprang from his lips whenever he cried out.
"Here is a boy child that I wish to offer you in trade," signed
Snarling Bear. "I found him on my hunt to the south and the east. He was
the only survivor from a fire that swallowed up their wooden dwelling. Is
there anyone in your tribe that would want to take him for a son?"
Snarling Bear kept his smile within. He wondered if the Kalinlepi Chief
realized that he knew of his dark secret. A man should be able to make
all the sons he needed. This old man had never sired one. That should
make him very interested in this boy and to win his silence, he reasoned.
The old man looked upon the lad with eyes revealing his desire to have
him. The boy appeared to be the same age as Song Bird, his only son of
twelve summers. The boy's golden hair and white skin reminded him of
Father Sun's face in the clouds. It was obvious the he wasn't of any
Indian People.
It pained the chief to see the white youth crying. The warrior's
attempts to quiet him accomplished nothing except to frighten the boy
further. A frown formed on the old man's lips. He kept a long silence to
annoy the Spear Bearing man.
Song Bird wished that he could go to the boy's side and try calming
him. He was stuck over his sleeping mat like a sunning turtle. His wounds
were grave. He was lucky to be alive but more days of pain would have to
be endured for it.
The tipi felt heavy in the enduring silence between the two men. Song
Bird noticed a strange longing in his father's eyes. He wondered about it.
Did he know of someone in the tribe who would want this strange youth?
"There may be someone interested to trade for him," signed the chief.
"Is his body still sound after your long journey?"
Snarling Bear nodded in triumph. Though this chief disliked his rough
treatment of the boy, there was going to be a trade happening between
them. The only thing to settle now was how much would come to his hands
from it and what he could confirm about the rumors that he heard. A bold
plan formed in his head.
"I warn you, this one will not be an easy son to raise!" explained
Snarling Bear. "He knows not how to speak; no hand gesturing. The boy
knows nothing about how to live on the land. Only to my hand and foot
will he listen to and then he mostly cries."
The chief released a loud sigh. "I will make the trade for him. What
do you want?"
Snarling Bear kept a plain face. His outstretching hands placed that
question back into the old man's lap. An undesirable position for any
bargainer.
Song Bird's eyes widened in surprise. 'His father wanted this boy for
himself! But why?' The expression on Yellow Deerskin's face was one of
sadness mixed with some other emotion. His father's younger wife sat
hidden in the far corner.
An explanation came to Song Bird. Other than himself, no more children
have been born to either of his father's wives. Adoption was the only way
for the chief to gain another son.
Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others pointed to a pile of animal
skins by the tipi wall. These Yellow Deerskin fetched for him. The chief
took the four buffalo hides and dropped them in front of Snarling Bear.
Six elk skins were also offered. There was no response from the warrior
to the growing pile.
Song Bird was amazed. His father's offering was becoming the price a
man pays for a new wife! And still the warrior seemed unsatisfied. There
were no more skins to give. An uneasy silence filled the tipi.
The white boy reached out to the fire's warmth. He no longer cried. The
chief lowered his challenging eyes from Snarling Bear to gaze at the youth
in wonder. The first stirrings of love for him filled the old man's heart.
Without any regrets, the chief reached for his necklace and removed
it. This he brought to the warrior's outstretching hand. It had come to
him years ago through hard bargaining. The necklace was a wonderous
crafting of bright metal and pretty blue stones from the Desert People. A
great prize.
"You've revealed your strong desire for this white youth," signed
Snarling Bear. "It's too much to give with the skins."
"Is that all we're trading for?" the chief replied. He gestured for
his younger wife to attend him. She sat near her husband's side and
smiled at the startled warrior.
Recognition filled Snarling Bear's face. He studied the young woman
to be sure of it. Yes. He knew her! His hands shook from strong emotion,
almost causing him to drop the necklace. The harsh mood in him from
trading changed to one of happiness. A knowing look came from the wise
chief's eyes.
"I need to speak some private things with this warrior," the chief
asked of Brave Heart. "Please wait outside."
The Kalinlepi warrior stirred from his guarded spot by the fire. His
chief's words surprised him yet he obeyed. The door skin dropped down
after his hasty departure.
"You knew," signed Snarling Bear.
The old man nodded. "My young wife has told me much about the Spear
Bearing People. She's filled my days with happiness and I hope that I've
given her an equal amount in return. It was not my hand that had stolen
her away from your tribe. She came to my tipi through trade, not unlike
the one that we're conducting for this white boy. Speak to her and ask."
Words flowed between Snarling Bear and the chief's younger wife. They
spoke in the tongue of the Spear Bearing People. What was said remained
between the two of them. It was a brief yet joyous reunion between a
brother and his little sister.
A noticeable change of mood came over the stern warrior. He smiled
openly. He became like one who was a long departed kinsman on a happy
visit.
"It's a good thing that has happened this day!" announced the old
chief. "A new son comes to my tipi. A woman of your People has given her
assurance that she's alive and well amongst us. Will you pass this onto
her kinsfolk?"
Snarling Bear signed, "it already has. Our mother will be pleased by
the news. This fine necklace will be presented to her as a gift from you,
her son-in-law."
Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others smiled. It surprised him to learn
that his younger wife was this warrior's sister. That made them
brothers-in-law. An important thought dropped into the chief's head. It
brought the hope of a stronger peace between their two Peoples.
Song Bird marveled at his father's maneuvering. Yet another clever
thing that he's seen unfolded inside their tipi. The boy wondered if
he'll ever become as wise as his father when becoming a chief himself.
Snarling Bear asked something of his sister. She smiled and announced,
"my name is Dew-on-the-petals. No longer will you have to fear the wrath
of my kinsfolk for having taken me into your tipi."
The old chief nodded his thanks. "That is a good name, my wife. My new
son also has a name which I'll announce after his adoption ritual." He
raised his arms in command. "Fetch water to bathe my new son. I want
every drop of his white blood cleansed from him!"
Yellow Deerskin left the tipi to do her husband's bidding. With the
chief's permission, his younger wife went outside to walk with her
brother and talk. That left the old man with Song Bird and the white boy
who was to become his second son.
Song Bird called out to his father. The old man rose his weary bones
from the warmth of the fire to attend him. He knew what troubled his son.
Crafted words formed in his head.
The chief settled near his first son. He was pleased that the deep
wounds over the boy's backside were finally closing. His near-death
encounter with the bear had made it plain to the old man that he needed
more sons in his tipi.
"Know that I'm very proud of you Song Bird," he began. "But you are
only one son and an old chief needs many if he's to be taken care of in
his declining years ahead." The old man paused in deep thought. He
nodded to something hidden within his heart that he's decided to finally
share with his son.
"I have something to tell you... now that the proper time has come,"
the man explained. "Know that it changes nothing between us for always
are you my first son and loved by me."
The strong words frightened Song Bird. He wondered what secrets his
father was going to be sharing with him.
"Inspite of taking a second wife, no children have come to my tipi,"
the man explain. "The problem lies within me. I suspected this thirteen
years ago. My desire for a son had me asking a favor upon a trusted
warrior to seed my first wife, your mother. You are the result of their
secret union."
Song Bird's eyes grew wide as full moons. His voice was lost to him.
Yet his father had more words to speak.
"When you were born, I knew that your mother was fertile. My loins
tried to get her with sons of my own. None came. The truth became certain
when I failed to sire children in my younger wife. It's a shameful secret
that many now suspect."
Song Bird could only nod. He understood what weapon was in the Spear
Bearing warrior's hand during the trade and how his father had paid a big
price to deflect bringing him shame.
"Keep this thing to yourself," the man commanded. "No one living today
knows the truth of your birth accept me, your mother and yourself. Let me
hear that you'll keep it so!"
Song Bird recovered from his shock. He wet his lips in preparation to
speak his solemn oath. "I swear to keep close to my heart what you've
told me, my father. To no other will your secret become known!"
"I hear your oath and know not a time when you have broken any other,"
the man replied as expected of him.
An alarming thought came to Song Bird. "The man who spermed my mother
to make me... is dead?" he asked.
The old man nodded his head. His eyes fell to the ground when he
spoke. "He is. The trusted warrior who performed in my place was Willow
Bird's father."
Song Bird silently mouthed the name of his friend's father. He
respected the taboo that prevented anyone from uttering a name of the dead
out loud. Many things became clear. Willow Bird's father had been very
close, taking both his sons on fishing trips and spending much time
together. The boys also had similar names. Song Bird had always felt a
close bond to Willow Bird like that of a blood brother. They actually
were.
That realization struck Song Bird like a lightning bolt. 'They were
half brothers... and secret lovers. Did his father know this?' he
wondered with great fear.
The worried expression filling the old man's face drew Song Bird's
attention. His shocked silence had troubled him. "I understand much and
agree that this changes nothing between us," the boy whispered. "Must I
keep from Willow Bird the truth of my birth?"
A long silence came between the old man and his son. The matter was
being carefully considered. Finally, the man spoke. He decided to share
all that he knew about the two boys.
"I know what's been going on between the two of you," the chief spoke
with growing anger. "The shaman and Big Horn have told me so. Willow Bird
should not have shown you the Mahyee-na acts! I've stayed my wrath
because he had saved you from the bear. But no more must he be allowed to
lay his lustful hands upon you, my son. He'll soon be named a brave and
accountable for such actions."
A deep shock held Song Bird to his mat like duck legs in a frozen
pond. He worried for Willow Bird and himself. Was word spreading through
the tribe of their sexual bonding? Gossip was a terrible thing to endure.
The old man's expression softened. He had seen the affect of his
words on his frightened son. It pained him for many reasons. A decision
came to him.
"When Willow Bird returns, you may tell him that you're his half
brother. Bind him in an oath of silence first! Tell him also to keep his
lustful hands off of you; he has Big Horn to satisfy his adult needs.
All this you must do, my son. I command you as your father and as chief
of this tribe!"
Song Bird's heart was in great pain. He could no longer embrace Willow
Bird with love! A low sound came from the boy's throat. It saddened the
old man to see his son's agony.
Song Bird saw the stern expression on his father's face. He was
waiting for a reply. "I will do as you ask, my father, though it pains
me so much that I hurt!"
The old chief gripped his son's shoulder and he whispered, "it must be
so."
Tears filled the boy's eyes. He felt very small in front of his
father so he quickly wiped them away with his arm. It was not a good
thing for a boy to show weakness. A movement near the tipi doorway drew
his attention.
"The white boy is trying to escape!" shouted Song Bird.
The chief sprang after the youth. It was Snarling Bear who caught him
outside the door. He brought the struggling boy inside. Following behind
him was the chief's younger wife carrying a skin pouch filled with water.
Yellow Deerskin held a folded elk skin.
The old man took hold of the white boy and spoke softly to quiet him.
"Though you do not yet understand my words, hear the love that I have for
a new son. Quiet yourself and know that soon you'll have two new mothers
and a brother!"
Preparations for the adoption rite were quickly made. The scrap of elk
skin was placed under the white boy's feet. Both women removed his
clothes while their husband held him. Song Bird watched it all.
The coarse blue cloth that covered the boy was strange. It was of
length in the arms and legs to seem more like cold weather apparel.
Underneath, he wore thin white pants made of a soft material not unlike
Song Bird's head cloth.
Water was poured over the naked youth by Dew-on-the-petals. Both women
worked over the boy's pale skin with their hands to rub his white blood
out. He tried to escape his ritual bath. Snarling Bear chuckled. Song
Bird looked over his brother's body with much interest.
His butt was very rounded; unlike any Indian boy. What drew Song
Bird's attention were the boy's loins. There was no thick skin around his
penis. Its pink head could be seen even in its limp state.
There were fine hairs all over the white boy's body. Light in color
like his head hair. Song Bird had a strange longing to feel over them
with his hand. He was glad for being stuck on his mat. Beneath him, an
erection had grown along his belly.
Once the women had scrubbed every part of the boy's body, the old man
lifted him from the soggy ground cloth. He announced in a proud voice,
"you are adopted into a great family; one of us now by strong law and
custom. Henceforth, your name shall be Yellow Hair, my second son!"
The bewildered white boy looked around at the many smiling faces. The
Indians in this tipi were kind to him. He wondered if this was going to
be his new home.
The Indian chief sat down before the fire with his new son in his
lap. A bowl of deer meat was brought to them by Yellow Deerskin. The old
man handed a piece to Yellow Hair. He greedily ate it. The man joined
him. After a short time, the bowl was emptied. The youth asked for more.
Song Bird grinned at his brother's plea and wasn't surprised when the
bowl was taken away instead. He knew that the white boy has much to learn
before becoming one of the People. The first thing Song Bird vowed to
teach him was how to speak. After that, the other things he needed to
learn would come.
A celebration was made for the old man's adoption of a second son.
Guests came to congratulate their chief. The bewildered white boy had to
endure the many smiling Indian faces and their fond pinches that he
received. He was the only white person ever to become a part of the
Kalinlepi Tribe.
During the day, little notice was given to Song Bird. He watched his
father's friends come to look upon his new son. Strong talk was made with
the Spear Bearing warrior on the hopes of forging a peace between their
two Peoples. Both events gave his father much prestige.
The shaman looked upon Song Bird's wounds in the evening. He was
pleased by their progress and unconcerned that the boy was still feeling
pain. He explained it as the death whispers of Wa-sa-ba's spirit. The
youth would have to endure it for a while longer.
Snarling Bear took an interest in the shaman's medicine. His sister
told him about the boy's bear attack and how the angry spirit had been
cast out. When the warrior offered to ease the boy's pain with his own
medicine, his sister advised against it. He was told that the shaman was
a man who could be easily angered by another's interference.
Night came. Snarling Bear was invited to sleep in the chief's tipi. It
was a great honor bestowed upon a once enemy and a sign of trust by the
chief for his brother-in-law. The tipi seemed crowded to Song Bird. His
father's family had grown much that day.
Yellow Hair was placed on a mat next to Song Bird. The white boy was
quick to fall asleep. He laid on his side and made soft breathing noises
through his nose. Song Bird had too many thoughts swirling around in his
head to sleep. His butt wounds also pained him.
An even deeper hurt came from his heart. He knew that Willow Bird was
lost to him. Even if Big Horn hadn't stolen his friend's heart, their own
love was denied them by strong command from his father. Tears filled the
boy's eyes.
Song Bird surrendered to his pain. The darkness hid it. The boy
sobbed in his arms at the great woe his life had become. He had lost a
special friendship. Everyone seemed to know about his love for Willow
Bird and that they had sexually expressed it. The youth wondered how he
would endure the humiliation that the days ahead would bring him.
A warmth over his shoulder startled Song Bird. He lifted his head from
his crossed arms but he couldn't make out who it was. The tipi was dark.
Tears swam in his eyes which he quickly wiped away. The hand pulled away.
Was it his father?
A scuffling sound of cloth drew his attention. The tiny hairs at the
back of Song Bird's neck prickled up. This was Snarling Bear kneeling at
his side! Something crunched in the warrior's hands. He spit into them.
The boy became fearful.
Fingers ran down Song Bird's back. The man's hand found his butt and
patted it. There was something wet touching his wounds. A coolness
quickly spread into them. His pain ended.
Song Bird looked into the warrior's dark face. He sensed something
powerful from him. 'Was Snarling Bear a shaman?' the boy wondered.
The warrior held Song Bird's butt with a man's lust for it. He enjoyed
feeling over the boy's soft skin there. An erection formed in the man's
breechclout. The darkness hid it. Snarling Bear was attracted to the
youth but his act now was for healing and an ease to the boy's pain.
Yellow Hair drew the warrior's attention. The white boy slept naked
over his mat like any Indian youth though his pale skin and golden hair
would always set him apart. The warrior had spent a few days enjoying his
struggling body. Nothing lustful had been achieved from it though.
Perhaps that could change.
Snarling Bear sighed. This day had returned to him a long lost
sister. A hope for peace between their Peoples had also been gained. He
would return to his tribe with valuable skins and the great honor of
having faced his enemies and making them friends. His lust for the Muddy
River Tribe boys would have to be kept hidden away.
The man's hand left Song Bird's butt. His wounds felt chilled by ice
as intense as if they were burning. A strong hand came to the boy's
shoulder. The warrior whispered some words into his ear. The power of
them made the boy dizzy. He laid his heavy head down over his arms. Sleep
overcame him.
Yellow Hair's dreams were stirred by the warrior's words. Power filled
the boy's head. It brought back memories. Bad ones. Snarling Bear
returned to his sleeping mat without noticing the storm raging in Song
Bird's new brother.
Lightning filled the white boy's dreams. It crashed down from the
night heavens but without the needed rain. Pa's crops were withering. The
storm had brought a hope for relief but the brilliant flashes mocked the
dry land.
Johan ran like a wild boy beneath the lit-up sky. He felt terribly
scared. Yet his crazy flight also excited him. He flew through the fields
towards his parent's cabin. All around him, blitzen flashed and donner
crashed. The air remained dry though.
The smell of flint was strong. Johan wondered why God was punishing
them. No rain. Lightning bolts sprang from His dark billowing hands like
arrows. They struck the earth. The youth wondered what he or his parents
had done to earn such wrath.
Johan emerged from the corn fields. A jolt went through him by what he
saw. The cabin was ablaze. He heard his mom's terrified scream when the
roof crashed in. Flames shot upwards.
The boy couldn't believe it. In only a moment, his home was destroyed
and his parents dead. Tears swam in his eyes. A red glow filled his
sight. He fell to the ground like a rag doll.
A strong hand came to the youth's shoulder. Strange words were spoken
in his ear that he couldn't understand. His attention was taken from the
horrible fire to a dark-skinned man. Johan trembled as if chilled. A tall
Indian had captured him! The warrior took him away from the ruins of his
life.
Two days passed in a daze for Johan. He was carried north in the
warrior's arms. The horse ride became a torture for him. He didn't know
where he was being taken or what plans the Indian warrior had for him.
They crossed a wide river to tipis.
Smiling faces. Johan reached out to the warmth of a fire. An old man
fed him. The outer coverings of his old life melted away in the hands of
two women. An Indian boy smiled at him.
A new home. Johan knew that this was going to be the place of his new
life. He saw his pale body turning dark from the summer sun. The Indian
boys taught him fun games. He learned new things. From a great distance,
a voice called out to him. 'Was that my father calling me back home?'
Early the next morning, Yellow Deerskin labored to make a breechclout
for her husband's new son. The two boys still slept. Snarling Bear
feigned sleep next to them. She was happy for the reunion of her
husband's younger wife with her brother. The bonds of family made for a
good foundation of peace between their two Peoples. The old woman hoped
it would be proven so.
The soft yellow hide took shape in the old woman's hands. She had cut
two cloths and a thong belt for the pale boy to make use as a
breechclout. Thoughts swirled around in her head while she labored.
'Snarling Bear was more than a warrior,' thought Yellow Deerskin. She
had heard the man's whispered words in the night over her son. In the
morning, she saw the dried paste over Song Bird's wounds. He had slept
soundly through the night because of it. 'Was Snarling Bear a healer or
something more?'
The old woman's thoughts turned in another direction. Her husband's
adoption had proven to be a worthy risk. She knew that he wouldn't have
allowed his younger wife to be seeded by another to bring him children.
Snarling Bear's trade of the white boy had given the chief what he needed
without admitting to his impotence. The tribe believed that he had taken
the youth into his tipi as a gift and that he paid the warrior a peace
offering for having taken his sister for wife.
Yellow Deerskin smiled. She was glad that her son finally knew the
truth of his birth. The burden of keeping that secret had grown heavy in
her heart with the passing years. Willow Bird and Song Bird were half
brothers. Their friendship had become strong though unaware of their true
relation.
There were still mysteries to be solved by the old woman. Something
had angered her husband towards Willow Bird. Did her chief fear for that
boy to learn how Song Bird was his half brother? Yellow Deerskin couldn't
imagine anything but happiness to be felt by the two boys to learn that
they shared a father. There was something more going on that only the
shaman and her husband knew about.
The white youth stirred from his sleep. He half rose from the ground
before becoming aware of his nude appearance. An erection stuck out from
his body. He glanced at the old squaw with much embarrassment. Yet his
need was great and immediate.
Yellow Deerskin grimaced. She knew what pained the youth but his
struggle from yesterday was a reminder of her old age. If she were to
take the boy outside, he could manage to break away from her and escape.
Snarling Bear rose from his mat. He smiled at the white youth and took
him in hand. They quietly left the tipi. A good point was weighed in
Yellow Deerskin's heart in favor for that warrior. He was proving to be a
good man. She looked over the two cloths in her hands for any finishing
cuts needing to be made. It was important that the boy make a good
impression as the chief's new son.
The cool morning air assaulted the German boy. Johan felt naked
without his blue jeans and woolen shirt. Fog hung in the trees. It also
swirled in lazy patterns over the paths leading to the river. A plan of
escape was tempting to the youth.
The warrior took the white boy firmly in hand to the woods. They
traveled a ways into them before stopping. There was an awkward pause
before the youth could get himself to piss. The Indian warrior watched it.
A scuffling of cloth drew the boy's attention. He saw the man bring
out his penis from his front flap. It was brown and thickly skinned. The
boy's eyes were stuck to it. Their yellow streams crossed over the ground
in an uneasy silence.
Johan finished. He watched the Indian warrior pull over his penis to
bring all his urine out. The act took longer than it should. The boy saw
a grin on the man's face. It frightened him. The stretching out of the
man's thick skin looked more like the pleasurable act that the boy had
often performed. To see a man doing it was strange.
There were marked differences between their bodies, the youth noticed.
His body was smaller and without the black hair that grew from the man's
groin. His erecting pink dick was no match for the warrior's size. The
Indian bore a long, thickly skinned cock with a brown knob that popped
out with each of the man's strokes. Johan was fascinated by the warrior's
performance.
Johan looked around to see if anyone was watching. A strong hand came
to his shoulder, startling him. The warrior continued to pull over his
long dick while preventing the white boy from escaping. There was a
strange excitement from feeling the man's body whispering against his. It
made the youth tremble.
Dark eyes from the man bore into the youth. A strong power was
glowing in them. It frightened Johan. He wanted to leap from the man's
grip and run but his feet were stuck to the ground. His eyes were glued
to the warrior's naked act. Against the boy's belly, his erection ached
for attention. Yet he felt too shy to grab it.
Snarling Bear softly spoke to the white boy. He asked the youth to
pull over his own dick. It was long and in obvious need of handling. The
warrior shook his head in dismay. Even though the white boy didn't know
his speech, he should know what any male knew about gaining pleasure from
an erection. 'Why didn't he perform it?'
The warrior's hand roamed down the boy's soft body. It came to rest
over the pale butt. A strong lust filled the man for it. He pushed a
finger between the boy's cheeks for its moist spot. How he longed to
stick his dick up the tight hole! This white youth would be spared. He
was now the son of a chief of the Muddy River Tribe and beyond Snarling
Bear's responsibility.
A wicked grin filled the warrior's face. Boys of his tribe had to
endure the Growing-up rite that he eagerly performed. Youths of twelve
were honored to have their bodies receive his strong manly seed. It was a
particular rite of the Spear Bearing Tribe. He didn't think that these
People practiced it.
That didn't prevent Snarling Bear from enjoying the feel of the white
boy's ass. His fingers squeezed the soft warm cheeks. A strong sense of
pleasure came from it. The man pulled over his cock with increasing
thrills. It bothered him that the youth didn't join into it. The warrior
would show him how.
Johan gasped. The warrior's hand had taken his stiff dick. Its
handling brought him sharp thrills. More than if he were to pull on it
himself. The youth was getting caught up by the increasing pleasure. His
eyes closed. He forgot about escape.
Snarling Bear released his dick to fetch something from his sacred
bundle. It was difficult to reach into the small pouch at his side with
only one hand. His fingers drew a pinch of powdered red mushrooms. This
he brought to the white boy's nose. The powerful drug was taken into the
youth with his breath.
A knowing grin filled the warrior's face. He had used this powder on
the boys undergoing his Growing-up rite. It made them more susceptible
to the man's will.
Snarling Bear reached low over the boy for his pale rear end. He pulled
over its softness in a timed beat to his left hand's dick pulling. The
warrior smiled. He had taken all of the white boy's nakedness into his
hungry hands. He would teach this youth a common male pleasure.
Johan looked down at himself. He watched the man's hands playing his
body. Clenched fingers were tight around his dick. In back of him, the
warrior's hand pushed on his butt to force his thrusts. The boy was
trapped by strong sensations from sex. They were frightening. A bitter
sting filled his nostrils.
Something dropped over Johan's feet. He saw that the warrior had
removed his breechclout. They were both naked in the deep woods. A man
of dark skin reached around the pale body of a boy and embraced him.
Their long dicks wrestled between their bellies as if doing battle. An
unmatched contest.
Johan gasped from the sensation. It felt like the Indian man was
attacking him somehow. Strong hands found his rear end and pulled over its
cheeks. The harsh meeting of their dicks seemed like male rape. Yet the boy
surrendered to it. The wild man in his arms was bringing him much pleasure.
Snarling Bear was pleased. The white boy felt soft in his hungry arms.
They shared warmth in the cool morning while making love. The man felt
small hands reach around his waist and hold fast to his humping butt. He
wondered if this youth had shared the naked embrace of a man before.
Johan closed his eyes in concentration. He clung to the man's strong
body against the swirling vortex of emotions that threatened to
overwhelm him. The boy wanted to escape. Yet his tingling dick made him
dance to this man's lusty rite. He could feel his heart pounding inside
of his chest. Breaths raced through his open mouth. A sharp thrill surged
through his long dick and erupted from him. He had come out!
Snarling Bear heard the boy's revealing cry. A warmth was felt against
his belly. He smiled at the accomplishment. A boy's sweet seed had
annointed his angry body. He hoped that his lusty spirit would be
appeased by it.
The warrior felt his thrusts become slippery against the pale boy. He
smelled the strong odor of sperm. It excited him to be finishing their
male dance. With a strong grip over the boy's ass, the man brought his
mighty spear to fruitation. He growled out like a bear when heavy squirts
flew from his cock.
Johan looked down between their heaving bodies. He saw the Indian's
thick seed flying to his chest. It stuck to him like greasy white blobs.
The man's harsh grip to his butt relaxed. Their bodies slowed against one
another. Loud breaths filled the still morning. A greyness filled the
boy's eyes...
Fog swirled in the tree branches. Johan felt that he was a bird flying
through them. Escape! His body was trapped but his spirit was a free one.
He became one with the morning fog.
Trees rushed past him. He flew like a bird through the forest; away
from his captor. A man's legs were no match for wings. The boy reached a
wide river. Fog hung above it. He changed his shape to that of a dark mud
fish. The cold water was a welcome to his slimy body.
The call of the boy's father grew in his ears. He swam towards it.
Darkness. The muddy river bottom was navigated by his sensitive whiskers.
He felt a stick poking into his body. A flip from his tail got him away
from it.
Snarling Bear bore the full weight of the unconscious boy next to
him. It surprised him that their love making had been too intense for
the youth to endure. Perhaps the powder was too strong. The warrior
chuckled. He recalled how an eleven year old boy named Stick-legs had
also fainted during sex. The pain from having his butt filled with the
man's fleshy spear had been part of the cause.
A lusty thought filled the warrior's head. 'This white youth wouldn't
feel any pain from getting his hole pierced,' he realized. The man shook
his head. His dick was no longer hard. There was no urgent need in him.
It had already come out to the boy's chest.
Snarling Bear turned to another plan. One that would gift the white
youth with his powerful seed as other boys had been given but without the
brutal act. He held Yellow Hair's limp body in one arm while gathering up
some of his thick seed from the boy's chest. He turned the youth around.
His dick pressed against the pale butt.
Keeping their embrace was difficult. The warrior's right arm ached
from keeping the sleeping boy on his feet. His plan only needed a moment
to fulfill itself though.
With his filled left hand, Snarling Bear reached into the youth's
butt to find its entrance. He touched upon it. A nice tight butthole!
The thick sperm in his hand flowed down one finger and was pushed deep
inside. He repeated the motion until all his seed was put inside.
Snarling Bear turned the youth's back to him. With a strong grip
around the boy's chest and his hands locked over it, he held their
bodies close together. His penis pushed against the pale butt. A grim
smile came to the man's face. His 'Growing-up' rite was almost completed.
The warrior spoke the closing words. "From a proven man's flesh is
given power unto the boy. Take it into your very being! It makes us one."
A deep satisfaction came to Snarling Bear. He had completed the sacred
rite of his People for this fortunate youth. Yellow Hair would grow up
into a man.
The sound of a stick breaking filled Snarling Bear with dread. He was
worried about spying eyes. His glance through the trees found nothing.
'Perhaps it was only an animal,' he thought.
The warrior scooped up his breechclout and rushed the boy in his arms
towards the river. Thick fog hid their nakedness. Snarling Bear hoped
that no one had witnessed their 'embrace.'
Johan was still deep in his vision. He was swimming along the river's
bottom to where he had heard his father's call. He was near! A wall of
fire blocked him. In his slimy fish skin, he couldn't pass through the
terrible heat. A woman screamed for help. The boy felt powerless to help
her.
Johan had troubles of his own. He felt a fisherman's forked stick. It
stuck him in the tail and held him fast against the mud. No escape! He
assumed his naked boy's skin. A dark-skinned man pulled him from the river.
A splash of cold water awakened the boy from his dreaming. Strange
words were spoken in his ear. A warrior's low voice. Another splash of
water assaulted his face and chest. Johan sputtered. He felt the warm arm
of a man holding him at the river's edge. The sky was a foggy white.
Johan returned to himself. He slowly stood up in the supportive arms
of the Indian man. He saw that they were both naked. The memory of what
they had done returned. It awed him.
Signs of male sex were on their bodies. A white streak ran down
Johan's chest. He saw that the Indian's dick was wet. A clear streak
flowed down the man's belly to pool in his dark groin hair. 'My release?'
the boy wondered.
Johan's hand was gripped. The Indian warrior led him into the cold
river. Goose bumps formed over his chilled body. They went into deeper
water. The boy wished that he could turn into a mud fish from his dream
so that he could escape.
Water surged to his chest. The river's current wasn't too strong. Johan
began to swim in it. The warrior stayed at his side. All signs of their
love making disappeared. Yet the power of it remained in the boy's heart.
The warrior took hold of Johan's arm. He pulled the youth to the muddy
bank. A breechclout was found there. The man wrapped it around his body
while keeping an eye on the boy. A grin came to his face. The power of
his seed filled this youth's butt. His quaking spirit had been appeased
by their male sex.
Johan's body felt chilled by the air. The warrior's arm wrapped around
him as they walked back to the tipi camp. A lot of emotions played
through the youth. He understood what the man had done with his body. A
pleasurable act of sex. What troubled him most was its power. He had
become a willing participant of it and he felt something for this man. A
bond of some sort.
Tipis came into sight. They entered a big one and returned to their
sleeping mats. An old woman was sitting in one corner with square pieces of
yellow cloth in her cracked hands. She smiled at him. Johan buried his face
into his crossed arms to return to sleep. He hoped for no more nightmares.
Johan's body relaxed. Soft breathing sounds filled the tipi. He became
aware of a strange aching from his butt. It didn't seem like the need to
empty his bowels. He reached a hand back to his rear end. Fingers explored
through the crack of his butt. He discovered the source of his pain.
Johan was puzzled. He knew that his butthole pained him for some
reason. Something clear oozed to his fingers from it. He was relieved
when he saw that it wasn't blood. Tiny hairs raised on the back of his
neck. He noticed that the warrior had been watching him.
A deep embarrassment filled Johan. He had been caught with his hand in
his butt. The boy feigned scratching his cheeks to an itch. Dark eyes
from the Indian man didn't seem fooled.
Snarling Bear grinned. He knew what ailed the white boy. His strong
seed filled that pale butt and it would gift the youth with maturity so
that his clear releases would thicken like a man's. The pain was a small
price to pay.
Snarling Bear recalled many fond memories of empowering the youths of
his tribe with his Growing-up rite. A boy gladly endured getting his butt
penetrated to gain the warrior's strength. It was Snarling Bear's duty to
attend the boys. A responsibility that he greatly enjoyed.
The white youth had settled down to sleep. Snarling Bear felt relaxed
and allowed his body to settle for sleep himself. He listened to the
familiar sounds of the tipi: soft breathing, the crackling of wood in
the fire pit, a woman's handling of soft hide. The warrior closed his
eyes in light sleep.
Full morning came. Everyone in camp knew that the old chief liked to
sleep late. Yellow Deerskin saw her husband stirring so she dropped more
wood into the fire pit and fetched him his moccasins. The young woman in
the man's arms instantly came awake. Events from yesterday filled her head.
Dew-on-the-petals searched for her brother. She found him sleeping on
his mat next to the boys. She had feared that Snarling Bear might not be
there. His presence comforted her. She was glad to have connections with
her family again.
A hand came to Johan's shoulder to awaken him. He was slow to respond.
When his eyes opened, he saw himself in a strange place. The room had a
hole in its ceiling. Objects of wood and leather were hung on the rounded
walls. He could smell smoke.
A brown-faced boy smiled when Johan slowly rose from his sleeping mat.
There were other Indian people watching him. He suddenly remembered
everything and knew where he was.
The pale boy noticed his nakedness. He looked around for something to
cover himself up with. Nothing. The Indian boy next to him was also
naked. An ugly wound covered his butt.
Snarling Bear sat over his mat. His arms reached for the warmth of the
fire. The bright face of his sister filled the warrior's heart with much
joy.
Song Bird squirmed over his sleeping mat. He wanted to rise up but
sharp pains prevented him. A cry escaped his lips. He felt weak like a
girl because of it.
Snarling Bear came to Song Bird's side. He reached into his sacred
bundle for a folded leaf containing his healing herbs. With some spit, he
made a paste of it which he applied to the boy's wounds. A word of Power
was softly spoken.
Song Bird felt a coolness pushing his pain away. He was glad for the
warrior's aid and again he wondered about the Spear Bearing warrior. 'Was
he a shaman?'
Yellow Deerskin knelt at her son's side. Song Bird smiled softly at
her concern. Snarling Bear covered the boy's wounds with his hand. She
was grateful that the warrior was helping to ease her son's pain. Since
words couldn't flow between them, the old woman simply nodded to the man
in appreciation for what he had done.
The white boy drew Yellow Deerskin's attention. She turned to her
chief's newly adopted son and offered the boy what was in her hands.
Yellow Hair gladly accepted the breechclout.
Johan stood up. His hands held a long thong and two flaps of soft
yellow deerskin. A smile came to his face. 'This was an Indian boy's
garment!' he realized. The old woman helped him with it. She brought the
thong around his waist and tied it. An old man from across the tipi
smiled at him. The boy noticed that everyone was watching so he quickly
folded the cloths over his thong belt to cover his naked body.
The old man rose from his sleeping mat. He pulled an elk skin robe
around himself for warmth and approached. Johan saw smiles on everyone's
faces. The man's strong arms reached for his shoulders and held them. The
boy saw something curious in the man's eyes; a kind of seeking.
Johan knew that this old man was the leader of the Indians. He also
knew that this tipi was his new home. 'Was this his new father?' the boy
wondered. It was a strange thought but a thing that he could come to
accept. He looked into the old man's eyes and smiled.
Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others brought the pale youth into his
arms. His heavy robe covered them both. It was a good hug of warmth and
of acceptance. The old man had seen into his new son's heart. Yellow Hair
had clear sky eyes that could hide nothing from him.
Johan slowly held the old man's body to his. He felt his back held
tightly in the Indian's arms. Their chests touched in warmth. It was a
different embrace than that of the naked warrior's in the woods. Johan
took comfort from this man's hold.
Strange words were spoken. Johan heard them filled with deep emotion
from the old man. Words without meaning for his head but his heart
understood them. A flood gate opened in the boy's soul. Much pain swept
out of the boy. He buried his face in the man's chest and cried.
The Indian chief was startled by the white boy's reaction. Yellow Hair
was sobbing like a girl. The old man had seen his male loins and knew him
to be a boy. He frowned. It wasn't good for a chief's son to show
weakness in front of others.
The old man whispered words to calm Yellow Hair. He gave the boy a
sound pat to his butt. After a long moment, the white youth peered up at
him. Tears swam in his sky eyes but his body no longer quaked. The chief
nodded his approval.
Song Bird turned his eyes away in shame. He wanted to be happy for his
father and his new brother. Watching their embrace had made him think bad
things. He felt betrayed.
His father's love would now be divided amongst two sons; both boys
not of his loins but adopted. Song Bird felt less of a son because of
it. Anger rose in his breast.
He had already endured much. His body was injured and so was his
heart. Big Horn had stolen Willow Bird's love from him. His father
forbade any Mahyee-na acts between them even if they had been still
together. And now, he took a new son into his tipi.
Tears threatened to shame Song Bird. He willed them to go away while
glancing around for anyone watching him. The dark eyes from Snarling Bear
held his gaze. The boy couldn't pull himself away. Power lept between
them. Instead of being frightened, he felt some understanding come to him
from that warrior. It was like healing balm to his tortured spirit.
Song Bird felt sleepy. His wounds no longer pained him; a cold touch
was felt over his rear end like the river's hand. It was the Spear
Bearing warrior's healing paste at work. The boy suspected that its power
went deeper than ending pain though.
Song Bird closed his eyes. The dark shadows within him fell away to the
dirt floor. No more worries. His body felt weary so the boy dropped his
heavy head over his crossed arms and surrendered himself to deep sleep.
The morning's events went unnoticed by Song Bird. Yellow Deerskin was
glad to see her son sleeping. It allowed his body to heal without the
threat of opening his wounds if he had been active as boys usually were.
After breakfast, Snarling Bear walked with his little sister in the
camp. It was a good thing to see smiling faces for him from these
People. He would return their good will to the Spear Bearing Tribe.
Song Bird awakened in the late afternoon. He felt rested and with
little pain from his wounds. Guests were visiting with his father.
Yellow Hair sat alone in a corner of the tipi. Song Bird carefully rose
from his mat to join him.
The sky blue eyes of the white youth peered at Song Bird. He saw that
the Indian boy wasn't wearing his breechclout; 'to air out his wounds or
because he remained in the tipi?' Johan wasn't sure. He was glad to have
some covering for himself.
The Indian boy sat close. His dark eyes examined every part of Johan's
body. It tickled when the wild youth pulled on the fine hairs of his arm.
A thrilling sensation.
Meaningless words sprang from the Indian boy. He pointed at himself
and uttered, "akoowa-washing-guh." Johan took it as the boy's name. He
repeated the three strange words until the Indian boy was satisfied. New
words were given to Johan.
"Zee-pa-hee," uttered the Indian boy while pointing at Johan. The
white youth returned the words that he took to be his name in Indian
language. He spoke "Johan" in German while pointing back at himself. The
Indian boy shook his head and uttered "Zee-pa-hee" again.
Johan sighed. It seemed that Akoowa-washing-guh wouldn't accept
calling him by his birth name. Zee-pa-hee was his new name to bear. He
realized that all of his words would be useless since none of the Indians
spoke German.
'What did Zee-pa-hee mean?' Johan wondered. He asked the Indian boy
through gesturing.
Song Bird pulled on the white boy's hair and pointed at the color of
his breechclout. A puzzled expression was given in him reply. Song Bird
tried another approach.
He gestured with his fist the rising and setting of the sun. While
pointing at the color of the white boy's breechclout, he pulled on the
boy's hair again. A quick nod rewarded him.
Johan smiled. 'His name meant Sun Hair or something like that,' he
surmised. The Indian boy gestured at the animal cloths that he wore for
their color. Johan nodded. His Indian name was 'Yellow Hair.'
Understanding what Akoowa-washing-guh meant was more difficult for
Johan. The Indian boy sang and flapped his arms. He pointed at high
places in the tipi and resumed the flapping. Eventually, Johan put the
clues together. The Indian boy's name was 'Song Bird.'
Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others looked past his guests sitting
around the fire to see what his two sons were doing. Song Bird spoke words
to the white youth which he repeated. A smile came to the old man's face.
He was glad that Yellow Hair was an eager learner. It was also good that
Song Bird displayed no ill feelings towards his newly adopted brother.
The afternoon turned to evening. Snarling Bear thanked the chief for his
hospitality and revealed his intent to be leaving for his tribe in the
morning. That saddened Dew-on-the-petals. The warrior assured his little
sister that he would return in a few moons with their mother for a visit.
Night came. The shaman came to look at Song Bird. He was amazed by the
progression of the boy's healing. A secret smile filled Snarling Bear's
face. His paste had closed the wounds and it was the power of his
personal medicine that had kept the bear's spirit from returning. The
white youth had his butt filled with the man's strong seed. Those two
deeds had given Snarling Bear much satisfaction.
The two brothers slept side by side when the fire burned low. Chief
He-who-walks-beyond-all-others held his younger wife to him under the elk
skin. Yellow Deerskin slept alone. Snarling Bear found it difficult to
sleep. He had a long journey to face in the morning.
Big Horn and Willow Bird were sleeping in different tipis of the
Moss-bowl Tribe that night. Each with a warrior who glady embraced their
Mahyee-na spirits of male pleasuring and release. In the morning, the
lovers returned to each other and described the exciting sex they had had
when parted.
(This account of Big Horn's and Willow Bird's lusty visit with the Moss-bowl
Tribe warriors can be read in the upcoming book, 'Brave Willow Bird.' A
short description follows at the end of this story.)
A firm hand on Yellow Hair's shoulder awakened him from deep sleep.
It's the Indian boy who disturbed him. The other Indians rose from their
sleeping mats with yawns and the stretching of their limbs. An old squaw
built up a fire in the middle of the tipi. Johan eagerly reached out for
its warmth.
Song Bird carefully rose up. He was pleased that the wounds on his
butt were giving him little pain. A restlessness filled him. He donned
his breechclout and took Yellow Hair in hand when stepping out of the
tipi. A cautious word was given him by his mother about the white youth.
Yellow Deerskin was concerned that Yellow Hair might try running away.
Song Bird wasn't surprised to see that the rest of the camp was up and
about. It was late morning. The white boy in his hand gazed at all the
tall tipis. 'Is he looking for a way to escape?' wondered Song Bird.
Four Indian boys ran into them. Their dark eyes filled with wonder
about Song Bird's new brother. They surrounded Yellow Hair and touched
his pale skin. A quick examination revealed how different a white boy
was from a brown one.
An Indian boy giggled when he tried peeking through the side of Yellow
Hair's breechclout. A bolder youth lifted the flaps so that everyone
could see the boy's pale butt and the strange cut to his penis.
Johan endured the boys' eyes on his nakedness. He rested his eyes on
the nude body of a boy of eight. This small Indian youth had a flat butt
and no Christian cut to the thick skin around his brown pole.
Song Bird drew the boys' attention back to him when he lifted his rear
flap. The bear's claw wounds were seen on his lower back and butt. One
boy made a game. He put his hands to his ears to enlarge them and he made
low growling noises. All the Indian boys turned into bears to surround
Song Bird.
Johan picked up a stick. He stood in front of Song Bird and poked his
'spear' at the attacking bears. Each Indian boy fell to the ground when
struck. That made Song Bird laugh.
"Let's go swimming!" shouted Day Rabbit.
The four boys ran for the river. When Yellow Hair followed, Song Bird
chased after them. He didn't want his new brother to get out of sight.
Breechclouts were shed on the bank. Four naked Indian boys dove into
the muddy river and began a splashing game. They gestured for the white
boy to join them. Yellow Hair stood on the bank to wait for Song Bird.
Song Bird was out of breath when he reached the river. His butt wounds
ached. He saw Yellow Hair point out at the boys swimming in the water
with a grin. Song Bird pointed at himself and shook his head. He gestured
for Yellow Hair to go out and play with them.
Johan untied the thong belt around his waist. His two flaps dropped to
the dirt over the other breechclouts. He turned to Song Bird for a moment
of longing before diving into the river. He was unpleasantly surprised by
its cold hold of his body. An Indian boy put his hand on Johan's shoulder
and shouted. All the boys darted away from him with bright smiles.
Song Bird watched the boys' game of tag with interest. Yellow Hair
knew the rules of this common water game and he played it well. Often,
he was the target from the other boys. They often felt over the white
youth's body with their curious hands under the guise of a tag.
Song Bird stepped into the shallow part of the river. He hoped that
its cold spirit around his legs would make the pain from his butt wounds
go away. He kept his breechclout on. The other boys took it as a sign
that he wasn't able to join them.
The game of water tag ended. Yellow Hair was surrounded by the four
Indian boys who reached out to his pale body with their exploring hands.
Day Rabbit seemed amazed by the fine hairs on his arms, legs and chest.
The youth pulled on them with wide eyes. Bent Spear, a boy of eleven,
roamed his hand down the front of the white boy. When he reached the
boy's cut penis, he pulled on it to make it grow.
Johan felt the hand around his dick and pushed it away. He had endured
the Indian boys their exploration of his body with their dark eyes and
curious hands but touching that part of his nakedness was too much.
Someone goosed his butt.
Anger flared in the German boy. He stalked out of the circle of Indian
boys and ran towards shore. Song Bird greeted him there.
Song Bird knew that something had upset Yellow Hair. He saw how the
white boy's long pole pointed out from his body. A breechclout was
quickly brought around his waist to hide it. Song Bird grinned. He lifted
his front flap to reveal his own erection. It had grown hard from
watching the boys examining his naked brother.
The boys jeered at Yellow Hair to rejoin them in the water. Their loud
pleas were ignored. Song Bird took his brother in hand and led him away
from the river. The passed several tipis before entering the woods.
Song Bird followed a path that took them deeper through the trees. The
two of them bore erections and he wanted to see if the white boy knew how
to use them. Some guilt weighed on him when seeing Willow Bird's ring
around his finger. The promise he had made would still be kept.
A hidden place between two bushes attracted Song Bird. He stepped into
them and turned to Yellow Hair. The white boy seemed anxious. Song Bird
held his brother's slim shoulders to calm him. It only made Yellow Hair
shake more.
Conflicting feelings arose in Johan. He had seen the Indian boy's
erection at the river bank and knew that something here was going to happen
concerning them. The warrior's lusty act came to mind. Johan wondered if
this boy was wanting to perform that same thing with his body.
Song Bird's hands fell down along his brother's hairy arms. He
squeezed the boy's palms. Only a dull look came from his sky blue eyes.
Song Bird reached for the boy's hips. His fingers found the knot in
Yellow Hair's thong belt. Yet he kept from pulling it open.
Johan recovered from his deep thoughts. He had been reliving that
warrior's naked embrace with him from yesterday morning. A frightening
act but one that had also yielded him pleasure. An Indian boy of his age
stood before him with a similar intent to touch bodies. 'Did he want to
do it with him?'
Song Bird kept his hold of the boy's hips. He stepped closer until
their bellies whispered together. The warmth from his brother's body
felt good next to his and it brought a deeper temptation to what he
wanted to perform.
Johan swallowed nervously in his throat. He wanted to reach out for
the Indian boy but his arms felt like lead. A heaviness was also felt in
his stomach. His erection ached for him to act. He questioned his body's
attraction to a boy when he knew that he should only be feeling a dick's
excitement for a girl. The conflicting emotions in his head were
difficult to handle.
Song Bird saw the reluctance in his brother's face. He knew to go
slowly. Willow Bird's initiation for him had spanned two summers. Only
when they were alone in the river and far from camp did their naked
bodies touch for a first love making. It would be so for his new brother.
The sound of a stick knocking against a tree brought fear to Song
Bird. His hands fell away from Yellow Hair's body. When he turned to
investigate, he found Iron Bow standing nearby. The dark eyes of the
warrior bore down on the white youth.
Song Bird was grimly reminded of that time Iron Bow had discovered
himself with Willow Bird sitting naked and 'wet' on a horse. The warrior
had been amused to catch the two boys making love. He promised to keep what
he had seen a secret. His eyes held no amusement this day. Only hatred.
Iron Bow faced the chief's sons. One was Indian brown and the other
white. His hands shook with great anger. Not because of the act he
suspected the boys were about to perform; it was a common enough thing
that he had done in his own youth. What had upset the warrior was that a
'white skin' had become a part of their tribe. He would explain this
wrong to Song Bird.
"Why did your father take in a murdering white skin!" shouted Iron
Bow. "More often these days, the white hunters are slaughtering those of
us that they find! I had lost two braves to an ambush of their powerful
thunder sticks against our mere tomahawks. Even our enemies don't side
with their kind."
Song Bird was struck by the warrior's loud words. Yet he responded
with words of his own. "This boy is no longer white!" he explained. "My
two mothers had ritually bathed him while our chief spoke the adoption
words. Not all whites are bad and murderous. Yellow Hair is now a human
being of our tribe!"
Iron Bow shrugged off the boy's explanation. He knew that while Yellow
Hair was a chief's son, he wouldn't dare lay a hand on the white boy. The
hatred inside him still burned for him and all the White People. Song
Bird didn't see the danger that this warrior knew would come to pass for
all them.
The boys' erections brought a grim reminder to Iron Bow. A
rememberance of a promise that Willow Bird had made to him to keep what
his eyes had seen of their love making a secret. He would speak of it to
shame a chief's son.
"Where are those three fat rabbits your 'lover' has promised me, Song
Bird? Does he take lightly his vows and promises?"
When only silence came in answer to Iron Bow's accusations, the warrior
decided to be harsher still. "Ah, he's too busy satisfying that Mahyee-na
brave Big Horn... as you are a busy bee with this white boy in the
bushes. Were you about to offer him your butt before I came upon you?"
Song Bird was terribly shamed. Something snapped in the boy and he
tore into Iron Bow for his hurtful words. The warrior easily defended
himself. He tossed the boy hard to the ground, pleased by the sharp cry
of pain it had caused the youth.
Song Bird tried keeping his tears from falling. The claw wounds over
his butt felt like that they had split open from the throbbing pain. He
was shamed enough by the warrior's words to offer the man a greater
satisfaction in seeing his weakness. He became alarmed when seeing Yellow
Hair attack.
Johan didn't understand the warrior's anger towards Song Bird but he
went into action to defend him when seeing the harm the brute had done
to his Indian companion. His head wasn't clouded with anger. He used a
fighting trick that his father had taught him when facing a stronger
opponant. Johan feinted with his fist to the man's head while actually
landing a hard blow to the man's exposed stomach.
Iron Bow doubled over with pain. Johan grinned. He knew that the
warrior would be on guard against further tricks so the boy thought of
running. The injured Indian youth at his feet kept him from his planned
escape. He stood his ground to guard his friend knowing well that he
would be suffering injury himself.
The blows came. Johan steeled himself and made no attempts to defend
himself. He only frowned at the 'mighty warrior,' showing the man how
unmatched they were for battle.
Iron Bow stopped himself. His great anger turned to curiosity for what
was taking place. No answering blows? He took hold of the boy's shoulders
and peered into the youth's freckled face. He never expected a white skin
to defend one of his People. Song Bird moaned on the ground at his feet.
Shame came to the warrior. He dropped his spear and knelt at Song Bird's
side. Blood had broken through the bear's claw wounds so Iron Bow gathered
up some moss to press against the boy's rear end. His other hand held the
boy to his breast. Song Bird began to sob against him. It revealed the
great pain that the youth had been trying to keep inside himself.
"My heart is heavy for what I have done," whispered Iron Bow. "I was
remembering the lives of my two braves that were taken by those murderous
Whites! Why was my life spared? It's like a wound that festers in my
spirit so try to understand why I was taken to violence by mere boys."
Song Bird ended his sobs. Tears still flowed but he lifted his head to
peer into the warrior's eyes with his own eyes of hate. Iron Bow didn't
flinch.
The youth was reminded of one of his father's teachings. 'Men are best
led from careful reasoning than raw emotion.' He thought over the
warrior's explanation and it made sense to him. He dropped his eyes to
the ground and saw the man's fallen spear. Dead over the ground like
those two braves.
Song Bird took hold of it. Words formed in his head that he knew would
make his father proud of him. The boy slowly stood up to face Iron Bow.
"You must not let your spear fall," said Song Bird. "The tribe needs
you to guard us against our enemies. He is not one of them," while
pointing at Yellow Hair.
"I don't pretend to know the Mind of our Father, but He must have
guarded your life on that terrible day for the task of your defending us
to what may yet come. Take back your spear, Iron Bow. Guard your anger.
Its use is best taken against our enemies."
Iron Bow stood up tall. He was struck by the boy's wisdom and both his
hands held tightly to the spear's wooden shaft to hide the emotions that
were stirred in him.
Johan was awe struck. He had watched the unfolding scene without
understanding much of it. A little Indian boy had turned the warrior's
anger to one of stern obedience to him. 'Perhaps Song Bird was a chief's
son,' Johan reasoned.
Iron Bow watched the two youths walk away. Yellow Hair held his
limping brother while sneaking glances back at the warrior. They slowly
disappeared from sight. Iron Bow resumed his watch in the forest.
Song Bird held a clump of moss against his bleeding wounds. He didn't
need for Yellow Hair to be holding him as they walked but he enjoyed the
hairy touch of the boy's warm body against him. They slowly made their
way to camp.
The chief's tipi came into sight. A packed horse was tied up outside.
Song Bird entered to see Snarling Bear in an embrace with Dew-on-the-petals,
his sister. A long one. The young woman had tears of sorrow on her face
when they finally parted.
Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others greeted his sons. He was
concerned by Song Bird's limp. The boy laid down over his sleeping mat on
his belly. He held moss against his rear end in shame.
Snarling Bear knelt at the boy's side. He removed the rear flap and
frowned at what he saw. Blood welled up from some of the wounds. He
removed a folded skin of healing herbs from his sacred bundle and
gestured for water to be brought to him.
Yellow Deerskin dropped a clay pot at the warrior's side. Snarling
Bear mixed a handful of water from it with the herbs in a square piece of
deerskin. This he brought over Song Bird's bleeding butt. He pressed down
hard on it.
Song Bird welcomed the icy spirit of the medicine into his wounds. The
pain went away. Yellow Hair was close at his side, frowning. It touched
Song Bird's heart to see his new brother's concern for him.
Snarling Bear took hold of the white boy's arm. He pulled it over Song
Bird's body until placing the boy's hand over his healing cloth. He
gestured for Yellow Hair to press down hard.
Johan nodded his head. He folded his legs under himself and held the
medicine cloth over Song Bird's butt. It excited him to be touching this
part of the Indian boy. He was glad to help.
Snarling Bear faced the Muddy River Chief. He gave the old man a final
gesture of peace before leaving the tipi. Everyone went outside with him.
It was a long and noisy farewell.
Johan kept his hold of the medicine cloth. He brushed some moss from
Song Bird's uninjured left butt cheek. The touch of the boy's rear
nakedness was getting him excited. He was glad that his breechclout hid it.
Song Bird rested his head over his crossed arms. It looked to Johan
that he was going to sleep. He took this opportunity to explore the
Indian boy's body.
The bear's claws had cut into Song Bird's lower back and right butt
cheek. The moss he had brushed away left a dirt stain over the boy's
other cheek. Johan dipped his fingers into the clay pot and brought up
some water to clean it.
Johan pressed his wet fingers into the butt's moss stain. He wiped it
away with the edge of his hand. The clean skin was dried with his arm.
Song Bird didn't stir.
Everyone was outside with the departing warrior. Johan became bold. He
continued to rub his fingers over the warm skin of Song Bird's butt. He
liked its brown color; a kind of proof that this was a wild boy who
welcomed the summer sun over his nakedness.
Johan leaned closer. He carefully pulled the cheeks apart to peek at
the Indian boy's most naked part; his brown asshole. A musky scent came
from it. He was both attracted and disgusted by the strong odor.
A strange thought struck Johan. He wanted to rub over it. His dick
throbbed within the soft flap of his breechclout from his naughty
thoughts. 'Why did a boy's hole attract him?' Johan wondered. An alarming
thought struck him.
His butthole had hurt him yesterday morning. It had felt like
something had stuck into him there. When he had searched for blood, only
a clear oozing had come to his fingers. The warrior's sex stained body
came to mind...
Johan recalled fainting after the warrior's lusty act. His next memory
was of cold water splashing into his face at the river. There was a spell
of time that the boy couldn't recall. In the tipi, the warrior had
watched him examining his butt with a strange grin. Had that man done
something to his butthole?
Song Bird felt very relaxed under his brother's hands. He turned his
head back at the white boy to try reading his face. He wanted to see if
Yellow Hair enjoyed feeling over his rear end. It was an exciting part of
his body that he liked touched.
Willow Bird had once stuck into it. A painful experience for Song
Bird. He had seen the size of Yellow Hair's pink dick and knew that it
was a better match to the size of his butthole. 'Would he let that boy
stick in?'
Johan caught the curious glances from Song Bird. The boy's dark eyes
twinkled at him, causing him some embarrassment. Johan rested his hand
over the left butt cheek. Its sensual warmth was nice to hold.
The Indian boy nodded his head. He seemed grateful for Johan's hold of
his body; both the healing and the lustful touch. A secret understanding
came between them. The bond grew stronger between the two boys.
The old man and his two wives returned inside the large tipi. They
checked to see that the white youth had a proper hold of Song Bird's
wounds with the medicine cloth. An old woman gave Yellow Hair her smile
of approval.
Things settled down. The two women set about to cleaning up their
tipi. Chief He-who-walks-beyond-all-others left to visit with the shaman.
Yellow Hair became weary after a while. He rested his head over his
crossed arms while holding Song Bird's wounded butt.
Johan could smell the healing herbs. Its pleasant odor was putting
him to sleep. He didn't know how long he had to remain with Song Bird.
Though his eyes closed, he prevented himself from falling to sleep. He
listened to the sounds in the tipi.
Yellow Deerskin pointed out something to Dew-on-the-petals which made
both of them laugh. Like Willow Bird before him, when he had been put to
the task of holding a medicine cloth over Song Bird's wounded butt, the
white youth was also falling asleep. 'Snarling Bear's medicine must be
strong,' thought Yellow Deerskin. 'Both boys were falling under its spell!'
Song Bird had already surrendered himself to sleep. He knew better
than to battle against the medicine's strong power. Johan was a fighter
though. He didn't want unknown things to happen to him again when asleep.
The warrior's stink was around and in him. He was glad that the man had
gone away.
A heaviness came to Johan. It felt like a giant foot was pressing
down on his back. His arms ached from carrying the weight of his head.
Sleep finally captured the boy.
The sun dipped behind a cloud. Johan heard his named called. He tried
ignoring it since the lusty act in his hand was nearly done. The corn
stalks hid it. His penis was always aching him to come out so he found
places where he could perform that necessary act alone.
A brown skinned boy stood at Johan's side. He had dark, wicked looking
eyes that watched Johan's penis pulling. An erection of his own was
brought out from his breechclout. It was pleasured in hand. Both boys
smiled at their shared male rite. Their hearts joined. It was sad that
their flesh was mismatched for a similar joining.
An Indian warrior showed Johan the way. He brought their bodies
together in a close embrace. Not belly to belly like in the woods but
with the man's long penis slipping into the boy's butthole. It was a
tight fit. Johan felt their powerful male connection. The man's thick
seed was put in him. He turned to Song Bird with the knowledge of how
they could join.
A strong grip to Johan's shoulder awakened him. It was dark. He didn't
know where he was. His hands pulled from the warm soft pillow at his
knees. 'Why did his arms ache?'
A claw bowl was dropped into Johan's hands. He looked into the face
of an Indian man. The fire crackled behind him. Johan remembered where
he was. With a nod of his head, he thanked the man who was his new
father. His belly rumbled with hunger.
The meat in his bowl was raw but seasoned. Johan greedily ate it all
up. From a clay pot at his side he finished his meal with a drink of
water. Song Bird awakened and he was also given a bowl of meat.
Johan watched the Indian boy. A deep fondness was in him like that for
a brother. At least that's what Johan thought it was since he never had
any sibblings. He was his parent's only child. And now he was an orphan.
No. He had Indian parents now. They seemed nice and smiled often at
him. Yet the pain from losing his real parents ached inside Johan. He
felt that something could have been done to save them from the fire.
Tears swelled in his eyes. The boy returned to his sleeping mat and
buried his face in his arms to feign sleeping. He tried keeping his sobs
from being heard. It was a long lonely battle.
A small cry awakened Johan. The central fire had burned down to embers.
He slowly turned his head to take a look around. No movement. A faint
panting turned Johan's head towards the Indian boy sleeping at his side.
'Was Song Bird in pain?' wondered Johan. His eyes adjusted to the
darkness. He could see some movement from the Indian boy. A slow humping
motion from his butt.
Song Bird was laying over his sleeping mat on his belly. His hands
clutched its edges and surged. Another faint cry. Johan grinned. He knew
what the Indian boy was doing. It was something he had often done in bed
to thrill his hard penis.
Johan became excited by the Indian boy's lusty act. He knew that
without being able to come out, the youth could rub against his sleeping
mat for countless thrills. That's what he had done with his erection
until he could wet his bed. An accomplishment that had drawn his mother's
concern though.
Johan had ended his nightly bed pleasure by pulling over his long dick
out-of-doors. That kept his mother from yelling at him. Watching the
Indian boy rubbing over his sleeping mat proved that he was too young to
come out. At least, that's what Johan figured.
Song Bird held breaths. He embraced his companion's naked warmth with
his urgent need to squirt out. 'It would be soon.' Song Bird felt some
guilt though. It wasn't Willow Bird who was in his arms...
Half in sleep, Song Bird directed his lustful dreaming. The boy's
face in his arms changed from white to brown then back to white. Willow
Bird's dark eyes turned sky blue. Strange brown dots filled the cheeks
of his white face. A smiling expression. The boy in his surging arms
became the same height.
An outcry! Johan watched the Indian boy slow his body and take in
breaths. None of the other Indians in the tipi seemed to have noticed
what the boy had done. The old man snored.
Johan tried returning to sleep. He had become excited by the Indian
boy's act and he was wanting to be at it himself. His dick, though,
could come out. He didn't want to get caught with an embarrassing wet
stain on his mat in the morning.
A scuffling noise drew Johan's attention. Song Bird tied on his
breechclout and slowly rose from his sleeping mat. He made his way
outside the tipi. That gave Johan the chance to check out the boy's mat.
Johan reached out his hand to it. There was still a body's warmth
along the soft hide. He felt down its middle. A wetness touched upon his
fingers. That surprised Johan greatly. He didn't think the Indian boy
would risk staining his bed mat.
Johan crawled along the ground to investigate. He found the wet spot
and brought his nose to it. There was a familiar odor, proving that Song
Bird had made his dick come out. A tremendous thrill went through Johan.
He wished that he could lay over the Indian boy's mat to add his own
wetting to it.
A bold plan came to Johan. He fetched his own bed mat and traded its
place with Song Bird's. He reasoned that the Indian boy wouldn't notice
the difference in the dark. After pulling his front flap from the thong
belt, Johan laid down over the borrowed sleeping mat. He felt the sticky
wet pool of its middle against his hard dick.
Song Bird returned. Johan remained very still while the Indian boy
laid himself down over the ground, unknowing that it wasn't his own
sleeping mat that he had returned to. A smile came to Johan's face. It
seemed that his plan had worked.
Johan waited for the Indian boy to sleep before acting. It would
embarrass him much to get caught. When Song Bird made soft breathing
noises, he clutched the edges of his borrowed mat and began his rubbing
motion against it. The wet spot against his erection made for an extra
thrilling ride.
The exciting scene from that day returned to Johan. He imagined that
the Indian boy had been able to continue his plans for them without
interruption from that angry warrior. They both had hard dicks and he knew
that Song Bird had brought them to the hiding place in the woods to use
them. He imagined the lusty game that could have unfolded.
Johan welcomed the Indian boy's advances. Breechclouts dropped down at
their feet. Naked, their bellies came together to press their hard poles
together; a brown length against his pink one. Their hands reached around
the other to grip warm soft butts. A lusty motion began. Johan held the
brown boy close to him like that of a twin brother. He knew that what
they were doing was a good thing.
Johan surged against the sleeping mat. He felt the slippery release from
Song Bird against his long dick and balls. It provided him with an enhanced
imagining. Deep into their embrace, the Indian boy came out. Johan rushed
his loins to flow with his companion's. He made savage thrusts.
A hand coming to Johan's backside startled him. It wasn't an imagined
thing. He was too close to release to care though. With a few more stabs,
Johan completed his lusty rite. Heavy spurts came out of his dick with
his low moan.
A long moment of uneasy silence passed. Johan turned his head at Song
Bird. He felt his butt squeezed. The darkness hid what smile may be
coming to him from the Indian boy. For that, Johan was glad.
The hand pulled away. Johan laid his weary head down over his arm. A
relaxing sensation filled his heated body. That always happened after a
good coming out. His sticky release oozed against his belly. It was
joining with the Indian boy's. Johan hoped that by morning, only a dried
stain would remain. For now, he surrendered to the call of sleep.
Morning came. Johan was awakened by the sound of wood being dropped
into the fire pit. A foggy white light could be seen through the tipi
smoke hole. Rain fell against the walls of the tipi. He felt chilled
without a blanket.
Song Bird was still fast asleep. Johan saw that the medicine cloth had
fallen to his side during the night. He reached out and brought it back
over the Indian boy's wounds before returning to sleep.
Yellow Deerskin smiled. She was glad that the white boy's adjustment
to their family seemed to be coming along. The two boys were already good
friends. Song Bird worried her though. His wounds had reopened from
yesterday and would require him to remain in the tipi for them to close.
She was glad for the falling rain. It would ensure that Song Bird would
keep inside.
Moans came from her husband. She turned to where he was laying with
his younger wife under the bear skin. It shook from the motion of love
making. The act was joyous for her husband but no baby would come to
Dew-on-the-petals. It had been the same with her.
Yellow Deerskin sighed. She was glad that the chief had two sons in
his tipi. When they grew up into men it would be their duty to provide
for their father's tipi. Big Horn was already supporting them with meat.
She wondered why the chief's nephew hadn't returned from his hunt with
Willow Bird.
The tipi warmed from the growing fire. Yellow Deerskin attended her
morning tasks while the others slowly awakened. Song Bird was content to
remain over his sleeping mat. His wounds ached. Yellow Hair held the
medicine cloth over his rear end but without much effect. 'Perhaps that
warrior needed to be close for his power of healing to flow into my
wounds,' thought Song Bird.
Yellow Deerskin came to the two boys. A drink of water from her clay
pot was offered them. The rain made for a gloomy morning. She saw it
reflected in both their faces.
"Why not play a word game with Yellow Hair?" she asked of her son.
"He'll learn our language faster that way."
Song Bird nodded his head. He pointed at the white boy and uttered,
"Zee-pa-hee". When pointing at himself, he gestured for his own name to
be spoken.
Johan shook his head. He had forgotten the Indian words to Song Bird's
name. Yet by flapping his arms and whistling, he demonstrated that he
remembered what the name meant.
"Akoowa-washing-guh," answered Song Bird while pointing at himself. He
had Yellow Hair repeat the words and he hoped that they wouldn't be
forgotten again.
Objects in the tipi were pointed out and given Indian names. Yellow
Hair repeated them. Their game lasted the morning. Yellow Deerskin
prepared the afternoon meal.
The rain storm grew in intensity. Strong winds came. It threatened to
blow their tipi over. Shouts erupted in camp. The men tied lines around
the flapping tipi skins and anchored their poles into the muddy earth
with large stones. It made for an exciting afternoon for the two boys who
found it difficult to continue their learning game.
Word came to the chief that a tipi had blown over. The others had been
secured against the wind and were expected to hold. By night's fall, the
fierce storm had blown itself out. Rain still fell.
The fire pit hissed during the night. Though the smoke hole was
guarded by a rain flap, its soggy skin dripped water down. The boys felt
chilled. Johan moved his sleeping mat onto Song Bird's and they huddled
together to keep warm.
Morning finally came. Yellow Deerskin frowned at the falling rain and
the cold that it had brought. She placed wood in the fire pit. The
embers had long since drowned and would need to be restarted.
It amused her to see the two sleeping boys clutching each other for
warmth. There was no blanket to offer them. Her husband had traded away
all his elk and buffalo skins to the Spear Bearing warrior. At least
their tipi had held up in the winds.
The flames managed to rise from the soggy fire pit. Warmth filled the
tipi after a while. No one wanted to get up because of the rain. The wind
howled outside. Yellow Deerskin was worried that its angry spirit may try
again to uproot the tipis in camp.
Morning turned into a quiet afternoon. The winds had calmed. Song Bird
continued teaching his brother new Indian words. The rain kept them
inside the whole day.
A council was held that night in the chief's tipi. The two days of
rain had swollen the muddy river. It threatened to flow past its bank.
The warriors decided to move those tipis closest to the river to higher
ground. Guards were posted to keep an eye on the rising water.
The shaman returned to his tipi and performed a ritual to appease the
rain spirits. His chanting lasted the night. To the credit of his powerful
persuasion, the rain did finally end. The morning brought clear skies.
The tipi camp was in disarray. Skin walls had torn and long tipi poles
had broken during the storms. Everyone in the tribe came together to
repair the damage and to dry out all their wet things.
Song Bird's butt wounds had closed and he was glad to be out and about.
Yellow Hair remained at his side. They walked through the muddy camp and
joined the other boys in fetching wood for the fires. Long sticks were
tied into racks to dry rain soaked skins. Everyone was kept busy.
Grass was needed for the horses. Tending them was Willow Bird's
responsibility but in his absence, Song Bird took to the task of it. He
led Yellow Hair along the swollen river to where the tall grass could be
found. Armfulls of it were cut. Twisted vines were tied around the
bunches for easy carrying.
Johan was dismayed by the dirty work. His body was covered in mud and
the sharp grass had cut into his arms and chest. He looked to the river
for relief. Song Bird was reluctant to join him in for a swim though.
There was a fierce current to the river but Johan felt that staying
close to the shore would keep them from harm. After pulling away his
breechclout, he waded into the cold water. Debris floated past him. The
wild river was an exciting challenge for Johan to face.
Song Bird entered the fast river to warn his brother about the
dangers. He was worried that some unseen log could knock him down. And as
a poor swimmer, he wouldn't be able to rescue his new brother.
Johan turned to Song Bird in dismay. He pointed at the breechclout
that the boy wore and gestured for him to remove it. An erection was
standing against Johan's belly. The raw excitement of the danger had
caused it. He wanted badly for the Indian boy to uncover himself and
embrace their needs.
Song Bird noticed his brother's hard dick. Arms opened to him for
want of an embrace. There was a longing in the white boy's sky eyes. He
walked into deeper water to join him.
Johan reached out for Song Bird's warmth to claim it. How he longed to
hold the Indian boy in his arms! As he was about to feel their body's
closure, Song Bird fell. Something had knocked the boy's legs from under
him. He disappeared under the muddy water.
Johan was in disbelief. The Indian boy had only been an arm's length
away. No outcry from him. He was simply gone! The white boy came out of
his shock. He dove into the spot where Bird Bird had been pulled down. The
river's current roared in his ears. His eyes could find nothing but mud.
Something grabbed at Johan's arm. A slippery warmth that startled
him. He kicked off the bottom to surface for breath. Johan found himself
being swept deeper into the river's wild current. He gulped for air.
When Johan tried swimming, he discovered a heaviness on his right
arm. It was Song Bird clutching him, fighting for breath. Instead of
feeling relieved, Johan panicked from his inability to keep his own head
out of water. He pushed Song Bird away.
The river swept the two boys into an uprooted tree. Johan managed to
pull himself over its trunk. Song Bird tangled in its branches, head
down in the water. The bank rushed by them.
The mighty oak turned and bobbed in the river. Johan often lost his
grip of the tree's wide trunk. He could do nothing for Song Bird. It
looked like the Indian boy had drowned. He felt that he would be next.
A jolt went through Johan's arms. He nearly lost his grip when the
roots of the floating tree had struck against the bank. It slowly turned
in the river. Johan found himself in the shallows when his feet hit
bottom. He pushed away from the tree trunk to freedom.
Song Bird's body was still tangled in the tree's branches. Johan
summoned up his courage and pulled the boy free. He crawled onto shore with
him. The oak drifted back into the current and was soon lost from sight.
There was no sign of life in Song Bird. Johan began to cry. He struck
at the Indian boy in great anger from not being able to save him. The
death of Johan's parents also weighed on him. Great guilt! He had been
unable to save them as well.
A bubbling came from Song Bird's mouth. Johan's strikes to the boy's
back had caused it. All the water came out when he pushed on the boy's
back. A deep urgency came to Johan to do something more. He prayed.
With his eyes lifted upwards to heaven, Johan made his plea unto God.
He begged for His aid now in trade for being forsaken when his parents
had died.
Johan lowered his eyes to the Indian boy. His body was still lifeless,
covered in clay. Like Adam was. A biblical story came to Johan in a flash
of insight. He put his mouth on Song Bird's. And as God had breathed life
into the first man, Johan breathed air into the boy's lungs. He held the
cold body close to him and repeated what God had done.
A small gasp. Tremendous hope filled Johan! He breathed into the
Indian boy's mouth and shouted for him to live!
Song Bird did. He took in a breath and painfully coughed it back out.
His body felt heavy and tingly. A fire pressed against the front of him.
With a few more breaths, his eyes cleared. He saw Yellow Hair holding
him with a happy grin.
Johan cried. He erupted in happy shouts. The boy in his arms was
alive! A moment was taken to thank God for His aid. He looked to the
heavens and forgave Him the loss of his parents. The healing of his own
tortured soul had begun.
The river flowed past them for a long time while Song Bird recovered.
When he managed to stand, Yellow Hair had to help him keep balance. They
slowly made their way back to camp.
They returned to the place where they had tied up the grass bundles.
Johan found his breechclout and tied it around his waist. He noticed that
Song Bird was naked. Only a thin thong remained around his waist. He
pulled away his rear cloth and gave it to the Indian boy to wear.
A weary grin answered Johan's offer. Song Bird folded the flap over
his belt in front. He giggled at seeing how their rear ends were
uncovered. Yellow Hair saw the humor of it and slapped over his butt.
Song Bird joined him. He was rewarded with a sharp pain from his
forgotten wounds.
Song Bird returned to the task at hand. He lifted a grass bundle into
his arms but found that he couldn't hold it. A pained cough came out that
left him fighting for breath. His weakness was very disturbing.
Johan gestured for the Indian boy to sit and rest. He took up a
bundle of grass in each arm and carried them towards the corral. Song
Bird followed him to his dismay.
They made several trips. Johan did all the carrying and Song Bird
directed where the grass bundles should be dropped and untied. There were
more chores here to perform but Song Bird felt very weak. He swallowed
his pride at last and asked his brother to take him back to their tipi.
The People was busy to the task of cleaning up camp. They greeted Song
Bird and his new brother of white skin. The boys finally made their way
to the chief's tipi and entered it. Yellow Deerskin frowned from seeing
that her son had managed to hurt himself again.
"I wish that it had rained for two more days!" she scolded.
Song Bird lowered himself to his sleeping mat. He didn't lay over it
on his belly. It wasn't his butt that had hurt him. He took in raspy
breaths that sounded loud to his ears. His mother noticed.
"What happened?" she asked.
Song Bird looked around. He was relieved to see that his father was
gone. With down casted eyes, he told her what had transpired in the
river. The woman's eyes grew wide when she heard how close to death her
son had come again.
Yellow Hair's rescue was not left out. Song Bird felt awed that life's
breath was put back into him from that white boy. It spoke of a power
that none of the Kalinlepi People had.
Johan saw the old woman's eyes turn to him with awe. He felt
embarrassed by the attention and pointed upwards to explain it. "God had
saved the Indian boy!" he explained. With a closing hand in the sky, he
opened it over Song Bird's heart to show God's power of life. The woman
nodded in understanding.
"We will not speak of this again," said Yellow Deerskin. She turned from
the two boys to hide her concern. There were powerful forces in her son's
life that frightened her. He had twice been saved from death's hand.
Song Bird kept to his mat for the rest of the day. His brother stayed
with him. They practiced more Indian words and nothing was said to their
father about his near drowning. For this, Song Bird was glad.
Johan slept soundly over his sleeping mat. His heart was at peace. No
more guilt weighed on his soul. His dreams were sweet ones that spoke of
the days of happiness ahead for him and the Indian boy. The ghosts from
his past had flown away.
The next morning saw the Kalinlepi camp back to normal. All the rain
and wind damage had been repaired. The only signs that remained from the
great storm was the water soaked earth and the swollen river. The sun
smiled over the tipi camp.
It was on this bright day that Big Horn and Willow Bird returned. The
boys of the tribe greeted the pair with shouts and bright faces. Warriors
nodded their heads with respect to Big Horn for they saw in his hair an
eagle's feather.
They made their way to the chief's tipi. Big Horn was warmly greeted
by his uncle and they had a smoke to celebrate. The full account of their
hunt, the dealing with a Trickster and a trade visit with the Moss-bowl
tribe was given. Willow Bird sat silently. He wondered how Song Bird had
fared in his absence.
Yellow Deerskin was gifted with several crafted bowls by Big Horn. A
few pouches of smoked venison was also put into her care. Willow Bird
excused himself so that he could return to his mother's tipi. He had
gifts to present as well.
A finely decorated clay pot and a deerskin was taken from Big Horn's
horse. Willow Bird proudly carried these things back to his mother's
tipi. The deerskin was from his first kill. He wanted to show himself to
her as a proven hunter.
Disappointment filled Willow Bird when he found the tipi empty. He
dropped what his arms held and went to find her. The shaman came across
his path. Event from the previous day came to mind so he asked the old
man if a private word could be had with him.
They walked along the swollen river to talk. Willow Bird gave the
shaman an account of Big Horn's head pain and how it had driven the newly
feathered warrior to crazed acts. He knew that Big Horn's pride prevented
him from seeking the shaman's aid. He had taken it upon himself, from his
deep love for the man that something should be done to help Big Horn.
The shaman assured Willow Bird that he had acted properly. He
promised to visit with Big Horn and do what he could. A matter was
brought up by the old man concerning Willow Bird's visions. He felt there
was power in the boy's dreams and that a wonderous path was opening to
him for consideration.
Willow Bird was stunned. The old man had offered to teach him to
become a shaman! It was a great honor to bestow on a boy. More would be
discussed in the shaman's tipi that night. A new vision had come unto
Willow Bird during his stay in the Moss-bowl Tribe and he wanted to share
it with the shaman. The old man said that its telling could wait until
that night.
With his thanks, Willow Bird left the shaman so that he could go find
his mother. He ran along the grassy bank of the swollen river with much
joy. It was with startled surprise when he ran into someone of greater
importance. A boy friend.
Song Bird smiled. He was about to open his arms to the one that he loved
but his father's stern words stopped him. Willow Bird too kept himself
from their joyous reunion. Big Horn's warning was ever in his mind.
"How are you?" asked Song Bird. It pained his heart to be standing so
close to his dear friend without a hug of love. Yet his father had
commanded him to end their Mahyee-na sex acts. The reluctance in Willow
Bird's face seemed to prove that he also knew of that restriction.
"I could tell you that all is well with me," explained Willow Bird,
"but that would be a lie. You are my first and best love, Song Bird. To
look upon you is a great joy to my heart! Yet we're prevented from...
embracing it. That brings me a great pain that's going to be hard to
endure."
Song Bird could only nod his head at his friend's strong words. He
also felt that same pain. His face brightened when remembering a joyful
secret to share with Willow Bird. He stood up tall to ask a promise of
his friend first.
"I have something to tell you that will bring us some joy," explained
Song Bird. "But first, I must have your solemn oath that what I'll say
will not go beyond the two of us. Not even to your lover... Big Horn."
Willow Bird felt stunned. He wondered what the boy knew that was of
such importance that not even Big Horn could learn of it. Yet he stood
up to give his promise.
"I give my vow of silence to what you will be telling me," Willow Bird
sworn.
Song Bird nodded his head in acceptance. With a smile coming to the
boy's lips he quickly announced, "we're half brothers!"
"Half brothers?" asked Willow Bird with surprise. "But how?"
"My father's shameful secret that we've been sworn to protect is that
he cannot make children in any of his wives. He needs sons to support him
in his old age so he asked your... our father to sperm his first wife in
secret. I am the result."
Willow Bird looked upon the boy with new eyes. He felt the truth of it
from the many things that they've shared. Their father had often taken
them on fishing trips to the river and he had given Song Bird his
teachings and love as if the youth had been his son. He actually were.
"You are my half brother!" announced Willow Bird with joy. "You are
also my love, denied me by your father. I may not be allowed to 'touch'
you but it pours out of my eyes every time you are near. It's my body's
ache to join with yours!"
Song Bird lowered his eyes. "You have Big Horn for that."
Willow Bird fell silent. He nodded his head at the boy's unspoken
question. Big Horn was a man that he could embrace for the pleasure and
needed release of his flesh. It bothered him that Song Bird was left
without a similar companion.
Song Bird held out his left hand. He reluctantly removed his silver
ring so that it could be returned to Willow Bird.
"It is yours!" shouted Willow Bird. "I gave it to you in love and my
heart has not changed."
"Why not give it to Big Horn?" asked Song Bird.
"No. I won't," Willow Bird replied. His disturbing vision of Big Horn
wearing the boy's ring came to mind. He felt that by turning from
fulfilling its path could prevent the rest of his vision from coming
forward.
Song Bird put the silver ring back on. It didn't feel right for him
to be wearing it but to do otherwise would insult his dear friend. A
scuffling sound behind them drew his attention. Yellow Hair approached
with his arms filled with cut grass.
Willow Bird's eyes widened. A strange boy of white skin and Father Sun
hair walked up to him. It was his vision unfolding! Here stood the boy of
white light that had saved Song Bird from Big Horn's wrath.
"This is my new brother, Yellow Hair."
"I have Seen him," whispered Willow Bird. "He will save you from
drowning in the river."
Song Bird was stunned. He didn't know how Willow Bird could have
learned of that event. His mother had promised to keep it a secret so he
asked, "how did you know about that?"
With his eyes upon the white boy, Willow Bird explained. "When I was
taking a sweat in the sacred lodge of the Moss-bowl People, a vision came
to me. I saw Big Horn wearing your ring. He had struck you down with a
lightning bolt and to hurt me further, he threw you into the river to
drown. And you did.
"Yet a boy in the glow of white light came to you. He lifted you alive
from the river. It was this boy!"
"Yellow Hair has saved me from drowning in the river," explained Song
Bird. I was dead but he breathed life into me. What does the part about
Big Horn and my ring mean?"
"I don't know. The shaman has spoken to me this day with his offer to
help with my visions. He says that I could become a shaman."
"You?" asked Song Bird with a sharp inward breath.
Willow Bird nodded his head. "I've learned from my visions that things
cannot be taken literally. Our Father puts the images of what will come
to pass in my head. It requires the skills of a shaman to interpret them."
Johan dropped his armful of grass at Song Bird's feet. He had watched
the two Indians with puzzlement. The tall one looked to be a young man.
His body was lean and powerful. Cuts on his face and chest spoke of a
recent battle. 'Who was he to Song Bird?' Johan wondered.
Song Bird pointed at Willow Bird and spoke the Indian words,
"yan-washing-guh." Johan noticed how similar the name was to Song Bird.
'Were they brothers?' he wondered.
Song Bird gestured the meaning to the tall one's name. Johan already
knew that a bird had to do with it. From the way Song Bird's hands outlined
a tree shape, he figured that the tall Indian was named 'Tree Bird.'
Johan startled some when Tree Bird stood before him with hands upon
his shoulders. The dark eyes of the tall Indian fell upon him in a long
stare. His pale body was felt in the Indian's dirty hand. It reached
lower on him until coming to his front deerskin flap which was lifted.
Johan folded his arms across his chest in displeasure. The tall Indian
gestured something to Song Bird about his penis. It made the Indian boy
giggle.
"Have you pulled on it?" asked Willow Bird.
"No," Song Bird replied with uneasiness. "I do have a growing love for
this boy. If not a Mahyee-na love like ours, it's the love I have for an
adopted brother. I owe him my life!"
"As you owe me from saving you from that bear," reminded Willow Bird.
"Tell me, Song Bird... Do you forgive me for having left you up in that
redwood tree?"
Song Bird peered into Willow Bird's eyes to read him. Their
conversation had turned in an unexpected direction. He had expected his
friend to pursue his admission of love for Yellow Hair. It was a thing
that needed to be discussed. Willow Bird was expecting a reply to his
question. Song Bird gave it.
"Yes, I do. You couldn't have known that a black bear would climb up
that tall tree to get me!"
Relief was seen on Willow Bird's face. Song Bird saw how that had
concerned his friend. The matter about Yellow Hair needed to be spoken so
that no ill feelings would come between Willow Bird and himself. He
wondered how to begin.
"Have you undergone the Mahyee-na rite with Big Horn?" asked Song
Bird. He had decided on this approach.
"I am Mahyee-na. And before you ask, I will tell you that Big Horn
and I are bonded lovers. That only happened after I learned of your
father's command to keep us apart. The warrior had also saved my life!"
"Warrior?" asked Song Bird. "What did he save you from?"
"Big Horn earned his eagle's feather when slaying an evil Trickster
who had... raped me. It happened on the first night out from camp."
"Is that why you and Big Horn were a long time out on the hunting trip?"
"No. We had felled two deer which Big Horn decided would make for good
trading with the Moss-bowl Tribe. It was a good visit with their People."
Willow Bird decided to remain silent about the lusty pleasures they had
embraced with their men.
"Their people make fine pots which I'm sure Big Horn has gifted to my
mother." Song Bird remained silent a moment. He was crafting words to
explain what troubled his heart.
"You have Big Horn," explained Song Bird, "so I am free to love whom I
want." His eyes turned to the white boy at his side. "I want to give my
silver ring to Yellow Hair."
Willow Bird felt a painful tugging at his heart. It was the similar
thing he had felt when enduring the middle negotiation of Song Bird's
and Big Horn's love for him. He had made the hard decision. Big Horn's
heart and flesh were his. Song Bird should be freed to pursue his own
heart's content.
Tears threatened to rise in Willow Bird's eyes. He endured their
humility while speaking to Song Bird in formal stance. His hand held the
boy's ringed finger.
"Your bond of love unto me is cast away," spoke Willow Bird. "What we
once had is gone... like the innocence of boyhood. I have become a man.
As a brother of the Mahyee-na, I'm growing to understand my
responsibilities as a man and I will allow you a boy's love for another
boy. Give him your pledge ring."
Song Bird took the words. He had what he wanted from his dear friend.
There was pain in Willow Bird's eyes. The youth offered words of his own
to soothe him.
"I will always love you as my closest friend, Willow Bird. No one can
take away the bond of blood that we share as half brothers! You've shown
me a man's love and now I will teach it to Yellow Hair. Will you witness
my bond unto him?"
Willow Bird nodded. They stepped into the forest to prevent any other
eyes from seeing what they'll do. A look of bewilderment was on the white
boy's face.
Johan noticed the tears on Tree Bird's eyes. It was a strange thing to
see in an Indian man. His brother Song Bird led him into the trees in
silence. A fine silver ring was taken from his finger.
Song Bird turned to Willow Bird. He saw the sadness in those dark eyes
but took courage from the determination that shown in the young man's
face for him.
Willow Bird tried to smile. He saw Song Bird trying to read his
expression so he gave the boy what joy he could muster. This was his gift
of love and sacrifice to his once boy lover. An equal thing was given him
in return. Big Horn and him were now going to be truly together.
Song Bird faced the white boy. He reached down for the pale right hand
and slid his pledge ring over the boy's finger while showing the love
that he had for him. When he seated the silver ring, he spoke the word
'love' three times. The white boy's eyes widen in surprise.
Johan knew that something important was going on. He accepted Song
Bird's gift of the silver ring. The Indian word of 'love' touched his
heart in a way that was difficult to accept. 'A brother's love or
something more?' Johan wondered.
The tall Indian had a sullen face for him. Johan lowered his gaze to
the bright eyes of Song Bird. It made him smile. The Indian boy's arms
rushed around his body and held him tight. Johan felt the weight of the
ring on his finger. He didn't understand all that was happening but he
embraced its spirit.
Song Bird felt his body being held. He was glad that the white boy
accepted his pledge. All the days of their growing friendship had been
leading up to this. It was a heady feeling. They would soon be sharing
the physical joy of their new bond.
Willow Bird saw the love in Yellow Hair's strange blue eyes. It made
him down cast his own eyes to the ground. 'Did the white boy see my
sadness?' wondered Willow Bird. His heart ached to know that he had truly
lost his first lover.
The two boys kept their close embrace. It brought a measure of joy to
quench Willow Bird's pain. He saw how their love was new like the pretty
flower that was blossoming. An idea came to him that would be like a
gift to the new lovers. He waited with it until the boys were done hugging.
When their tender moment ended, Willow Bird presented his gift. "Song
Bird, why don't you 'embrace' Yellow Hair now to consumate your new bond.
I'll scout out the forest to ensure that no eyes look upon your love act."
Song Bird faced his older friend to read him. He studied the smiling
face to be sure of Willow Bird's good intent. After being satisfied,
Song Bird nodded his head. He's eager to make love with Yellow Hair in
the hope that this time there will be no interruption.
Willow Bird turned from the two boys. He circled around their
position in the forest while keeping an eye out for the day sentry. He
doesn't want the lover's act to be discovered and ruined... like what
happened to Song Bird and himself. He vowed to keep the boys' love pledge
a close secret.
Song Bird waited until Willow Bird was out of sight. He turned to
Yellow Hair and dropped his breechclout while speaking 'love' three
times. The white boy smiled in understanding. He untied his thong belt to
join his two flaps over the Indian boy's over the ground.
Johan looked over Song Bird's nakedness. He saw the boy's brown pole
lifting against his belly. No groin hair. A rosy knob popped out from the
thick skin and it oozed sexual excitement. His own pink dick stood up
against his belly.
Song Bird reached for his brother's hips. With his fingers pressing
against the white boy's ass, he brought their hard bodies together. The
feel of their touching poles was very thrilling, like when Willow Bird
had first held his body with love in the river.
Johan gasped. He accepted the Indian boy's hold of his body and held
him back. Their long poles gently rubbed. He could feel the motion of
their love making when his hands reached low for the boy's soft butt.
Song Bird smiled. He reached for the white boy's rear end to fully
embrace their male belly rubbing. On the ground over their feet were
their discarded breechclouts. He realized how naked and vulnerable they
were to be making love in the forest. A quick look around found no spying
eyes. Not even Willow Bird's. He was glad that his half brother was
keeping guard over what they were doing.
Johan also looked around. He wondered where that tall Indian had gone
off to. It was with a startling realization that he recalled the
warrior's similar embrace with him in the foggy woods. The morning mist
had covered their naked act from sight. It was not so this day.
Song Bird noticed his lover's troubled face. He smiled to assure the
white boy that they were alone. Their hands resumed love's beat over
their butts.
It was a joyful embrace for the two boys. They felt the warmth of his
companion's naked skin against his own. Between their bellies, two poles
stood together and rubbed with the fleshy thrills a male enjoys.
Willow Bird glanced through the trees at the embracing boys every so
often. Spying on their naked act brought him some shame. The hope in his
heart wouldn't go away, even when seeing that Song Bird had pledge
himself to another. His head knew that the boy was gone from him. A sad
realization. Yet he could now turn to Big Horn with his full love.
Willow Bird tore his eyes from the two boys to continue his guard over
them. He soon completed another circle around their position. There was
no one else in this part of the woods.
A bulge pushed against Willow Bird's front flap. He knew where his
excitement had come from but he was unable to offer it relief. When the
boys were finished with their mating, he would rush back to Big Horn's
tipi to satisfy his own need.
Johan moaned. He hid his face in Song Bird's neck when the thrills from
his penis became too intense. A lime smell was detected. He mouthed the
Indian boy's wet skin as if kissing him. An answering kiss from Song Bird
came to his neck. The strangeness of it made the white boy's loins explode.
Song Bird felt some pain when his butt was roughly handled by Yellow
Hair. Their belly rubbing had turned into a fierce thrusting contest.
Locked bodies. The white boy cried out as he became the first one to be
released. He splashed their heated bodies with the clear sperm coming out
from their love.
The Indian boy rushed to join him. Song Bird's erection felt more
slippery against his spurting pole. To keep their bodies together, Johan
held onto the boy's ass that tried humping out of his hands. He had
forgotten about the bear's claw wounds on his Indian brother. Only the
urgency of lust was in him.
Song Bird winced. He endured the pain from his butt and drove his long
dick to its completion against Yellow Hair's. A held breath. He felt the
sweet tightening in his loins. His loud outcry announced the fulfillment
of their new love bond.
Johan peeked down at their bellies. He saw Song Bird's rosy knob pop
out from its thick skin and cum. It shot high to his chest. Another
thrust sent a clear streak to his belly. His sweaty butt was savagely
pulled on until all that the Indian boy had to give him was released.
Song Bird felt pain. His squirting dick offered him much pleasure. It
was a dark mixing of feelings that made his sexual experience a
frightening one. He didn't think that he should be enjoying the act with
another male so much.
Their heated bodies slowed. Loud breaths filled the woods. Johan's
ears were filled with a buzzing. His head felt light. A smile came to his
freckled face for their lusty accomplishment. He had made love to a wild
Indian boy!
Song Bird smiled when realizing that same thing. They had mated! Its
wet result flowed down their touching bodies. He knew that there were
many days ahead for them to express their sweet love. In time, he hoped
that he could fully accept it.
Willow Bird appeared. He kept his eyes averted as if he were a shy
girl looking upon a man's nakedness. Yellow Hair seemed embarrassed. He
reached down to their feet and fetched both of their breechclouts. Song
Bird was reluctant to be donning his. He wanted to keep their wet embrace
for a while longer.
"I will take my leave of you," asked Willow Bird. "I'm glad that you
have someone that you can embrace in Mahyee-na love, Song Bird. Your
white brother is a handsome boy. He looks to have a good heart as well."
Song Bird could only nod his head. He watched Willow Bird run towards
camp. A small grin came to his face when noticing the bulge under his
half brother's front flap. He knew that Big Horn would soon be receiving
a 'hungry' guest!
Yellow Hair squirmed under his hands. Song Bird ignored the offer to
put on his breechclout and held the white boy's sweet smelling body
instead. Their wet bellies and touching poles felt nice. He wanted their
moment of love to last forever.
Johan gave in. He dropped their deerskin cloths and held his Indian
lover back. It was nice to be holding a boy of his height in this naked
and very male way. He was filled with joy that he was becoming Indian.
Father Sun walked His circle across the sky. He had been watching the
band of His two-legged children along the river with much interest. Peace
would come to the other band of His children to the south. A good thing.
Yet much more would need to be achieved by His brown children if they
were to endure the White Tide sweeping in from the East...
- The End -
"Brave Willow Bird" continues with Big Horn's journey to the Moss-bowl
Tribe with Willow Bird. Their lustful visit turns to tragedy though. A
new path faces the boy. Can Willow Bird overcome his great loss to find
his way through a vision quest? This booklet is expected to be ready in
May, 1997.
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{end of file: POTTERY-SHARDS-5 The stories continue in: -6}