The Fall of 1643

Part one of "The Fall of 1643"

It was a fall day on August 26, 1643. I was walking through the forest looking for something to eat. My name is Isabelle Roberts, I came to America three years ago when I was twelve with my father, after my mother died of the fever. My thoughts wandered all I walked, I was thinking about Pamana, my Indian friend. I hadn't seen her I a couple of days because the Indian war chief didn't want anyone who was not an Indian around after one of the French killed a warrior. Again my mind trailed off, I heard something but didn't pay attention to it until it was to late. I fell to the ground as an arrow struck me in the calf. An Iroquoi Indian stepped from behind the bush and walked towards me. I tried moving but it oy made the pain worse. The Iroquoi shouted something in his language, I said," I'm sorry, but I can't understand you." His stout face turned to anger as he replied in a stern voice," My name is Nahoation, do not speak unless you are spoken to." I nodded in agreement. He whistled and two other Indians appeared from behind the same bush, they started to pick me up, but I fought back. That was the last thing I remember before being hit in the head. I woke up to the sound of dancing and shouting. My head throbbed, I tried to stand but I fell back to the ground. I noticed that the arrow had been taken out of my leg and my hands were bound tightly behind me around a pole. The whole tribe apparently was having some kind of ritual. I heard something coming through the brush, to loud be a person, and that's when I saw it, a bear. I shouted for help as it came closer, and when the bear got on it's hind legs, four warriors drew their bows and shot the bear simultaneously, I breathed a sigh of relief when it hit the ground. After that, my head was swimming, I tried to deal with the pain, but I ended up passing out. When I woke up it was about noon. My head felt a little better but it still made me double over in pain. The rest of the day went by in a haze of memories and frightening thoughts. That night they had another ritual around the huge fire, and again I heard something. It was a very faint noise, almost silent. When I saw her face, I knew exactly who it was, Pamana.

Author's Note

This is my first historical fiction story, hope you like it! If you have any suggestions or comments please review. Thanks :)