A young girl stood naked and
afraid. Afraid because she knew death
was coming. Her body, straining with
heavy pregnancy, remained rock still.
Upon closer inspection, her brow was beaded with sweat, and her nostrils
were flaring despite the copper ring placed in between them.
Her entire female family spanning
three generations of healers was bound beside her. All naked, and all condemned. They were considered priestesses of hell,
witches and fiends. They were wanderers who offered their potions, herbs, and
their bodies for temporary lodging. The lack of male births was being blamed on
the recent potions given to the women to increase fertility.
Birthing males was important to
the survival of the tribe. Only one male was born unto them that year and the tribal
Elders were incensed. They had brought
the matter to the shaman, who looked to his visions to guide him. He was convinced that the healers had brought
bad magic to their women. Some of the
women grew ill and died. Even some of
the older children fell ill. The fertile
shores of the river now fed off the rotting flesh of their tribe. The sounds of the river should have been
soothing, but it wasn’t. It seemed a
hungry predator, waiting to devour more corpses. The nomadic women were being sacrificed to
the river, in hopes that their demise would end this period of infertility.
The rest of the tribe stood a
safe distance hack. Not wanting the spirits of the damned ones to infect their
bodies, the men were smeared with blood and carried spears and shields to
protect their families. Torches
illuminated the scene casting off an eerie light. The Elders each stood behind the family and
waved their sticks in submission to the Gods.
“I WILL CURSE YOU! ALL OF YOU!”
The oldest female screamed. There
was a hush as the tribe strained to hear her warbled voice over the drums. The drums ceased. The bonfire leapt high, making a hissing
sound. Insects droned softly.
“You!” The old crone addressed the shaman.
“You will beget a female
offspring who will rule the entire Amazon and kill mercilessly. None of your male descendents will be
spared. When her flesh rots her evil
will span through generations. It will
not stop until they are all dead!”
Shock and outrage rippled through
the crowd. A female ruler! A killer of men? The
Elders growled with disgust, while inside they trembled. The medicine woman had powerful magic, but
surely she cannot give the powers from the Gods unto a lowly female? The Elders pushed the women forward into the
tumultuous river.
They were immediately sucked
under to their deaths.
The shaman motioned the rest of
the tribe to the fire where the last female infant was roasting on a spit. Her entrails were beneath her, used to fuel
the fire. She was last of that accursed
family, and was the last sacrifice. For
a short while, village life returned to normal.
No diseases had spread and the Jivaros were
hunting successfully.