The Trenton Expedition of 1844

Hello you naughty girls and boys!

Lucky for you I have access to mortal memories. Thus I can bring to you such lost tales as the one I offer here and now. Read on.

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Chapter 1

There was some kind of rumbling noise, and my head ached as though I had been on a serious bender. When I pried my eyes open, at first all I could see was a wash of white light. It took a few seconds for my vision to clear, allowing me to focus on my surroundings. My vision was still a little fuzzy and I felt dizzy. However one thing had not escaped my attention; I was inside a bamboo cage.

The small cage was wedged between some rocks and earth and was covered with cloth leaving me only one side to see out of, save for a small sliver of sight off to my left. But my view, limited as it was, told me much. It supplied me with answers but also raised many more questions.

It was daylight, though difficult to place the hour. The jungle canopy above provided good shade to the structures and people below. I was in some native village surrounded by huts. Their walls were round, comprised of upright branches and small logs, the spaces and cracks between them filled with mud. The roof was a wide cone made of reeds and grasses lashed together.

One of these huts was to the left of my cage and blocked most of my vision on that side. There was an angled path in front of me running from my left to my right as it moved further away and toward what I presumed to be the village center.

I could not name the tribe and indeed we hadn't expected to find one for several more days if not weeks, but I could hear the speech of African natives, women, moving about at a short distance from me. I could not place the dialect and wished Farnsworth was next to me so I could inquire of him.

And now I wondered how much deeper into the dense jungle I was and how many of my expedition may be nearby, perhaps in similar cages. Another thought in the pit of my stomach was how many of them may have survived.

My surroundings made it clear that something horrible had happened but as I tried to recall the events that brought me to this state it only made my head hurt worse. I remembered setting out from the small town of Oxton, but that was weeks ago. I couldn't hold onto it, but I had a small of flash of us cutting a trail, I behind Higginsby, when someone began shouting. But then it all went dark and my head was pounding as I tried to recall anything else.

Then the voices I heard were coming closer. In a matter of seconds I saw the first women pass in front of me; maybe a half-dozen paces away. They were moving past me and away from me, perhaps to cook meals for supper.

Having now seen some of my captors I was rather surprised by their appearance. I didn't expect any of the savages to be properly dressed but they were even more naked than any I had seen or heard of. They wore various bands around their ankles, wrists, legs, and arms, all made from various vegetation and beads of bone, clay, or wood but aside from that they were truly quite naked.

But it wasn't just about what they were wearing, or not wearing. Their skin was a dark brown but not the coal black of some peoples on the continent, and of course such coloration was no surprise. However these were not thin skinny girls, and one certainly could not produce evidence that they were in any way malnourished.

No in fact they were big girls, as in taller and broader in the shoulders than the petite beauties of home. And they were big in other ways as well. As they walked past, the angle of my cage to the path meant I had a good view of their backsides, and those were, well...big. Their buttocks were not covered in any way and stood out from their lower back. They were large and well rounded and I viewed them with some fascination.

While similar in size and shape, each pair was unique. Some would jiggle; some wobble. Some shook at a quick pace while others had a deeper rhythm. From the way the dark flesh moved I could sense how smooth they would be to the touch and how the flesh might yield to the squeeze of a hand.

Further up the path and near the end of my vision the group stopped and as several turned around I made other discoveries. It was well documented that many of the heathen women did not cover their own mammaries. This was certainly the case here. But once again all signs were of healthy, and I must say well-endowed individuals. I dare say each one of them could embarrass any nursemaids back home.

Like the bare buttocks I had witnessed moments ago, each pair of heathen breasts shared similarities while retaining a unique character. The nipples tended to be darker than the surrounding teat, but the shading was varied. Also the nipples themselves could be large flat, saucers which hung at the bottom of the breast, or could be puffy affairs which poked towards the sky.

All that I viewed ran rather large and in the course of their movements they would bounce together or collide with their own arms making me think of the soft pliability of marshmallows. Their movements also suggested the weight they carried in their bare chests.

I must say they were so large and healthy and swung so freely that I was momentarily mesmerized by them. I had seen the breasts of other savages and it was one of the perks of an African expedition, if one could get past the color. Never before had I seen such examples that caused me to compare with the fairer women of Europe.

And finally there was one last matter to their appearance. Now a gentleman has certain habits and behavior which are not cast off because one is in foreign climes. And thus one observation may be seen as coming a bit late. I believe at first I thought it to be the one patch of clothing that these women wore and maybe it was a trick of the eye. But eventually I came to realize the dark triangles below their waist were not from any cloth or vegetation or animal hide. Those dark triangles consisted of their own body hair which covered their most intimates.

I was shocked to make such a discovery and I'm sure my face was flush. These women with their large, round buttocks, their large, full, heavy breasts, all sporting large dark nipples, and with their dark and hairy minges fully exposed were quite...well...they were more 'woman' than I had ever encountered. And a confession I would never tell a priest is that I found myself stirring at the sight of them.

While there was no way for me to ignore their nakedness I did attempt to shift my focus and decipher what it was they were doing. One of the women, with colored beads in her hair, seemed to be in charge. She was dividing the women into two lines and then rearranging them. Somehow it mattered to them as more than once a woman spoke out when she was place next to another.

Eventually they formed two lines of four women each. And besides the leader there were three other women not in line and they appeared to be the youngest of the group. Looking at the women I would have to say that the biggest and the best were at the front of the line and while each woman was faultless in body, the shorter or smaller ones made it to the back of the line.

The leader then sent one line of women across the path and out of my sight. She then directed the younger women into a nearby hut. They emerged moments later carrying with them several bamboo poles, nearly ten feet long. The poles were divided among the women who were in line. I could only assume that everything I saw on this side was being mimicked by the women on the other side of the path who were hidden from my view.

The women then moved next to the perceived edge of the path and I became aware of holes that had been dug sometime before. I had seen them walk carefully at times but until I saw one step into a hole I hadn't guessed its depth. Each hole must have been about three feet deep and just as far across. The women seemed to be examining the holes but to what end I could not fathom.

Then one after the other they began to take their long poles and thrust them into the ground at the 'back' of the holes, closest to the path's edge. Some were taking several stabs at the ground while others hung on to the pole in an attempt to use their body weight to secure it. During this time the younger three went back in the hut and emerged, each with a wooden mallet. The young women would take turns climbing onto the shoulders of the other women and from such height pounding the poles more securely into the ground while the woman below steadied the pole and guided the effort.

When they were finished I could see four poles placed within each hole at the outer edge, and they stuck up six or seven feet above the ground. They cheered themselves for this accomplishment and for a time they all came back into view as they huddled and chanted together. Such a huddle hid their breasts from view, but created a prominent display of those bare buttocks.

The chanting didn't last long and the group moved out of sight off to my right. I was rather curious about the stakes and holes but had no ready answer as to what they may be for. I wondered how it may have had to do with my capture and once again I wondered how many of my comrades might be prisoners as well.

I soon received more answers but they were not encouraging and raised more, dark questions. The women returned, this time with much whooping and hollering, and each carried a stick. They did not seem threatening with the sticks but my dread came when I next saw a few boys dragging members of my expedition to the four holes. I made out Nigel first and then Clancy. All the men were bound at ankle and knee with some kind of vine or rope, and their hands secured behind their back and tied at the wrist. They had also been gagged and while they weren't unconscious they seemed sluggish in their bonds.

I was shocked to see such treatment and found myself gripping the bamboo bars of my cage. At the women's direction the boys pulled the men over, one to each hole, and threw their legs in. It was then a small circus as the boys tried to secure each of the men to the poles while they stood in the holes. In fact I couldn't imagine why they had boys trying to accomplish such a task. Surely the men of the tribe would be the better choice. However it gave me some small hope in that as yet all I saw were women and boys and it might improve our chances of escape.

During the process the women were overseeing their assigned pole and now their assigned prisoner. And here their sticks came into play. They appeared to use them as a measuring device and each was trying to ensure that their prisoner was tied to a specific height. None of that made any sense. Less surprising they used the sticks to beat the prisoners and occasionally the boys in an effort to achieve their desired results.

As they were secured one of the women kept poking her prisoner. It was Bartholomew. She just kept poking him while saying something that none of us could understand. Maybe Farnsworth could but Collin Farnsworth wasn't in this group, if he was here at all. And what could she possibly expect in reply? He was gagged as the others.

I don't know if it was seeing that I was not alone, the fear of what was intended for my mates, or if it was simply the woman prodding Bartholomew like an animal, but something got to me and I lost my calm.

"Leave him alone you savage! Her Majesty will not tolerate such abuse of her citizens!"

Well it did get her attention and that of the rest of the small crowd. She probably couldn't even understand what I was saying but I'm sure she got the gist of it. The female overseer once again came into view and she shouted while pointing at me. Then a large woman appeared right outside my cage. She must have been behind it or nearby all along.

She rapped a thick rod against my cage, and I fear would have broken a few knuckles if I had been any slower. She then thrust the rod into the cage aiming for my head. I dodged once, then twice. I had just noticed that this woman was scarred upon her face when my third dodge failed and all went black.

Chapter 2

I woke up much like before. My head was hurting and I heard noises. And once again I looked out from my cage, my only window into what was happening in the world around me. While I was unconscious more preparations had been made. My comrades were still where I had seen them last however the holes had been completely filled in, so now each man was tied to a pole and buried up to roughly his waist. There were some differences in where each man emerged from the earth, and though I didn't know why, I recalled the chosen women measuring with their sticks.

Besides the holes being filled in, making a quick rescue impossible, there were other changes. Unlit torches had been placed along the path and likely further to my right. There were also more decorations. I mean they were just various leaves and baubles on vines which hung overhead, but clearly they signified some event to come that night.

And the path was busy with people and more women passed back and forth in front of my cage. Also several of the boys could be seen, mostly carrying items here and there. It looked like the village was preparing for a celebration or ritual of some kind. And I didn't want to think what part my comrades and I might play in it.

And while perhaps just fanciful stories, I was relieved there was no large cauldron in sight, nor any other signs of cooking implements. I also wasn't sure why I hadn't been secured to a pole like the others.

And then suddenly there was a rapping on the front of my cage. It caused me to jump as much as I could in the confined space. And then from somewhere a linchpin of some sort had been released for the front of my cage fell to the ground. And then I was face to face with the scarred woman.

She dragged me from the cage with a sharp and forceful tug. I thought to fight her or simply run away but she was sitting squarely on my back the moment I was outside my prison and immediately went to securing me. Still even with such an advantage it should not have been so easy for her, but I found I was weak from my capture. My head hurt, my body was numb, and I felt a pain in my neck.

And then I had a flash of memory. We were back in the jungle cutting the trail. The jungle had come alive. All the leaves and bushes and trees were moving and the shouts of the expedition were drowned out by the whooping and war cries of the natives. I then felt a sharp pain in my neck and all went black. That was it. I must have been drugged. A blowgun dart was the only possible explanation. I was lucky it didn't kill me. Or was I really lucky after all.

I didn't have more time to ponder this revelation as she hoisted me to my feet and kept me from falling. And then she was wrapping something around my head and she spun me around. Fingers clawed at my mouth and cheeks and pieces of wood were shoved into my mouth. They were grooved and had been wedged between my teeth and forced to the back such that I could not close my mouth.

I then felt some type of cording tighten about my ears and the back of my head. Somehow this primitive device was being used much like a gag and kept my mouth forced open; to what end I didn't dare speculate. Then something like a potato was forced into my mouth making any type of screaming muffled to little more than a whisper. Then satisfied with her work and that I could not offer any meaningful resistance, she dragged me a few paces closer to the path and stood at my side and I got my first good look at what was going on.

I could now see further up the main walkway. As expected there was a matching set of poles on the other side with four more of my expedition team tied and half-buried in place. Beyond the rows of prisoners there was a large round dais made of stone. And on that was a rather over-sized throne made of wood, no doubt made larger to convey the importance of whatever savage sat upon it.

The throne was a bit unusual; maybe due to lack of resources or skill. The seat and armrests were much as expected but the back of the throne had a large gap starting at the seat and going a couple feet up before there was a backboard which could offer some support; though it would barely support the head and shoulders of the average person sitting in it.

I was just taking this in when I heard the vibrato of a gong. That was soon followed by the rhythmic thumping of drums, which I discovered were being played further from the path near the base of the huts. The drummers were boys, each actively keeping the beat with two short sticks, topped off with a wad of fabric. And now I could also see that the dais was the center of a circle of huts and the endpoint of the path through the village.

Then from behind me coming around a corner of huts was the front of a processional. More naked savage women were dancing their way along the path. Once again I found myself drawn in by the mesmerizing movements of their free swinging breasts. As they were passing me I could also appreciate how they shook their hindquarters to great effect.

They stopped just before reaching the dais, in the space between the tied captives, and continued dancing. Soon their dancing expanded and they were moving in and around my comrades. It was then that I noticed their prisoners only came up to the waists of the dancing women. Eventually the women each moved to a spot about four feet from their prisoner, facing them, and then remained in that place.

They had stopped dancing for the most part but they still made movements in place such as rolling their shoulders back and hopping lightly. Such movements kept their physical assets in motion and I was amazed at how healthy and dare I say sexual these women appeared. I also recognized them, by various attributes, as the same women who had earlier overseen the bondage of my team members, who now suffered from pit and pole.

Then the processional continued and was lead by a boy with a headdress at least half as tall as his body. It was an array of feathers and displayed in a sort of semicircle much like a peacock display, though the feathers lacked such vibrant colors. He also carried a heavily carved stick which I guessed had carvings of various animal faces. The staff was also encrusted with various beads or shells.

Unlike others I had witnessed, the boy had a lot of clothing or covering. His chest was covered in a tabard made of bone and wood pieces and he wore a large necklace over that. He marched along the path with bold confidence and I felt sure he had a position of authority such as a chief or medicine man.

But that didn't make any sense until he was closer to me. The scowl on his face was not one of a boy but of a man! I took another look but was convinced. I scanned the crowd and realized that all the 'boys' I had seen were actually men. I had heard of the pygmies on the continent and their short stature but I knew of no recorded cases where a tribe had such differences in height among the sexes. This alone would be quite a discovery if I survived my ordeal.

He was followed by other boys, er men rather, and more naked beautiful women. About the time he was passing me a chant grew louder from the path. It was more like grunts repeating in rhythm. I soon learned the reason and met with an astonishing sight that would forever be etched into my memory.

What came around the corner next was a palanquin lead by four of the short men abreast carrying the front. There were four or five along the sides and I assume the same number of men along the back. On top was more of a bench or stool than a throne and I imagined that was due to weight. Atop the bench being laboriously carried by the group of men was the largest woman I had ever seen. She was a giant and wore a headdress similar to the man ahead of her on the path.