THE NATIVE WAR SERIES BOOK THREE - GEORGE'S STORY

GEORGE'S STORY - CHAPTER 3

I gasped as I came up from under the water of the river. The current was strong and the water was frigid. But the sight that lay out in front of me made me want to go back under the water and hide. All around me in the plains there were indians in full battle paint and all were sporting weapons. Fighting against them were militia men clad in their battle uniforms and firing guns all around. The plains where chaos with dead Indians and dead militia men everywhere and the wounded lying all over on both sides. As I looked behind me I saw the Indians village being raided and the Indians who were not at battle getting slaughtered. Even in the river I was in there were dead bodies floating all over and the river ran a slightly red tint because of all the blood. I felt sick to my stomach so much that I turned down and vomited into the river. Then my eyesight went dizzy and I blacked out.

I awoke in a cold sweat and turned my face to the side only to have my face splat directly into a puddle of vomit. I jumped up out of the my bed and quickly started cleaning off my face. After that disgusting wake up from a disturbing dream I wasn't feeling very hungry especially not for cold bison. I knew I had to eat something because the sun was already high in the sky, almost directly overhead. I know I have stayed too long here in this one spot but I couldn't leave for I had to find my step. I'm not sure if I even want to continue into the wilderness to make a home cause if I do end up continuing into the wilderness to make a home I will be so lonely that I will likely go insane. But if I end up going back to Littletown we sold everything that we couldn't bring in the wagon so there will be nothing for me to go back to. I'm at a crossroads and I can't decide which way to go so I will wait here until something decides for me. And if I die by waiting here, so what. Keeny and Depe can survive on their own and the oxen can form a herd and survive. All these thoughts go through my head as I clean my bed and remake the fire that burned out yesterday. Then I looked up into the sky and saw a weird smoke trail floating into the sky. It almost looked like a trail from firearms but there was too much smoke for it to be from a gun. Then a noise brought my eyes from the sky to the forest. I sounded like a small crackle of a branch and if I hadn't ever hunted before I wouldn't have thought much of it but I had and it sounded like someone or many someones was creeping through the wood towards me. I crept into the wagon and grabbed my flintlock pistol. Having this made me feel a little more safe but I still swept the woods with my eyes watching for whatever is hunting me. Then, suddenly a lone Indian ran out of the bushes, ax in hand, and before I could take aim and fire the Indian slapped my pistol out of my hand. We tussled for a moment, before he lost his footing and I shoved him down onto a rock. The Indian hit his head on the rock and didn't reopen his eyes. After sitting for a moment and thinking I ran over to the oxen and saddled them all up to the wagon. I heaved the bison carcass onto the back of the wagon and cleaned up camp. But I wasn't fast enough as another Indian came running out of the shrubs towards me. This time however I was ready and I shot the Indian directly in the head with my flint. I didn't even try to put out the fire as I jumped up onto the wagon seat and cracked the reins to get the wagon going. As I did this I started to hear the clip clop of horse's hooves and the first of the Indians came out of the woods. Slowly they formed an angry swarm behind me getting closer and closer for their horses were faster than my oxen. When I looked back I could see the two Indians from yesterday except today they looked angry. Then the arrows began to rain out of the sky and I began returning fire. One of the Indians managed to jump off of his horse and onto my wagon but he was bite in the leg by Depe and shot in the chest by me. Keeny managed to meow at him which proved no help at all. I shot one of the Indians horses legs which caused two of the Indians behind the rider to crash into his horse. This provided a slight roadblock but the other Indians went around the pile and the chase continued on. As I continued shooting backwards I aimed for the masses and one of my shots managed to hit an Indian in the shoulder and he fell off his horse to be trampled by the other horses. I began to think I could get out of this crazy situation when one of the flying spear landed in the shoulder of one of the oxen. It started limping and then it's knees buckled and the other oxen went down as well. The whole wagon crashed to a stop, almost flipping on it's side. The Indians descended on me like vultures on a corpse and I tried to defend against the horde. As the Indians circled around me two went down, one from a pistol shot and the other from a stray arrow shot directly through the chest. At this point I had run out of bullets in my flintlock and I changed to my hunting rifle. As the Indians were closing in faster and faster to kill me a lucky shot from rifle hit one of the Indians and the Indians stopped attacking me and circled around the shot Indian. In this formation they rode off into the plains back to where their camp was and didn't even look back at me. As I looked out across the plains I realized I had no reason to continue on this journey. There was nothing left for me out here and there never would be. This thought is was drove me to cut the injured oxen loose and turn the wagon around. I had had enough of the plains, their harsh lifestyle, and its fierce indians. I was going back to Littletown to build a life and start anew. This was my only thought as the wagon rolled off into the seemingly endless plains towards my new life.