Chapter 1

Luta Netdahe (Red Death)

alias: Eutah Red:

No man alive knows exactly what it was that set him off, but the young renegade Indian who would later take the name of Eutah Red – raped, killed, burned and tortured settlers of the western plains seemingly for the pleasure of it. Born the son of a renegade Blackfoot warrior and his Apache slave, Eutah proved that one lone Indian could cause the horror from which nightmares are born.

Though Red Death was thought to be long ago dead, Raymond and Laura Belle Leatherwood, find him living on the mysterious, Diablo Ponedero Rancho near a small border town in Texas when they arrive from Pennsylvania.

Out of respect for his notorious reputation, the bounty on his head, and the fear for their own lives otherwise – his friends called him by his new name, Eutah.

When Eutah was ten years old, he bore witness the pillage and plunder of his Blackfoot village by the horse soldiers dressed in blue. He was left for dead as they rode off, leaving the raped, dead and dying bleeding in the dirt.

Blood ran between the teepees like rainwater in a summer storm.

Though Eutah had a bullet hole through his chest and a saber wound in his side, miraculously, his body healed. Crawling inch by inch, he made his way into the mountains to reach the magic hot springs where he packed his wounds with moss and molten hot, red earth to restore his soul and stave off the recurring ghosts that came at him, beckoning him to step away from a life of pain and sorrow, to a spirit world of eternal peace.

His heart and his mind never healed, and until this day, the memories of seeing the rape, slaughter and butchering of his mother and two sisters at the hands of the horse soldiers still haunt him. His screams of horror and pain could be heard echoing in the canyons as the soldiers of death come upon him in the night each time he dared close his eyes in exhaustion. He never overcame them, they were always with him. To this day, the demons lurk behind his closed eyelids, beckoning his return to the horrible death they had planned for him, where no man escapes.

By the time he was thirteen, his body had completely healed, though he carried the scars of death from the wounds inflicted upon him years before. He carried the scars of a lifetime in his heart and in his mind. He carried the hate of a generation with him as he made his final walk down from the hills where he had crawled to the valley of the magic springs for the healing of his body and his scarred soul.

When he was fifteen, he was more than a man. Not having a horse, he ran for miles and miles each day to plunder settlements and homesteads. He was tall and lean and his skin was red, just as the red earth beneath his feet. He was a tortured soul seeking relief from the demons of hell. He killed and maimed, offering sacrifice to the soldiers of death who came each night as his eyes closed. Yet no hideous deed he offered, appeased them.

He had just yesterday tracked a single wagon which had been left behind by the long wagon train headed west. He had followed the tracks of the wagon many miles before he smelled the smoke of a campfire near a distant stream. The night was slowly covering the hills with shadows as he stalked the camp. Without a weapon of any sort, he crept closer and closer until he could make out the shapes of a man and woman squatting by the fire. Suddenly, into the glow of the fire, there were two tall, slender figures running from between the two wagons. Both wore long, loose sleep dresses and both had long yellow hair down their backs as they ran and laughed and played next to the family campfire.

Using the skills taught him long ago by his now dead father, he squatted on his haunches and tossed a small stone into the dark, near a wagon wheel. He knew if there was a dog, this would bring him up from his slumber to sniff out whatever made the sounds.

After more small pebbles were tossed to other parts of the camp, Eutah knew there was no dog. He saw the man and woman when they entered the wagon, early on. He saw their shadows against the canvas-cover made by the lamp before the flame flickered and died. He had seen the woman strip her dress over her head and watched her naked silhouette step over to where the man sat with his arms raised for her. Just as he knew they were about to mate, the woman snuffed the flame into darkness. He heard their mumbles and whispers in the dark.

Eutah knew the two look-a-like girls were asleep under the first wagon. He crept closer and peered down at them through the wooden spokes of the front wagon wheel. He could see the fluttering of their eyelids as they slept. He could see the soft, clean, peaceful features of their faces as they slept unaware and unafraid. Slowly, Eutah reached his hand through the spokes and pulled the blanket from both girls. He could see the deep swell of their young breasts under their worn and threadbare sleep dresses. He rolled the blanket further down to see their bare legs where they had kicked the hem of their sleep dresses up over their knees.

One girl was facing away, with her back to him. The other girl was facing him. The one facing him had rucked her sleep dress up over her hips and her naked body lay exposed in the dim shadows of the flickering, fading campfire.

Eutah looked at the milky white skin of her upper thighs exposed to him and felt his loins stir with the urges of manhood.

He had watched his own father and mother mate many times in the close quarters of their tipi. His father was a proud man, knowing his cock was as large as any man in the camp. He was always eager to throw the covers off the sleep mat and mate with Eutah’s mother in the red glow from the smoldering coals of the lodge fire. Eutah would prop his chin on his hands and watch with pride as his father mated his mother like a wild stallion rutting among the mares.

Eutah could never forget the memory of his own mother being stripped naked, mounted, mauled, raped and butchered by numerous horse soldiers after they had walked among the captured and tethered men, killing them all.

Those horror-filled memories of the pain came back to haunt him even years after the death of his family.

Though the hurt was always there, as it was now, he looked upon the naked loins of the white man’s daughters and his urges grew into a rage as his young cock stirred to its own man-size fullness.

With a small stick, Eutah hooked the tail of the other sister’s sleep dress and lifted it to expose her pure white buttocks. As he squatted on his haunches, his cock bloated to a size that could no longer be ignored.

Slipping past the wagon wheel, as silent as the smoke rising from the dying fire, Eutah lifted his breech-clout and lay on his side. The swollen glans of his cock was no more than three inches from the young girl’s naked buttocks as he fisted his meat in the manner he had been shown early in life by the older boys in the camp.

As he stroked his cock, the young girl stirred in her sleep and shifted her leg to expose her mating split. Eutah’s young cock reared in his fist with eagerness and excitement as he looked at the sight of the girls pure nakedness.

He reached his release with his young cock slickened by his secretions, his fist flying up and down the length of his warrior’s lance. The first glob of his cock-seed arced over her fleshy buttocks and plopped right in the middle of her sister’s nest of hair covering her loins. This caused Eutah to become even more urgent as he stroked many more splattering globs of his cock-seed across both girls. The sister facing him had rucked her sleep dress up over her breasts and now caught two healthy globs across one of her tender nipples where it drooled and fell to her other nipple, slowly dribbling onto her sleep dress.

As the force of the spurting globs of cock-seed weakened, he saw many of them land between the mysterious split of the nearest girl’s buttocks and stick to her skin.

With his raging cock now satisfied, Eutah rolled away from the sleeping sisters and knelt by the wagon as he covered his cock with his breech-clout once more. Crouching – ever watchful for movement, he made his way to the warm bed of coals at the campfire. Careful not to make a sound, he lifted the heavy lids of the cook pots and found bread and meat. Raking up a handful of the warm greasy meat with one hand, he took two thick pieces of bread from another pot. After covering the pots, he held his greasy food and his bread to his naked chest as he softly, silently swept his tracks from the dry dirt with a small leaf cluster.

Hunkering down a few feet from the wagon where the sisters slept, Eutah ate the food of the white man and smiled as the taste was pleasing, though different.

He saw the girl facing him reach her hand up to caress her young breast, then with her hand moving in circular motions, she smeared his cock-seed over her young breasts. All the while she did this, her lower body was moving forward, in an undulating, mating movement. She lowered her hand and clasped it over her mating split, smearing and fondling her nest of yellow hair, pulling aside the curls to smear his cock seed into the inner folds of her young split.

Her slow, lazy movements during her deep sleep aroused Eutah to another, extremely pleasurable stirring in his loins. He was tempted to slip close once again and spray the sleeping sisters with the seed of his cock. He knew the light of dawn would soon creep across the plains, and daylight would expose him as an intruder in their camp.

Thinking quickly, he moved away from the camp and slipped around to where their team of horses were tied, still in full harness. He was tempted to score the tendons of their hind legs, crippling them so they couldn’t pull a wagon.

Having been taught to never harm an animal of burden, he loosened the leads that kept them tied to the wagon wheel and mounted one horse to lead the other three away in the early dawn of morning.

Once he was away from the camp, he rode the horses hard for miles toward the wide, wildly splashing, white-water river in the distance. He swam the horses across the river and took the rope halters from their heads, spanking them with the ropes as he ran after them, chasing the horses down a trail into the valley below as their harness chains dragged and rattled on the ground.

Eutah was in no hurry to return to the white man’s camp. He knew the white people would be there, or close by. They had wandered off the main trail and had camped alone for the night.

Now they were without horses.

A man without a horse was lost and defenseless. A family without horses was at the mercy of dangerous predators which were sure to come their way.

Eutah swam the river and walked slowly back toward the white man’s camp, ever watchful for the man. He knew the man would be searching for his horses, they were his life here on the prairie, without them, his family would surely perish.

Before mid-day, he saw the man as he tracked the horses. He watched as the man started up the rocky slope where Eutah had ridden the horses to lose anyone who trailed them. He hunkered down and waited, watching the man walk across the rocky slope, back and forth, up and down, looking for sign.

The man carried a big knife and a handgun on his side. Eutah wondered if the girls’ family had guns to defend the camp while their man was gone. Surely no man would leave his family defenseless and go off for hours alone.

Eutah sat on his perch above the man and looked down upon him until the man finally gave up and started back toward his camp. The man was walking in a direction that would take him past the camp, not toward it.

He watched the man slip on the loose rocks and slide down the slope, scraping his hands on the sharp stones as he tried to break his fall. As the man slid down the slope, the bigger rocks broke loose and slid down with him, rolling over him. Near the bottom, he stood and tried to walk, but his right leg gave way and he fell back to the small, sharp rocks once more.

Like a vulture waiting for an animal to die, Eutah watched his prey stumble and stagger, slowly making his way back toward the camp. The man found a dried limb and used it as a crutch, stumbling his way closer and closer to camp.

Staying above the crippled white man, Eutah kept within a few yards of him the entire way until the white man reached his camp.

From his vantage above the camp, he watched as the man staggered to the wagons. He was quickly surrounded by his woman and daughters as they helped him over near a wagon to sit. He saw the man waving his hands and talking loudly, almost as if he were speaking with anger as he talked. The girls were the first to walk away, leaving him to speak in a rage as if blaming them for the horses escaping from camp.

His woman was next to walk away. She turned twice and shook her finger back at him, yelling white man words at him before she walked over to the girls where they huddled with arms around each other. When darkness fell upon the camp, the woman and the girls tried to help the man into the wagon. He couldn’t lift his leg and kept falling back to the ground, screaming in pain.

By the light of the fire and two lanterns, Eutah watched as the woman cut away the man’s breeches leg to expose a swollen and badly bruised leg with the jagged end of a bone exposed. When the woman tried to lift him to his feet once more, the man brushed her aside with the sweep of his arm, knocking her against the wagon wheel.

During the night, Eutah was awakened by the screaming and cursing of white man words. He rose up from his bed between two warm stones and saw the outline of the white man as he staggered naked toward his wagon. His leg was black and swollen from his ankle to his hip, and he hobbled to the end of the wagon where his woman slept.