7 comments/ 34397 views/ 10 favorites A Mountain Man's Love Story By: LaPatitMort My great, great grandfather was a wiry young teenager from Scotland who came to America to escape jail for rebelling against the crown. His brogue was so thick that few people could understand him, so he kept moving west until he found himself living as a mountain man in the Sierra-Nevadas. He was a small man who had to make it on skill and his wits because he had no great brawn. He never drank because it clouded his mind. He never lied because it was wrong. He spoke little because he could not be understood. He was a virgin at twenty-three and had never had a date with a girl. Those who met him or spoke about him said he had an air that kept even the bullies from messing with him. People just knew that he was no-nonsense and would stand his ground regardless. Today we are a large family of mixed races and cultures. At sixty, I wanted to sort out the family fiction from historical facts, so I am spending some time, years, if necessary, to know Nathan MacKaren. Who knows, if that was truly his name? It doesn't show up in the archives in Scotland. It never showed up on any Ellis Island registry. He probably came down through Canada but I could not find any records there either. The next generation told me he joked that his father's family was made up of Judges and thieves and that the family crest said, "We've got both sides covered." He was with the same woman for fifty years, yet the family today knows little about her. My first task was to discover the great, great grandmother who went along with Silent Nat. Nat read a little, never saw a bible, got nervous in crowds and could see and hear more in a minute in the forest than our greatest modern naturalists could in a month. He belonged there and was part of the natural course of the mountains' life. He did not struggle to get grass to grow where weeds were happy, domesticate cattle or make a fortune trapping beaver for hats that had no purpose in his mind. His logic was his and he had no apologies for it and would not explain his decisions to anyone. He would work to free a fawn from a thicket and later kill a buck for meat. Many of the native Indian clans had stories that remembered some of the non-Indian men who took Indian wives. I sat through many long hours of basket weaving, simple chores and difficult translations to learn the little stories I'm going to tell you. Nat's "wife" never changed her childhood name. Quiet Girl had been taken in battle during a summer on the dry plains. She was traded twice as a tall, gangly fourteen-year old. For a while, she was with the Piautes. Their ways were strange and their language was hurtful to her ears. By eighteen, she was a beauty and was noticed by a wiseman's son. The shaman wanted his son to marry high in the clan and his handsome son was pursued by several good prospects, so he told a story of how Quiet Girl would bring sad times to the tribe and she was driven away to wander and starve in the frosty nights of fall. All the tribes accepted Nat and a few other mountain men, but more and more white men were coming to settle, trap, prospect for gold and trade. As bad elements moved in, it was easier each year for hot heads from all cultures to label everyone different from themselves as evil, liars and not to be trusted. One evening early, Nat had settled down on the dark east side of a rocky crest and was just about to make a fire when he heard a struggling cry. Stealthily he moved quickly to peer over the ridge and down the hillside. In a clearing three men were holding a woman down while another was stripping her to rape her. She no longer cried out. The men who held her ripped her clothing and she stared at them with hate filled eyes. Nat saw his first pair of almost mature female breasts, his first smooth rounded naked belly and his first patch of pubic hair that did not have a dick hanging out of it. She was too beautiful to be violated. He had never fired his new repeating Winchester at another human. His warning from the shadows brought on half drunk laughter. "Leave the woman alone; what you are doing is wrong." The man with his pants down reached for a pistol and carelessly shot in the direction of the voice. The sound of a round from Nat's carbine echoed off the hillsides as a slug struck the man in the thigh. A second man stood, grabbed his rifle and aimed toward Nat's hiding place, so Nat fired again, also hitting the second man in the thigh. This angered the oldest and most drunk of the would be rapist and he stood and pointed his pistol at the woman on the ground. Nat fired across the forty yards and the bullet hit the center of the man's chest killing him instantly. The fight was out of the remaining three. They moved away, discarded their weapons and stood with their hands up. "Just start down the hillside meadow. Stay in the middle. Sit on the rocks on the far side. Tomorrow morning you can come back for your gear, horses and bury your friend." There was just enough sunlight left for Nat to cut the woman free, find some of men's clothes that best fit her, an extra blanket and the extra horse. In the lengthening shadows, the naked woman, dressed, put the blanket around her shoulders, followed and was surprised when he trusted her to lead the horse away. In just a few minutes they were where he had been planning to camp. They gathered his supplies in the near darkness. He motioned for her to mount, he mounted and they rode away from her ordeal hoping the moon would rise soon to give them some sense of safe passage. For the first hour and the second, Nat wondered why she did not just ride into the darkness. He could not always see her, but he knew she was there even when he did not hear her horse's steps. At sunrise, they came upon his camp from the night before. She knew what to do as he pulled in one fish still alive on his tethered line and mixed some once used coffee grounds with some new. She had a fire going. For the first time he saw her face; she was just a girl, younger than him. His stare and admiration emboldened her. She stood her ground as he opened the blanket, lightly touched her face and neck and then looked down her body. She expected to be taken. When he let his hand trail down to her covered breasts, she looked defiant but he pulled his hand back from the exciting softness. At that moment, she knew he would not hurt her and at least sexually, she had some control of this inexperienced, caring man. She reached out her hand and pointed to the fish and his knife. He gave her both and she returned to the water to scale and clean it. A tiny piece of salt pork was sizzling in the pan when she returned, looked puzzled but put the two filets in. Two corn dodgers, coffee and fried fish had never tasted so good. Quiet girl could do without the coffee. Nat's smile when she turned up her nose at its taste and his sly looks at her body when he thought she was not watching, pleased her and she made a game out of teasing him off and on all day. They stayed at the camp, he snared a rabbit, caught another fish and shared some jerky with her in between his scouting trips to see if they were being followed. She wanted to use his knife again during the late afternoon to scrape the rabbit skin. She pointed to her light tattered moccasins and used her fingers to make like snow and held her arms around herself and pretended to shiver. He understood. If she stayed with him through tomorrow, she would see his permanent camp, its protected cave full for furs and his stores, all well protected and warm in the rocks at the base of a smooth sided hill. He had used that camp to winter over for the last two years. The snow was not so deep as to keep the game away. As darkness settled the chill in the night air was very noticeable. He gathered dry leaves, her blanket and showed her an outcropping that she could nestle into to stay warm over the night that was going to go below freezing. She watched as he prepared a place for himself close by. Quiet Girl was starting to understand that he was very interested in her but he did not know about women, how to act or what to do. Indian children play openly together, even play sexually but then the females must be true after marriage. Some good providers, strong braves or powerful leaders had more than one wife. Some men had women from their dead father, their brothers or their friends that they sheltered and provided for and took when they wanted. She was very tired. She felt safe enough to sleep and dozed off wondering how this small man with so much hair would look cleaned up. As a Paiute captive she would be beaten for sleeping late. It was sunny, the good smell of the bad tasting coffee, woke her. Nat was walking back from the edge of the stream. She was very still, letting him think she was still asleep. He had shaved, pulled his hair back, had hair on his chest and his body was lean and strong. The sun was behind him so she could not see his face until he turned to dig for a clean shirt in his saddlebag. He turned toward her when she gasped. He was young and pretty. His hair was the color of red clay. She had never seen anything like it. Like a moth to a flame, she wiggled out of her bed and went to stand in front of him so the sun hit his face. Her eyes did not blink and her fingers reached out and played with the curly hair on his chest. When she looked at his face, she stared at his green eyes. She could not take her gaze away. Nat got embarrassed under her gaze and turned away, thinking she must see him as a freak or worse. They ate, broke camp and began the day's journey. All day he tried not to look at her and she felt that he was uneasy from the morning. Still she wanted to touch his hair, play with his chest, see his eyes again and see him with nothing on. She had been a captive. She was no virgin but she was still a young girl and had never known shyness in a male or felt kindness from one. Once she masturbated during the night and cried out and an old woman beat her with a stick. Only a couple of times more had she pleasured herself. No one had told her if was all right and the times she had been taken by men did not please her. When they got to his camp in the afternoon, he had her begin a fire to heat rocks and he busied himself in the cave, she had not been in yet. He walked her to a spring and farther through a clump of trees to a narrow but deep, fast flowing river. She could see deer, a beaver dam making a small lake on a stream flowing to the river and high over head two eagles danced on the winds. This would be a great positive sign to the Piautes. He showed her where to bathe, gather water, go to the bathroom and then he took her to the cave. He had dug a shallow pit and put a tied frame of sticks over it. He showed her around to his stacks of furs, his few pieces of furniture, a mirror, knives, utensils, rope and many useful things. He had her make another fire in the cave. "How stupid," she thought but the smoke found a hole to rise up and disappear, leaving warmth in the smaller end of the cave. He put a grate over the fire and a pot of water with cooked, dried meat, grain, roots, some nuts and some crushed dried leaves. He had Quiet Girl sit and watch as he worked for her. She realized the pit was for warm rocks and the frame was for soft furs. It was a bed just for her. She would not have to sleep with the dogs to say warm. The pot began to fill the air with wonderful smells. Her stomach growled. He disappeared into a cold, dry, sand filled part of the cave and came out with an apple and handed it to her. While she ate, he sat his small table. She knew the spoon and the knife but the strange four pointed thing was a mystery. His plates were metal, blue with specks like his coffee pot but not heavy and black like his cooking pot. Again he made his coffee but he made it weaker, added milk from his corralled horse and put honey in it. This Quiet Girl could like. It warmed her inside and she liked to wrap both her hands around the hot metal cup. His brow was shinning with sweat so he stripped off his shirt. Again she watched his every move. He motioned for her to sit by the fire and stir the pot of food. Before she knelt down she ran her hand through the hair on his chest again. When he turned from her, she wanted him to know that she liked doing that so she opened her shirt exposing her maturing breasts. Nat's body froze and he forgot to breathe. Quiet Girl reached out, took his hand and placed it on her right breast. Nothing in his life was so soft, so inviting, so captivating. At first he rubbed softly and then pulled at the nipple. He cupped it. His hand would not cover it all. She jumped back when he squeezed the nipple too hard. His eyes had tears that he had hurt her. She took his hand again and showed him how to touch her breasts. Just before she knelt down to stir the food, she pulled her right breast up and licked at it. Nat was a statue when she offered it to him. Gently, he bent down licked at her nipple, kissed it and sucked it gently into his mouth. Her soft moan said he had done something right. Still she covered up and sat to tend their food. Her face was just a foot from his spread legs. She could see his pants were tight and uncomfortable. She smiled, she liked making him uncomfortable. She had never been in control before. She liked that too. When he served the food, he watched every movement she made, searching for approval or rejection. The tastes were new, complex. When she liked everything, he relaxed and enjoyed timing his bites with hers. It was dark outside when they finished cleaning up. He stoked the fire and could not take his eyes off her. He read her question and tried to explain with his strange words and his hands that he wanted to see the rest of her body. She understood quickly but let him keep struggling to explain. Instead, of showing she understood she did the same movements back to him. Puzzled, but still, he took off his shirt. She did the same. He got her a blanket but the small space with the flickering flames was warm; she did not use it. He motioned at the rest of her clothing. She did not have anything on her feet, so she pointed at his boots. Now they both understood the game. She helped pull his boots off but his eyes never moved from her slightly swaying breasts. She even watched his eyes when she rolled her shoulders first one way and then the next. She clinched her teeth to keep from laughing at how his eyes followed as if bound to each nipple. Again he pointed to her pants. She held up one finger and then pointed to his, as if to say, "First you take yours off." Quiet Girl could see his inexperience and uneasy movements. She could see how his pale skin flushed red and how he was using more courage to show her his body than he needed to defeat the four men to save her. The red hair from his chest trailed down to the "V" as he unbuttoned his pants. He pushed at them, had to adjust his cock and pushed again. Under a ball of red hair was a beautiful, slightly upturned shaft, already bobbing and glistening. It was long and thick in her experience. She could not see his balls. The control and knowing that she would not be hurt or raped excited her. She reached out, grasped him, pulled the skin back and felt it throb in time with his heart. A drop of liquid glistened like sun on an ice cycle as her other hand rolled his balls around in their sack. She had never enjoyed touching a male. Always they held her, forced themselves into her body or her mouth, came quickly and then pushed her away because she had no value to them. Nat's body shuddered and he knew he was about to cum from the touches of the only other human who had touched his adult body in a sexual way. He reached down and pulled his cock from her hand, so she would know that her touch was wonderful and too much for him to endure. It had never happened to her before but somehow she knew what he was telling her. She let go but his dick continued to dance in the flickering light. His breath was ragged, his eyes were distant, still he pointed to her pants. He was frightened of her. He stood as she reached out and touched the drop on the end of his cock and then licked it from her finger. Her action surprised them both. He had never thought of such a thing and she had never wanted to do such a thing. She wiggled out of the pants and stood with her legs a foot apart in front of him. His eyes looked like he had been smoking peyote. Every inch of her skin he memorized, every movement, he followed. He knelt in front of her, looked up into her eyes, reached for her hand and closed it over his trembling one. Tears filled her eyes. He did not see, he only saw a woman's body for the first time. Still he had hurt her by touching her nipple too roughly. Now, he wanted to know how to touch her and he was asking, "Take my hand, teach me to please you." His language was strange but the tone was unmistakable, "You are so beautiful, I pray that you will want to be with me." Quiet Girl took his hand, put his two middle fingers together and pulled them to her mouth. She sucked them, made them wet, parted her legs wider and licked his fingertips. She held his fingers together and guided them to her dripping slit and pushed them inside her. His eyes were as wide open as they could get. He curled his fingers to feel her wetness and she moaned. He felt a spongy spot and pressed at it and her body pressed back. She let go of his hand and used both of hers to open the lips of her pussy. They were wet and the scent made Nat's head swim. He felt his cock drip pre-cum on his thigh. One of her fingers rubbed at a shinny nub just peeking from under its hood. Her finger showed him how to rub above, around but not yet directly on the swelling tiny cock. Now she was moaning and rubbing it directly. It was his move, but one hand was busy inside her. Her body sucked at his fingers and did not want them to leave. One hand steadied him from falling over. She had tasted him. He leaned forward and pressed the flat of his tongue against the pearl. Her fingers retreated. He licked, sucked softly, kissed and then retreated to suck at her swollen lips. The nectar of her body was more addictive than honey. He searched for every drop and then licked up again. The tiny cock was free from it cover now so he sucked at it gently. Her legs buckled. He caught her and helped her lie back. Her hands both grabbed his hair and pulled his face between her legs. He only knew to continue what he was doing and keep thrusting into her with his fingers and raking them across the sponge on the way out. Nat wanted to do this for the rest of his life but her thighs clamped around his head and her body began to tremble. Her body arched and she cried out. Not in pain so he kept licking, not in objection so he kept thrusting. Again she cried out and a fountain of what he enjoyed burst from her. He drank what he could as her body convulsed under him and her hands pulled his hair painfully. The arch of her body slowly slid flat onto the sand of the cave's floor. Her hands relaxed; her thighs opened; her belly loosened a great sigh came from her. Her body was so still it frightened him, except he could still feel the sheath around his fingers suck gently. Soon even that ceased. Panic filled his body. He rose over her, knelt by her head, pulled her face up to his and rocked her over and over asking each time, "Are your ok?" "Are your ok?" "Are you ok?" Tears were flowing down his cheeks when her eyes opened to see his concern. She did not know what happened either but she knew it was wonderful and she knew she needed to comfort him and tell him how her body was pleased and satisfied by what he had done. Quiet Girl did not have the chance. When Nat saw her eyes open he scooped her up like she was a feather and carried her to the bed he had made for her. He wasn't sure that he had not hurt her. He tucked her in, held her and said soft things to her. Her body was sated. Her eyes closed and she slept more soundly, wrapped in safety, than it had ever done before. A Mountain Man's Love Story She awoke to the smells of food and the endless coffee. He was bathed, dressed, shaved. The cave was warm and she ducked her head under the furs and confirmed that it was smells from her satisfied pussy that filled the air. Somehow she needed to reassure him and tell him how wonderful she felt. They had never kissed. She had never liked it. Nude she stood, pulled a blanket around her and went to him. He stood and she wrapped it around them both and brought her lips to his. That was sweet but nature told her to flick out her tongue. His mouth opened, he sucked gently and offered his. In just a minute her tender pussy wanted more attention and she could feel his clothed cock throbbing against her thigh. Now she too was confused. She gave him a quick kiss and let her hand trail down his body and squeeze his cock. It seemed bigger today, bigger than she had ever taken. She grabbed her clothes and rushed out for an ice-cold morning bath. When she returned, she went first to the fire, dripping and shivering and then bent over to kiss her man again. He smiled from ear to ear and finished making their breakfast. She ate but she wanted him. She wondered if he knew how babies were made. She wondered if he would stay with her, hurt her or even kill her. She looked around, remembered what he had done for her, what he offered, how he worked for her, how he wanted to please her, she suppressed all other thoughts except, this was her man. She liked the security, the safety, the caring, the food, the gentleness and the belonging. This would have to pass for 1870's frontier love. Other ideas about love would have to wait for a more modern world. Quiet Girl watched Nat return from his second icy bath of the day before sunset. She saw him swing his drying blanket from his body and step his shivering body into his pants. His balls and cock were shriveled up. Not nearly as intimidating and exciting as they were that morning. She had heard the old women laugh about such things. Now she smiled at how nature took the mighty brave and had him look down at a young boy's equipment that could not possibly satisfy a real grown woman. That evening they learned to work together. He found dried corn, acorns, late berries, wild onions, herbs, pine nuts and more savory leaves for the pot. She prepared all that, while he plucked a pheasant and just handed it to her to cut up and do with as she pleased. Tonight he tended the fire and heated the rocks. During the day while he was hunting, she had changed the back of the cave. She was nervous about how he would react when he found out. After dinner, it was already dark. They had tried to talk earlier. She believed tomorrow, he was taking her on a hunt to learn about the surrounding land. But tonight as she cleaned up from dinner, she timed her first move. His load of hot rocks were on their way to her bed when she guided him to his bed. She pulled away a blanket covering how she had extended the pit so her bed could be placed next to his and they could lay together. She could see the excitement and fear in his eyes. He did not acknowledge her efforts but prepared the larger bed, ignoring the pit area where she had slept last night. Again her own fears had caught up with his. Now she too was in uncharted waters. Was love, tenderness and beauty only a nice story. She had heard it was possible but she had never experienced it more than last night. All day she had thought and prepared for this time. She was excited and had been ready for him since noon. Last night could have been some craziness for both of them. When they actually had sex would he take her and use her and then cast her away? She thought of the quick times her legs were forced apart and one or two men dumped their semen in her. She thought of the quick times she was out gathering food and caught from behind, her skirt flipped up and a cock rammed into her before she was ready. These thoughts made her think she was foolish to prepare so much for Nat. After all he was a male. He could kill her and take another like her in an instant. She had seen it. She had help bury females, even pregnant ones, where their men had not wanted to be fathers. She turned her back to Nat and the tears of fear and the unknown flowed freely. He came to her. Tenderly wiped her tears and then gently, item by item he stripped her and let her stand nude by the fire until he stripped too. He reached out a hand and she took it. He pulled her to him and he kissed her, open mouthed with tongues, as she had taught him last night. His cock swelled, rock hard and bobbed tightly between her legs, against her wet, frightened more experienced pussy. Her mind raced with negative thoughts, when he backed toward the bed and slipped in holding the furs up for her to join him. For thirty minutes he kissed her, tasted her body and learned to tease every inch of her. Still her mind raced. Was something wrong with him that he did not take her, force her and be what she knew was manly. Her body betrayed her thoughts as he pulled her on top of his lust filed body that was aching for release. She had never been on top before. Instinctively, she reached for him and guided him into position. Only two inches entered her. She moaned in pain and pleasure as she was stretched, but the sound confused him. He waited. She thrust again and took another inch. That was fine but the next thrust hurt. He held her head and kissed her a hundred times and tried to pull out. Her hands grasped his hips. She could not explain why. She sat up a little over him. His eyes and face were contorted in such pleasure that she knew was from only her body. She rocked her clit against his cock and her body climbed the mountain. She felt him tense under her and she pushed down again. Her body stretched wider than it had ever done. She was wet and slippery but the stretching, almost pain, was what filled her mind. His fingers were in heaven playing with her breasts, teasing her nipples and strangely just naturally cupping her belly where babies grew. Quiet Girl thrust for her pleasure and Nat's body rose under her. It was not planned but when she thrust down, he thrust up. She screamed in pleasure and pain as she was stretched and penetrated like never before. In the height of her scream her orgasm began and she drove down again hard expecting to defeat him. Instead, he lifted her, flipped her and drove into her harder than before. Her orgasm extended, it would not stop. The sound of their bellies slapping together brought a cry of pleasure from her. She felt her womb open and his cock line up. He pulled almost out of her. His lips closed over hers. He whimpered and thrust violently. Again her climax extended and she knew his seed was pouring into her fertile body. Quiet Girl screamed in delight and completion for the first time into her man's mouth and he responded by pumping more of his maleness into her to claim her as his own. Her eyes would not stay open. She felt the warm, wet, slipperiness between them. It was not him it was not her. It was something new. It was them and the new life that they had created. She was asleep but she did not go to sleep when his cock slipped from her body. She was asleep but she had not gone to sleep when he turned her, spread her legs and took her from behind, depositing another load in her womb. She imagined her body sucking the seed from him and him struggling to live after satisfying her demand. The morning was cold and Quiet Girl felt Nat roll on top of her. She opened her legs for him and his cock slipped easily into her body through the combined juices of his body and hers. She liked the closeness and the warmth. That would have been enough but her womb wanted more. It began to suck and her hands guided his hips so his shaft slid across her clit. Every part of her wanted to be in control and feel his rigid manhood. Her outer lips were swollen and tingling. Her inner lips pushed into her body when he thrust and pulled out when he retreated. She guided and taught his hips to move, so her magic spot was pressed and massaged when he drove into her and her clit was ever present, being tortured with pleasure when he slid in and slid out. Nat's mouth closed over hers. Her lungs filled when he exhaled and gave him life when he inhaled. The words she did not know, but her body knew when he curled into her, driving deep and pulsing rope after rope of cum into her already full womb. Her pleasure could not be contained and she screamed into his mouth again and her body tried to suck the life out of his body through his cock. The cold cave seemed full of steam. The vapors that came from under the furs were full of the smell of freely flowing juices from combined mutual orgasm. Not of a woman, or a man, but a matched loving couple. Where each partner would do anything to please the other. The true beauty was that they were so young, so much in love and so matched that this moment would be repeated thousands more times in the future in strange unexpected places, for fifty years to make four sons and two daughters. The mountains echoed with Quiet Girl's screams of ecstasy all winter and the cave was often full of the panting steam from Nat's breath. Her belly began to grow. Her worries were unfounded. Nat was so happy with her, rubbing her belly, listening to the extra sounds and holding the swelling waiting to feel movement. In late spring, he sat about trekking down the mountain to find a small clan of Indians who would help with the birth. Every day he worried. He did not know when she was due or what to do. Quiet Girl was worried too. She had heard the screams of women but was not allowed to witness a birth. Nat and Quiet Girl were lucky. They happened on a small clan that had another English speaking trapper still with them. The first meetings went smoothly and the women agreed to help and guessed the time was two months away. The group moved often, climbing higher as the weather and food permitted. Nat was learning more Paiute than anyone else was learning his brand of English. The clan liked how this small man could out work and out hunt anyone else. How he doted on his wife and how he so wanted a son. Everything was fine and getting better until the group moved and camped with another for one evening. It was the group that had expelled Quiet Girl and the wiseman's son still lusted after her. Especially, now that she was so glowing, beautiful and fertile. His chosen bride was slender and not pregnant, even after the wiseman's offerings. The wiseman's son's name was Toulon and he was combative from the moment he saw Nat. Toulon announced to all ears, "She is my property, my slave and the baby in her is also mine." He was much bigger than Nat but he did not have the respect of the men. He did not work or hunt to the level expected of a leader. He did not act with honor. His father tried to cover for him and gain time for him to mature. Toulon knew the Paiute men would have to stand behind him, so he challenged Nat by slapping him and calling him a slave stealer. Toulon slapped Nat again and still Nat did not move. Quiet Girl stood to protect her man and Toulon turned on her and raised his hand. Nat was quick, took him down, struck him in the head with the butt of his knife and pointed to Quiet Girl to get behind him next to the horses. As Toulon stirred, Nat got him to his feet and held his skinning knife to Toulon's neck. Nat asked that "Eagle who sees all," Toulon's father, come talk to him in honor in exchange for the life of his son. "Eagle who sees all" was quick to arrive. Nat showed him respect as a wise elder, lowered his knife and turned away from Toulon. Toulon immediately grabbed a knife from another man and moved toward Nat's back. The hills echoed with his father's wrath filled voice, "Toulon!!!!!!!" Nat never turned around but went into the nearby bark and wood structure to await "Eagle who sees all." For an hour the two men met. With the aid of the other trapper, the two men respected each other and worked out a compromise. Quiet Girl had to listen to the harsh words but the rest of both clans knew the truth. The wiseman spoke, "Nat is a man of honor and treasures his son that he knows is growing in this slave's belly. Quiet Girl still does not know her place and, is of little worth because she will not serve. She does not cook, clean or please her man. Still he wants the son she carries. He realizes that this woman is Toulon's property and agrees to pay ten bear furs, ten beaver pelts and ten deer skins for her to bear his son and raise him until he is five. If Toulon still wants her then he can have her back in exchange for another young slave girl who has never born a child." All the members of both clans knew the negotiated terms were just Nat buying Quiet Girl to avoid any additional problems and letting both Toulon and his father seem dominate, gracious and in control. Nat showed the proper humbleness and it was acknowledged by "Eagle who sees all" and Toulon strutted and postured to show his superior position. Quiet Girl was seething inside but her years of beatings kept her looking at the ground, holding her belly to display her worth and accepting being a worthless non-Paiute slave. She was left standing to tend the horses, outside, while "Eagle who sees all" celebrated with Nat, their successful negotiation. Several of the women went to stand with Quiet Girl so Toulon would not go to her. That story spread throughout the Paiute clans and then to the Washoe. Nat was always welcome to visit, trade, hunt and even be part of their religious ceremonies. He had not chosen violence to claim Quiet Girl and his son, but no one ever doubted that he would have fought to the death for her. Still, for the rest of their lives together she would say that he did not fight for her, that she had to be with him because she was his slave; he had purchased her from Toulon, who was the handsome man who really wanted her. Those words always hurt him but it was the one way she could fight dirty when she was angry with him. The midwives sent him away because he worried so when she screamed as her body stretched to push out their first son. He was named "First Sunlight in the doorway" for where his father first saw him. Nat and Quiet Girl together brought all the other children into this world. The second a girl, "Howling Girl Wolf," for one evening he got Quiet Girl hotter and hotter, until her fear was defeated enough to follow him up the hillside. The wolves were howling at the moon. He had asked her, "Let's go up the hill, have wild sex and scare the wolves because you, called "Quiet Girl," make so much noise." Another girl "Babbling waters" got her name because Quiet Girl became pregnant while they played in on the warm slippery rocks where a stream flowed over them into a deep pool of water. A dozen ways they slid down the slippery rocks and splashed. She was screaming in orgasm and swallowed a lot of water laughing as half his load floated to the top of the rippling cold pond. The next three were boys. "Into the sun" was conceived somewhere along two hundred miles of a trip when Quiet Girl was horny all the time. She remembered how he complained that there was more to do than fuck all the time. She learned to doctor his sore cock with her lips so it would drive into her and satisfy the cravings of a woman of 32 summers. "Horse riding boy," was conceived as Quiet Girl sat on Nat's cock while the horse walked slowly around and around the coral until his balls emptied into her fertile womb. "Many furs" was made the night he and Quiet Girl christened the house he built for her, in front of the old cave where they had spent their first times together. For the months he labored, she called it her special anniversary gift. Quiet Girl had a hot and often out of control temper. Nat took her abuse and often just walked away for a few hours or went hunting and brought her a special pelt. One evening, he was cold, hungry and tired. He was about fourty-five summers. He was finishing logs for the final part of the roof and was exhausted. He wanted to quit for the day and go into the warm side of the cabin, she slapped him twice and made some reference that she could slap him like Toulon had done because he was a coward. He raped her. For hours he said he was sorry but Quiet Girl would not look at him. He left her in the furs, saying over and over how sorry he was and that he would stay away but watch over her for three months and then she could decide if she wanted to be with him anymore. He took his eldest son. Life was never the same again. Their best times were behind them now. He often tried to play and was usually rejected. He was sad. She seemed content in her quiet world, visiting children, grandchildren and relatives. When he was 72, she was 68. She took delight in her often harsh words. He had not been away from her side for three years and decided to go to a town to sell his furs during an annual festival for such things. Quiet Girl was angry. When he returned he had a cough and she would not open the presents he brought her. She claimed that he had brought some strange white man's illness to kill her or one of the children that visited. She insisted that he leave if he loved her. Six days later she went to look for him, found him dead, under a tree, holding one third of a quilt that he was hand sewing for her. She had wanted one for years with the wedding ring pattern. She lived for many more years; she always kept that piece of quilt nearby; she talked to it and slept with it every night.