White Feather and Dawn Rain faced each other across the small glade. They knelt on the soft moss covered ground waiting. It was very late and very dark. Neither woman could see her rival, yet still they locked eyes. Neither woman could see Charging Bear, but if they listened closely they could hear him breathing. He waited near the edge of the clearing as dictated by custom. He would not enter the clearing until one of the women had clearly defeated her rival.
For as long as anybody in the tribe could remember the Ghost people had a problem. They had always had many more squaws than braves. Some of it was due to wars with other tribes. Some was due to occasional hunting accidents. But the bulk of numbers had always been due to births. They simply had 2 squaws born for every brave. By the time they reached adulthood, the imbalance envitably got worse approaching 4 squaws for every brave that was worth having. The tribe solved this delima with polygamy. Every brave was expected to have as many wives as his hunting skills could support.
But this created a new problem. Jealousy. Squaws just were not content to share their braves. Fights erupted. The social structure of the tribe broke down. So the elders created the rite of the moon. Squaws were given an order. The lowest squaw would have to take orders from a higher squaw. The first or top squaw decided when the lower squaws would have access to their brave. If a squaw didn't like her position in a braves tent, she could challenge the next higher squaw for her position in the rite of the moon. At the birth of the full moon, their brave took them to a secluded location. As the moon rose into the sky the Brave would give the command and the squaws would fight. If the moon set before one surrendered, it was considered a tie and their positions remained unchanged. If there was a victor, she took the higher position and the looser took the lower. In addition the winner would get the brave for the night. For some of the lower squaws in the tribe it was the only chance they would get to be alone with their brave.
Charging Bear was an especially good hunter. And a handsome brave. He had selected 6 squaws so far. And many others in the tribe wished to join them. Charging Bear only picked the most beautiful Squaws. White Feather had been his first squaw. He had picked her 7 summers ago. She was strong and beautiful. She stood eight and one half hands tall. She was slender with large full breasts, perfect for feeding their 3 sons. All his squaws had full breasts. Between all his squaws, Charging Bear had a total of 5 sons and 3 daughters, part of the reason he was so desired by the village squaws. Having a son was a position of honor among the Ghost people. It showed that the squaw was favored by the spirits. And Charging Bear's squaws were apparently more blessed than any others in the tribe. Particularly White Feather. White Feather had been his first squaw the majority of the time since she was first selected by Charging Bear. She was kind hearted and wise. She often shared Charging Bear with the other squaws without the ritual. She shared in the work too. In some ways it was kindness and in others it was intelligence. If the other squaws were happy with their place in the order, they wouldn't challenge White Feather for leadership. In 7 summers, she had only been challenged 9 times. And she had only lost once, regaining her position the very next moon. Some lead squaws were challenged every month. But not White Feather.
In many ways, Charging Bear was disappointed. He liked to see his squaws fight. It was the reason he selected White Feather. Before they were joined, she had many fights and was well known in the tribe for her fierceness toward other squaws. She was fearless. She had never backed down from another squaw. He had thought that selecting her would result in endless battles. Instead, under her strong leadership he had fewer fights than most braves. All his squaws were content with their place. There was an ongoing battle for the third position, but even that had occured only a dozen times in four winters. And even those fights had not been necessary. Leaping Fawn and Singing Stream just happened to hate each other and took advantage of the ritual to vent their frustration.
It was for that reason he had selected Dawn Rain as his latest Squaw. In many ways, she was like a younger White Feather. She was only slightly shorter and just as busty. She was equally beautiful. She had often fought other Squaws and was known for her ferocity. And she hated White Feather. The two had come to blows several times before Dawn Rains coupling with Charging Bear. Fights were forbidden between coupled squaws outside the moon ritual within the family. But they were still common in the tribe between all squaws. Especially those who had not yet been selected for coupling and those that had. There simply was a lot of jealousy between the chosen and unchosen. Before Dawn Rain was even of coupling age she had fought White Feather twice. Of course White Feather had easily beaten her each time. It was a fight between a Woman and a Girl. Charging Bear had hoped now that Dawn Rain was a woman, the outcome might be more even between the two.
Unfortunately for Charging Bear, on the night of their coupling, Dawn Rain had become pregnant again denying Charging Bear the pleasure of seeing his squaws fight as fighting while pregnant was strictly forbidden. But since the birth of his fourth son to her, Dawn Rain had more than made up for it, fighting a different squaw for her position each moon moving up the ranks. The battles had been epic. None of his squaws had liked Dawn Rain and each had been determined to defeat her. Charging Bear smiled in the darkness remembering each of Dawn Rain's fights. None of the battles had ended quickly. A couple had almost gone the entire path of the moon in the valley. But each had ended with Dawn Rain atop of a sobbing surrendering squaw. One after another they had fallen until this moon she was ready to face White Feather. Now they knealt in the darkness facing each other ready to begin their battle to be first among Charging Bear's Squaws. Even with his excellant night vision, it was too dark to see them, but he could hear them breathing, softly, calmly, quietly. Both squaw's were looking forward to this fight. They were both calm, confident that she would be victorious over her hated rival. They had been both been waiting for this moment since Charging Bear had chosen Dawn Rain. Waiting for it and looking forward to it.
As the moon began to rise to even a dim glow cries went up throughout the valley as squaw attacked squaw. "Papooses," thought Charging Bear of the other warriors who had so prematurely given their squaws the command to fight. They could not even see the women yet to properly enjoy the battle. At this moment even Charging Bear could bearly see his squaws kneeling facing each other barely 3 paces between them. The wore only loin cloth's, the traditional dress of the moon ceremony. The cermonial garb was brightly decorated, but you couldn't tell in the darkness. Charging bear never understood why the Squaws so carefully decorated their fight cloths. Even on the brightest night you couldn't really see the colors. And so often even the cloths were destroyed in the fights. So why decorate them... Squaws... as many as he had, Charging Bear was certain he would never fully understand them.
The moon continued to rise brightening the dark glade. The distant sounds of battle continued all around them. Already to their west, Charging Bear could hear the sobbing surrender of one of the squaws. He wasn't certain, but he thought it was Strong Bow's squaws. Strong Bow liked his squaws big and fat. He had three. And they hated each other. Hardly a cycle of the moon passed in his tent without a fight. But their fights never lasted very long. The large women were very strong but didn't have much endurance. They did enormous damage to each other very quickly. Once the scales tipped in the fights, they tipped very quickly.
Thinking of the women fighting in the distance arroused Charging Bear. As was tradition, he was naked in the darkness awaiting the victor of the ritual. He wondered if they could see his erect warrior's spear in the darkness? He doubted it. They were so focused on each other at the moment, he doubted they could see anything except their rival through the fog of hatred. The moonlight rested gently upon their smooth skin. It was still too dark to truely see them, but he could barely make out each woman's erect nipples stretching toward her rival. It was obvious both women were excited by the prospect of fighting. But he doubted either of them wanted to fight as much as he wanted to see them fight.
The sounds in the valley had begun to change. The more patient braves had begun to allow their squaws to fight and their eager screams joined in with the sobs and grunts from battles futher along in their course. In addition the sounds of love making could now be clearly heard. Victorious squaws were always more vocal on this night. It was a strange announcement to the world of her victory as well as a way to rub salt in the wounds of her defeated rival a few feet away. With all the din around them, Charging Bear, could hear his Squaws breathing pick up a bit, see the eagerness as their perfect moonlit breasts rose and fell more quickly. They could hardly wait. And finally, Charging Bear could wait no longer either. So softly it was almost a whisper he said "You may begin." With a war cry both Squaws were instantly on their feet charging at their rival.