differences, made his way through the woods toward the creek stopping often to tip the jug. The further he walked, the dizzier he became. When he had almost reached the creek, weary and a lot drunk, he sat down to catch his breathe.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, floated sounds of women talking, laughing, and squealing.
Jake being drunk and confused, thought that his “spirits” were working on his mind.
“Hell, this stuff must be killin’ me,” he mumbled.
But the sounds continued and they were coming from the direction of the creek.
“I’m going to go down there and see what’s going on, and if’n I am crazy, I’m just crazy,” Jake said, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t hallucinating.
He dropped to his knees and crawled across the soft, leaf-covered ground as quietly as a bobcat stalking its prey, still dragging his precious jug of spirits behind him. Finally reaching the high creek bank above his favorite swimming hole, he peered down on a scene he thought must have been heaven sent.
There were four beautiful Choctaw women swimming and playing in the stream and enjoying every moment as they splashed the cold creek water on each other. They wore no clothing, at least from their waists up.
Jake lay still, admiring the group, especially one of them. She resembled the others, but her complexion was lighter and she appeared to be taller.
“Damn! This is sump’n,” thought Jake. “I can’t believe what my pore eyes are seein’. I wish they would get out of the water so I can get a better look. Damn, this is sump’n.”
As the afternoon passed, the women seemed to be in no hurry and Jake became impatient.
“Well, if they ain’t gettin’ out, then I’ll just route them out,” reasoned Jake. “I’m going to strip down, take a few more swigs of brew to get my conf’dence up, and I’m going to leap off this high bank and splash them out of there. All f m going to see is women’s butts runnin’ up that creek banks on the other side.”
Jake quietly stripped off his clothes, took several big gulps and lay his jug on the ground. He then backed off to get a running start. With one giant leap he was on his way through the air and headed directly toward the middle of the Indian women. When Jake hit the water, it sounded like a huge boulder striking, a sound so loud it could be heard all through the creek bottom.
No sooner had Jake submerged, than his head popped up as he expected to see nude Choctaw bodies scrambling up the creek banks terrified at the unexpected guest who, one could say, dropped in on them.
But to Jake’s surprise, the Indians had simply lowered themselves into the water with only their heads exposed, and were just calmly staring at him. After a few moments, they began to talk to one another. No one moved.
Suddenly, the women looked up toward the top of the creek banks, and Jake sensed company had arrived and he knew it wasn’t Lott. He slowly turned around and was horrified at the sight. Standing on both sides of the creek banks were at least fifteen Choctaw men, weapons in hand, staring down at him. Some had spears, others had bows and arrows, and two had some kind of strange club.
Jake prayed to himself, “Dear Lord, this is it. I sure didn’t mean no harm to them women, and I never called yore name in vain. Have mercy on my soul. Amen and amen.”
Feeling his time was over, he began to talk and pray out loud, “Lord Jesus, forgive me of my sins, and Lord don’t hold it against these here savages for killin’ me. I probably deserves it.”
Suddenly, one of the men interrupted Jake’s prayer. “Oka akocha! Tunshpa!” [Get out of the water! Quickly!]
The women hurriedly emerged from the water and gathered their clothing from a big boulder near the edge. In a matter of seconds, they vanished into the woods. To Jake’s disappointment, they had been clothed from the waist down.
Looking closer, Jake recognized the Choctaw who was giving the orders as the same one he had encountered before. He remembered the scar.
The tall Choctaw pointed to Jake and spoke to the others. “Katima hon nahullo kmat minti. [Where did this white man come from.] Im anukfilit iksho [I think he is crazy.] Homa Chitto kat nata katimi [Something is wrong with Big Red] Imakfili ikono, kano hon hotupa la he keyo [He acts crazy, but does not seem to want to hurt anyone]. Chihowa im alia isht anumpali [He also talks of Jesus] Okla hasha takmalini [We will leave him alone]. Chukaia Homa Chitto [Go home, Big Red]!”
Jake did not understand, but one thing was clear: they pointed at him and then in the direction of his house.
Jake gathered his courage, “I think what you fellows are tellin’ me is, to get the hell out of here. Ain’t that right?” Jake said, not expecting a reply.
“Right,” the Choctaw said, to Jake’s surprise. “Get hell out. Stay away from women.”
They turned and walked away leaving Jake alone and naked in the cool creek water.
He wasted no time getting up the creek banks to retrieve his clothes and check on the jug. But to his surprise, all he found were his boots and socks. The Choctaws had taken everything else.
“Damn! Damn you savages! You stole my clothes and took my jug. You sons of bitches! You might as well have killed me!”
Jake headed toward home after pulling on his socks and boots. “How am I going to explain this to Lott?” he thought. “He’ll laugh at me for the rest of my life.”
Back at the house, Lott had finished designing a plan for the barn and sat on the front porch steps enjoying the end of a hot summer day. Cool evening breezes ruffled the leaves at the tops of the trees in front of the house, and afternoon shadows were creeping across the front yard.
“Jake should’ve been home long ‘fore now,” thought Lott. “I think I’ll saddle up and go check on him.”
He realized that, for the first time, he was worried about the safety of his brother and also that he had become selfishly dependent on Jake. If anything happened, how could he continue to build their dream? Worst still, he would lose his best friend.
Lott headed for the horses, but something moving in the woods caught his attention, darting from tree to tree and working its way toward the house.
“Somebody or sump’n is up to no good,” thought Lott. “It could be an Indian or a trader trying to jump me. I wish Jake was here.”
Lott returned to the house, eased down the hall and gently picked up his rifle, powder, and shot and quietly crept down the back steps. He would work his way through the woods and come up behind whoever or whatever was approaching the house.
He quickly moved through the forest and was soon in a position to challenge whatever was in front of him. Something moved again, and even though it was almost dark, he could tell that it was human. Lott took several bold steps and leveled his rifle.
“Stop just where you are. If you move an inch, you’ll have a hole in ya big enough to see through.”
Crouched in front of him, naked as could be, except for his boots, was his one and only brother trying to cover his private parts with his hands. His face was as red as his hair.
“Jake!
