Chapter 1

I was in my twelfth year, but only barely, I had only been twelve for a week, maybe two. I knew going into the forest during the Indian's hunting season was just asking for trouble. But Indians did not scare me, they never bothered me, I never bothered them, simple as that. I had my hunting gun with me, in case I happened to come across any wild game on my walk, my family could use a good meal right now. We don't have a great deal of money, and food has been scarce. As such, I never leave for the woods without a gun in case I decide to go on a small hunt. I've only walked for a few minutes when a swift, and subtle movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I saw animal skin, perhaps, if I'm lucky it's some sort of animal.

I inch a little closer to where I saw the movement, and hiding behind the base of a tree, I peer in the general direction. I frown, seeing not an animal, but a man, though I am certain he does not see me. Though his body is turned away, I can still make out a great deal of him. His hair's long, and is twice braided, and wrapped in animal fur. He's wearing no shirt, how could he be allowed to do such a thing? In my hometown, we are always made to fully dress! I push back that question, and return to paying attention. For the most part, save for the bare chest, he's fully clothed in a strange pair of leggings, some form of loincloth, and strange shoes.

In one hand, he seems to be carrying some form of what I am aware is called a 'spear'. His arms are painted with an animal design, though it looks more permanent then paint. I can't tell what the animal is exactly, but it looks a bit like a wolf. An ellogant white horse with a beautiful saddle, also made of animal skin is nearby him, I stare in awe. Pa only owns one horse, which he uses to ride into town, and I've yet to learn to ride myself.

I can't help but wonder who this man is. I've never seen someone like him before. I can feel my stomach tightening from both my fear and my awe at the sight of him. He must be cold, as he moves over, and slips on his shirt, which appears to be made of the same type of texture. Only when he also pulls on a robe do I realize just what he is, who he is. It's clearly made from bufallo hide, and only a certain group of people wore that: INDIANS!

I try to back up, but snap a twig underneath me, I gulp and look down at my feet realizing my mistake. Before I even look up, I have been grabbed firmly by the arm, and my gun is taken from my hand. I look into the man's face, and see the strange paint on his face. I learned from pa that red paint was the mark of raiders or of Indians at war. My mind is screaming, I realize what will happen next even before I'm lifted onto a second, concealed horse. I feel myself panicking, and grab a hold of the horses reigns, fearful of falling off if we were to ride off without warning.

Had my instincts not cut in, that was what would have happened. The man pulled himself onto the white horse I had seen, and rides off, the horse he has lifted me onto follows in suit. I hold on for dear life, I had fallen to a trap, the man had seen me. He had wanted me to see him, to get close enough to grab me quickly. This all comes to me rather quickly, I knew at once what I now was. We ride for some time before he stops, and says something to the horse I'm riding in his own language. I can't understand it, and therefore, am left rather confused and scared. As my horse stands still, he trots around me in a circle, he pulls my hands from the reigns.

The next I know, he ties my wrists tightly together with some odd form of rope, he ties the other end to the side of the reigns. "You now belong to the Sioux." Are the only words he says to me.

We soon continue, deeper into the forest, and further away from my home.

-----------

Several days and nights, maybe even weeks passed without stopping in the day. I was tired, and wanted nothing more then to go home. Each night, we stopped, and he fed me raw meat. It tasted horrible, rancid even, but I had eaten it without argument as it was food. It was not long ago that we reached the Indian village, three days ago, the man had brought me into an empty 'Tipi', told me to stay and exited. I didn't dare exit for fear of what the Sioux would do to me.

I suppose their deciding on what to do with me. Whether to sacrifice me by burning at the stake, as I have heard the normal method is, or to adopt me into their tribe. Perhaps, they would decide to set me free, though I sincerely doubted this was the case. I am still a child, I'm too valuable for them to give up and I know it. I had just laid down to sleep a bit sometime in the afternoon when the flap of the tipi opened.

I held my shivering from the cold wind that swept in. It had to be winter, as the wind was rather icey. An elderly man stands before me, his hair graying, and his skin wrinkled. He is dressed in the same manner as my captor had, save for the beautiful, but long headress he wore. He had to be what was known as the Sachem or rather, the chief of their tribe. "Good evenin' to you white boy." The Sachem says, almost acting friendly "You'll be happy to hear, you will soon leave this home."

"You are sending me back?" The Sachem let out a hearty laughed at my question.

"No, no... I mean here." He moves his hand in a circular motion around the tipi for emphasis "We have chosen to spare you."

I look at him with an understanding nod, I am glad to have been spared, though I know what this means. I am to live in the village, likely for the rest of my life if they have the choice. My eyes lower in sadness, I will never see my family again, and I know it. I will never taste Mother's home cooking again, I've missed that for this long journey. Pa was going to teach me how to properly hunt this spring, I will never get that chance. I look up, respectfully looking the Sachem in the eyes, not that I really have a choice. "You will need to change, you cannot be adopted in white clothing." The Sachem hands me a bundle of their clothing "I will come for you in four days time."

He leaves me with that final statement, I stand in the rather large 'home', unfolding what they have given me. They are made entirely of buckskin I realize, save for the belt to hold the cloth and leggings up, as well as the buffalo robe they have given me. I was about to change when a woman came in, a 'Squaw' as they are called. She says not a word to me, but rather gets right to her work. She undresses me without warning, and pours a bucket of water over my head. I shiver wildly at the cold air I now feel, but she ignores this. She scrubs me down, wiping every single inch of dirt I collected on the journey.

She then dresses me in the clothig I have been presented with, other then the robe. It feels unusually comfortable and warm, far warmer then my clothing before. She leaves at once, and I am once again alone in the tipi. I stare around, and set myself down, my mind wonders what will happen to me now. Would I be treated well as an adopted tribal member? I suppose I will learn in four days.

-----------

In four days, right on time, three Squaw's and the Sachem enter my tipi. The Squaw's have come with a bowl of their tribal paint, they only paint my face with red paint, a form of showing I am safe. One pulls the buffalo robe onto me, and the Sachem leads me out of the tipi. My head is bowed, and I feel sick to my stomach. I am brought to a man who holds a small, but sharp, knife. I am told to remove my shirt and robe from my upper body, and I do so. "What tatoo shall he bare?" I hear the Sachem being asked.

"The bear."

I flinch as the man at once digs into my right arm with his knife, but do not show any other emotion. He carves into my arm what appears to me the image of a bear, on both of it's back legs. He smears a dark cream over it several times, I've heard of this form of tatooing, and suspect that once my wound heals, it will be a black tatoo. Though of course, I had bled, he had wiped it clean. The Sachem redressed me in the shirt and robe. "Now." The Sachem placed his hands onto either of my shoulders in a surprisingly soft way "We can begin the ceremony."

---------

So what do you guys think, this just came to me while researching Native American captives.

Please review if you want to read more.