A Ten Pound Bag
Chapter 79: Pawnee Debutantes

Copyright© 2020 by Emmeran

It was apparently one of those days that would not end until the last mistake had been made. In my defense I’d been in country, or in era if you will, for just over a month at this point. Simple gaffes were expected to be made, even doozies like this one.

The parade started, thankfully this was a small lodge and they couldn’t bring that many in here, I hoped. There must have been a queue outside and they came in apparently by rank in the tribe, each of the wives carried a small dish which they placed around the fire for our potluck. Then they came to meet the visiting hero.

I was wishing I could be anywhere else, I was famous for escaping gatherings meant to recognize me but escape was not in my future, not with Banshee standing guard over me. Brin for his part was the picture of elegance, sitting stoically and proudly as the procession came by, he only broke form for a slight moment to growl at one man. I burnt that man’s face into my memory, I trusted Brin’s judgement.

Petalesharo stood next to me and played Press Secretary, he was damn good at it too. He spoke to each person who came up repeating the same message which I assumed was either a long winded diatribe for or against me. While he did this I lounged on a fur covered bench leaning heavily on the pack that was on my right hand side. This kept the weight off of my wounded buttock and gave me the appearance of an over-confident asshole. I also looked a little bit like a barbarian warlord receiving tribute.

I had two attractive women kneeling in front of me, a war dog and a Press Secretary. I also had my weapons arranged around me and coup sticks proudly on display, Banshee had even put up to tiki like oil lamps to light our area. I felt like a fool and ended up proving that I was one moments later.

The first family down the line was the senior chief of the section of the Pawnee Nation., I won’t go into the complexity of Pawnee tribal politics but basically it was equal to any tribal politic historically in the history of mankind. I knew this and just followed what Pete told me, it’s what Pete hadn’t told me that got me.

I don’t remember the senior chiefs name, I remember that he had a bent nose so that’s what I called him in my head; Chief Bent Nose. He was a normal sized guy and seemed nice, Pete regaled me with a few of his exploits and the introduced his wives. Bent Nose then introduced his daughter.

Now his daughter was a sight to behold, she had to be close to six foot tall which was gargantuan for an 1820’s woman. She was thin as a rail and plain looking as could come. Naturally the gentleman in me took over and I pulled myself to my feet to shake the Chief’s hand and since his daughter was presented I complimented her.

Pete faithfully translated. I then offered the gifts I had for the Chief. Tobacco, gunpowder and whiskey, it just seemed me like the thing to do. In other words what I would do in the modern day. Well the Chief seemed happy with his gifts and his daughter reacted strangely, one of the Chiefs wives suddenly had a big smile. I just knew at that moment that I had f•©ked up.

I simply sat back down, I needed to get this night over with. The procession moved on and Banshee was scowling at me, I was sure I had f•©ked up. Things moved faster after that, there were many more chiefs and wives and some very pretty girls for me to meet but I had a blood stain slowly spreading up my shirt from my wound and people took notice of that.

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