Honovi's Tale

A story I wrote for a class about Native American history about a man who is betrayed by those he was trading with.

     “Breath Kai... good now count to three and slowly let your fingers slide from the string” Honvoi said, looking down at his son. He had been teaching the boy archery, but he was still too young and inexperienced to go on an actual hunt.

     Doing as he was told, Kai released the bowstring, sending the arrow into a nearby tree with a thud. They had carved circles into the tree to test how he could shoot. It hit the middle line, two away from the bulls-eye. He looked up at his father, his brow furrowed, questioning if he had done well.

Honovi smiled proudly and said, “an excellent shot little one... you'll make a great hunter some day.”

     Kai's face lit up with praise and he smiled widely, revealing several missing baby teeth. “You think I'll be as good as you some day, papa?” His dark brown eyes starred at his father, who was rubbing his chin as he feigned having to think about the question.

      “I don't know, are you willing to work hard?” His father asked, slowly.

      “Yes! I'll practice everyday!” Kai replied, with determination.

     “Well, if you do that... then I don't think you'll become as good a hunter as me son... I think you'll be better.”

      “You mean it?!”

      “I mean it,” he replied, looking down at the boy and putting a hand on his shoulder. “But for now, even great hunters like you need to eat... and I have to go meet with the white men.”

      “Can I come?! I wanna see them... Maka says they wear funny clothes, have magic sticks that kill people, and they smell funny.”

      “They don't smell funny little one...” Honovi laughed. Kai continued to stare at him with hope, “and no you can't come.”

      “Why not?! I've never seen a white man!”

      “Because, little one, it's too dangerous for a child.”

      “But...”

      “No 'buts' there are few of them that I trust,” Honovi said, truthfully. Since they had first discovered the white men walking through forest a couple of miles from the beach, he had a bad feeling about them. It wasn't that the disease they had brought killed his wife, after all not even she had blamed them, it was that something just seemed off about the meetings. As if they were hiding something.

      The village elders embraced them with friendship and gifts of food, which were returned with strange clothes, beads, or iron. From there a strained trade agreement had grown, and Honovi had been chosen to learn English and assist in the agreements. The white men seemed especially fond of the shiny yellowish rock that his tribe found in nearby caves, they had called it gold.

      “Fine...” Kai said, the tone of defeat clear in his voice.

      Once Honovi had made sure that Kai was home eating he left to find the rest of his group that would meet with the white men. They were at the edge of their camp and Honovi was the last to arrive. The other two men stood talking, Pakwa, the taller of the two was standing on the left, his braid hanging over his left shoulder, with his bow slung over his right. The other man, Tuwa was short by most standards, but he was still known for his ferocity with spears.

      Both men had proven themselves capable warriors, and the elders did not want to give the impression of weakness to the white men, especially when they had been hearing rumors of other tribes being wiped out.

      As Honovi approached, the two men noticed him. “Good you made it, we were starting to think you had gotten caught in the wind...” Pakwa joked.

      “I was with my son, practicing with his bow. Next time you should join Pakwa, my son can show you how to actually hit the target...” Honovi retorted with a slight smile.

      Tuwa nodded and said, in his characteristically deep voice, “Honovi... good to see you.”

     “And you.” Honovi said, ignoring the remarks Pakwa was making.

      Once their greeting had concluded, the group made their way towards the hill where the white men would be waiting. They took the final steps to the top and found the white men, but something was different about them this meeting. The white men only had half of the supplies that they normally did. After exchanging looks with his companions Honovi asked, “Why do you bring us less to trade? Do you want to trade for less today?”

      “No, we need to change the deal,” The man standing in the middle said. He had brown hair that showed slightly under the black hat he wore. He was pudgy and he always sounded as if he was speaking to something lesser than himself. Honovi hated the man.

      “We can't alter the deal, it is near harvest season, and we need the tools you give us to aid in crop this year, without them it won't bountiful because of the drought.”

      “Yes, well, we're sorry but it's either change the amount of gold that the tools cost... or this meeting is over.”

      “Then it's over,” Honovi said, gesturing towards Tuwa and Pakwa.

      “Don't do anything you'll regret, Honovi!” the pudgy man said, his face shaking and growing red with anger.

      “I won't.” Honovi said flatly, ignoring the threat. He knew the white men well enough by now to know that they wouldn't attack if you sounded confident and looked dangerous. So that was exactly what he was going to do.

      They left the white men, going back to their camp and telling of the white man's attempt at changing the deal. Honovi assured all who were concerned that the white men liked the gold too much to simply stop trading, it would be a matter of days before things were back to normal.

That night, he sat with Kai, telling him stories until the boy fell asleep. He kissed his forehead and whispered, “may the good spirits guide your sleep, my son.”

      He walked outside of his tipi and sat, starring up at the sky as he contemplated the decisions of the day. Did I do the right thing? He wondered. He couldn't let the white men simply push and keep taking more from them, it had been the fifth time that they had tried to increase the gold from the trades.

      Suddenly, he was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud banging sound nearby. A few months ago, he would have thought it was thunder, but after the encounters he had had with white men, he knew that it could only have been one thing; a gunshot. He put his head inside his tipi and said, to Kai, who was just waking up, “stay inside! Get your bow and if you see someone that isn't from our tribe come in shoot them, do you understand?!”

      “Father, what's...” Kai began.

      He was interrupted by his father repeating, “do you understand?!” though it was louder this time.

      “Yes,” his son said weakly. He stood to get his bow.

      “Good, I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you, Kai,” he said crossing the room and hugging his son.

      “I love you too, father,” Kai said, returning the hug.

      Honovi left, feeling fear and anger, the fear however, was not for himself entering the battle, but for his son being drawn into it. More shots began filling the nights as did an increasing screaming of those scarred or hit by the hidden onslaught. He ran towards the outskirts trying to see any of the white men that were firing at them. He looked towards the flashes in light that marked their firing and realized that they were great in number. Pakwa and Tuwa ran towards him both crouched and looking from side to side for the enemies.

      “Shoot for the flashes,” Honovi said, knocking an arrow to his bow. He waited for the next flash. When it happened, he was ready and fired an arrow immediately after, it was too dark to see if he had hit anything. They continued this strategy for several minutes, but the gunshots only grew closer, and the screams only grew louder.

       Tuwa suddenly shot back off his feet and landed on his back a few feet away as he was struck with one of the shots. “No!” both of the other men shouted in unison. They backed towards his fallen silhouette, not daring to cease firing their bows. Honovi looked down at Tuwa for a moment before snapping his head back up and continuing fire. His heart sunk at the sight, the man on the ground had a large hole in his torso and seemed to have died without so much as the ability to speak last words.

      A few moments later the gunshots had moved close enough to see, even in the dark. At this point there were seven of them each aiming their gun at the two men. Honovi shot his bow again killing one of the men on the far left as they converged. In retaliation all guns turned towards him, he had begun to move immediately after his shot fired, but he wasn't quick enough. He felt his leg and shoulder begin to burn as he was knocked from his feet from the force of the bullets.

      “Pakwa! Take my son and run... you must save him!” he pleaded.

      “I won't leave you Honovi, we must defend our homes and people!” Pakwa yelled as he continued to fire his arrows. He was beginning to run out.

     “Please! He must be saved!”

      “Fine. I'll take the boy, but I promise you old friend, I will make the white men pay,” Pakwa said beginning to make his way towards Honovi's tent.

      Honovi sat, watching as the gunmen closed in on him, thinking they would fire at any moment. “Don't just sit there, men! Don't let that one escape,” said a familiar voice. As he moved closer, Honovi realized it belonged to the pudgy white man from the meeting. The man he was talking about gunning down was Pakwa, and he already had Kai in his arms and was sprinting toward the treeline.

      “Nooo!” Honovi screamed, as the men all shot at Pakwa. He watched as a bullet pierced through Pakwa's back and the two crumpled to the ground.

      He stared in complete horror and disbelief at the scene in front of him. Kai, please. You can't be gone, he thought. His world had come crashing down upon his head in mere hours because of the white men. His tribe had been killed by them, his home had been destroyed by them, his wife had been made sick by them, and now... now they had taken the one thing he had left, his son.

      Suddenly hope began to claw at the walls of despair that had erected in his mind. He saw from his viewpoint on the ground, a small figure rustling from the larger shape. It crawled away and began moving towards the treeline, low enough that no one on their feet would have seen them. It was Kai. Honovi's joy made him forget his pain and rejoice, his son's life would be a hard one... but the important thing is he would have a chance to live it. He smiled and looked up at the pudgy man, right up the barrel of his gun.

      “I told you, you'd regret this, savage.” the man snarled, no hint of remorse crossing his face.

      “I don't,” Honovi replied, ready for what was to come. Just then an arrow came from the left side of the men, killing one of them. Two of the remaining white men turned and shot the archer. The distraction was just enough for Honovi to raise his bow and fire one shot into the pudgy man's heart before the guns turned on him. He smiled, thinking, Kai has a chance as the resounding bangs of the remaining guns cracked through the night, leaving naught but silence in their wake.

Author's Note

Definitely not the final draft, there are a couple of points where I skipped some stuff by just telling what happened rather than showing, but I only have ten minutes of reading time so that's why, it will be fixed once I have more time for editing. Any opinions welcome.