The Red Savages, as they are commonly called on Gor, are racially and culturally distinct from the Red Hunters of the north. They tend to be a more
slender, longer-limbed people; their daughters menstruate earlier; and their babies are not born with a blue spot at the base of the spine, as in the
case with most of the red hunters. Savages of Gor, page 35


To be sure, these folks((the Red Savages)), are superb riders. A child is often put on kaiila back, its tiny hands clutching the silken neck, before it can
walk. Savages of Gor, page 47


The red-haired girl cried out in pain and fear, struck from her knees back in the grass by the plump, scornful woman of the red savages, a sturdy-
legged matron of the Dust Legs. She looked up at her in terror. Slave girls know that they have most to fear from free women.
"Wowiyutanye!" hissed the Dust-Leg woman at the frightened girl lying on her side in the grass before her.
"Yes, Mistress," said the girl in Gorean, uncomprehendingly.
The men at the trading point scarcely paid them any attention.
I sat nearby, a blanket spread out before me, on which I had spread out various of the trade goods, mostly mirrors, dyes and beads this afternoon,
which I had brought into the Barrens.
The Dust-Leg woman threw the girl to her right side in the grass and pulled up the tunic on her left thigh. The girl, terrified, did not resist. "Inahan!"
called the Dust-Leg woman to the others about, pointing to the brand on the girl's thigh. "Guyapi!"
"Ho," said one of the men, agreeably. "Inahan," agreed another.
"Winyela!" announced the woman.
"Inahan," said more than one man.
"Cesli!" said the woman scornfully to the girl.
"Please do not hurt me, Mistress," said the girl, in Gorean.
"Ahtudan!" cried the woman at her, angrily, and then she spat upon her.
"Yes, Mistress," said the red-haired girl. "Yes, Mistress!" She then pulled up her legs and looked down, into the grass.
The Dust-Leg woman turned away from her and came over to where I sat behind the blanket. She beamed at me. The Dust Legs, on the whole, are an
affable, openhearted and generous people. They tend to be friendly and outgoing. Savages of Gor, page 212-213


I glanced back. Behind us and to the side the red-haired girl, timidly, frightened, had resumed a kneeling position. I do not think that she had
personally offended the Dust-Leg woman. I think it was rather that the Dust-Leg woman simply did not entertain any great affection for white female
slaves. Many women of the red savages, in spite of the wishes of their men, do not approve of such soft, curvaceous, desirable trade goods being
brought into the Barrens. Savages of Gor, page 213


I glanced again to the white female slave of the Dust Legs, kneeling, eyes down, in her beaded collar, by the kaiila. I thought if she were washed and
combed she might not be unattractive. It was easy to see why Dust-Leg men might find such goods of interest. It might be pleasant to have such a
lovely animal about, to cook one's meat, to keep one's lodge and please one, humbly and obediently, in the furs. I could also see why Dust-Leg
women could view such a commodity with distaste and contempt. How could they, free, begin I compete with a slave? How could they even begin to
do it unless they, themselves, also became slaves? Savages of Gor, page 216


"Women, slaves, and white men are not to ride forth to look upon the Pte," called Hci after us. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 12


"I am a man," said Cuwignaka. Bold speech, incidentally, is commonly accepted from free females of their own people by the red savages. If she grows
too irritating, of course, she may, like any other woman, be beaten. Bold speech on the other hand, is not accepted from female slaves among the red
savages. Female slaves among such peoples quickly learn their place, a place in which they are kept with perfection. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 17


The Isanna Kaiila number betwen some seven and eight hundred. They were now entering the camp, from the east, in long lines in their full regalia.
The Casmu, the Wismahi and the Napoktan had already joined the Isbu in the summer gathering. The Casmu numbered in the neighborhood of one
thousand; the Wismahi, one of the smaller bands, numbered about five or six hundred. The Isbu was the largest band, containing between sixteen
and seventeen hundred members. The Napoktan, which had arrived at the camp only yesterday, ws the smallest of the bands of the Kaiila, numbering
between some three and four hundred members. These bands, within their own territores, are often divided into seperate villages or encampments. In
a given encampment, usually under a minor chief, there is selcom more than two or three hundred individuals. Indeed, sometimes an encampment
contains ony seven or eight families.
"Splendid! Splendid!" said Cuwignaka.
Three or four abreast, in long lines, led by their civil chief, Watonka, One-Who-Is-Rich, and subchiefs and high warriors, the Isanna entered the camp of
the Isbu. They carried feathered lances, and war shields and medicine shields, in decorated cases. They carried bow cases and quivers. They were
resplendent in finery and paint. Feathers, each one significant and meaningful, in te codes of the Kaiila, recounting their deeds and honors, adorned
their hair. Necklaces and rude bracelets glinted in the sun. High-pommeled saddles were polished. Coins and beads hung from the reins. Exploit
markings and lucksigns were painted on the flanks and forequarters of their animals, and ribbons and feathers were fixed in the braided, silken
manes. Women, too, in thier shirtdresses and knee-length leggings, and beads, bracelets andarmbands, and colorful blankets and capes, astride their
kaiila, riding as red savages ride, participated in this barbaric parade.

Some of these rode kaiila to which travois were attached. Some had cradles slung about the pommels of their saddles. These cradles, most of them,
are essentially wooden frames on which are fixed leather, open-fronted enclosures, opened and closed by lacings, for the infant. The wooden frame
projects both above and below the enclosure for the nfant. In particular it contains two sharpened projections at the top, like picket spikes, extending
several inches above the point where the baby's head will be located. This is to protect the infant's head in the event the cradle falling, say, from the
back of a running kaiila. Such a cradle will often, in such a case, literally stick upside down in the earth. The child, then, laced in the enclosure,
protected and supported by it, is seldom injured.
Such cradles, too, vertically, are often hung from a lodge pole or in the brances of a tree. In the tree, of course, the wind, in is rocking motion, can lull
the infant to sleep. Older children often ride on the skins stretched betwen travios poles. Sometimes their fathers or mothers carry them before them,
on the kaiila. When a child is about six, if his family is well-fixed, he will commonly have his own kaiila. The red savage, particularly the males, will
usually be a skilled rider by the age of seven. Bareback riding, incidentally, is common in war and the hunt. In trading and visiting, interestingly,
saddles are commonly used. This is perhaps because they can decorate lavishly, adding to one's apperance, and may serve, in virtue of the pommel,
primarily, as a suppot for provisions, gifts and trade articles.
"It is a simply splendid," said Cuwignaka, happily.
"Yes," I said.
Children, too, I noted, those not in cradles, greased, their hair braided, their bodies and clothing ornamented, in splendid finery, likeminiature versions
of the adults, some riding, some sitting on the skins stretched between travois poles, participated happily and proudly, or bewilderedly, in this
handsome procession. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 25-26


He had spoken to a girl who was standing near the stirrup of another girl, mounted on a kaiila. The standing girl, to whom Cuwignaka had spoken, had
come with the Isanna. She had come walking at stirrup of the mounted girl. She wore a rather plain shirtdress, with knee-length leggings and
moccasins. Her braided hair was tied with red cloth. There were glass beads about her neck. She was quite lovely. The girl on the kaiila, too, was very
lovely, indeed, perhaps even more lovely than she afoot. but her beauty, in any event, was much enhanced by her finery. Her dress was a soft-tanned
hide, almost white, fringed into which, about the breasts and shoulders, were worked intricate patterns of yellow and red beading. Her leggings and
moccasins were similarly decorated. Her braided hair, glossy and long, was bound with silver string. Two golden bracelets adorned her left wrist. She
wore two necklaces of beads, and another on which were threaded tiny, heavy tubes and pendants, spaced intermittently, of silver and gold. Across
her forehead hung a tiny silver chain on which were tiny silver droplets. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 27


"You should not be here," said a man to Cuwignaka. "This is no place for free women."
"I am a man," said Cuwignaka.
The man shrugged.
I looked about. To be sure, there were no women present, with the exception of the lovely Winyela.
She began, under the direction of Cancega, and others, to strike at the lower portions of the tree.
I wondered why there were no free women present. Could it be that something was to occur which was regarded as not being suitable, perhaps, for
the sensibilities of free women?
Winyela continued to chop at the tree. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 36

Later…

Superb," said Cuwignaka.
"Yes," I said.
Winyela, helplessly, piteously, danced her obeisance to the great pole, and, in this, to her masters, and to men.
"Look," said Cuwignaka.
"Yes," I said "Yes!"
I well understood, now, why free women could not be permitted to see such a dance. It was the dance of a slave. How horrified, how scandalized,
they would have been. Better that they not even know such things could exist. Such dances, that such things could be, are doubtless best kept as the
secrets of masters and slaves. Too, how furious, how outraged, they would be, to see how beautiful, how exciting and desirable another woman could
be, a thousand times more beautiful, exciting and desirable than themselves, and one who has naught but a slave. But then how could any free
woman compete with a slave, one who is truly mastered and owned?
I watched Winyela dance.
It was easy to see how free women could be almost insanely jealous of slaves, and how they could hate them so, so inordinately and deeply. Too, it
was little wonder that slaves, helpless in their collars, so feared and dreaded free women. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 42


"You are in the presence of a free man," I said, indicating Cuwignaka.
Swiftly she fell to her knees, and put her red hair to the dust. Her hair, sometimes braided, was now, as usual, unbraided. She, like most other girls,
whether of the red savages or not, wore it long and loose. Among the red savages, of course, free women commonly braid their hair. The lack of
braiding, thus, usually, draws an additional distraction between slaves and free women of the red savages. The most common distraction, of course, is
skin color, the slaves almost always being white and the free persons almost invariably being red. "Forgive me, Master," she said to Cuwignaka. Blood
Brothers of Gor, page 69


"He is permitting her a dress of soft tabuk skin," said Cuwignaka, "creamy white and soft-tanned, though, to be sure, of slave length. Too, he has
given her beads and moccasins. He had braided her hair. He has painted her face, for the time of the feasts."
"Marvelous," I said. It is not unusual for a master to care for a slave's hair. Too, they will, upon occasion, groom kaiila and tie streamers and ribbons in
their long manes. That he had painted her face was also impressive. Usually, among the Kaiila, it is free women who are permitted face paint, and
then, commonly only at times of great festivals. This paint is commonly applied by the woman's mate. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 118


"Mahpiyasapa is not here," said the woman, kneeling near his lodge, one of his wives. Her gnarled fingers held a bone scraper. She was sharpening
the scraper on a stone in front of her. On the scraper there were six dots. It has been used for six years. Two of her fingers had been cut ff at the first
joint. She had lost two sons. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 194


"If he is in the council," she said, "you will not be able to see him either."
"My thanks, Mistress!" I said. I turned about and hurried from the place. She had been very helpful. I did not think that I would have managed as well
had I been a white female slave. Had I been such she might have put me to labors or kept me on my belly, in the dirt, my mouth filled with dirt, before
her, for hours. Women of the red savages bear little affection towards the lovely white properties of their men. White slave girls will often flee at the
mere approach of a red female and will almost never meet the eyes of one. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 195


A slave girl screamed, buffeted to the side by a forequarters of my kaiila. She turned, struck, from the animal, her hands tied behind her back, lost her
footing and fell. I saw the frightened eyes of another girl, her wrists lifted, bound together with hair, thrown before her face. The hair that bound them
hung free before the wrists, dangling from them, in jagged strands, jerking where it had been hastily cut free from the hair of the girl before her in a
holding coffle. Her own hair, similarly, had been cut short, closely, at the back of her neck, where the girl behind her, with swift strokes of a blade, had
been freed.
"Run," a free woman was screaming. "Run! Seek you safety!"
I saw another free woman cutting at the hair of other kneeling beauties, freeing them from the cruel hair coffles that they might flee as best they
might.
Another woman was cutting the bonds at the ankles of another lovely slave. That slave's ankles had been bound more conventionally, with tight
thongs of rawhide. When the thongs sprang apart, leaping from the knife, I saw deep red circles in the girl's ankles I doubted that she would even be
able to rise to her feet for a few Ehn. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 255


Bloketu wore an unfringed, unornamented shirtdress. It was extremely simple and plain. It contrasted markedly with the exquisite, almost white, soft-
tanned tabukhide dress, with its beats and finery, worn by her mistress. She, too, had not been given knee-length leggings, of the sort common with
the women of the red savages, or moccasins. Her feet were wrapped in hide. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 382


I looked back. Dust, from the paws of the kaiila, was billowing behind me. Let the girls fight for breath. I grinned. I wished that I were within the coup
system. Surely some sort of high coup would be involved, dragging a high lady of the Yellow Knives, one of their own proud free women, in a sack, up
and down, back and forth in their own promenade lane, like a common slave girl. Surely that would be worth at least a feather or some sort of marking
on a feather. Blood Brothers of Gor, page 382


There is no doubt as to the guilt of these two," said Mahpiyasapa.
The men about him, and behind him, grunted their assent. "Cinto!" said several. "Surely! Certainly! Agreed!"
The two women, kneeling before the men, the staff bound behind their necks, their hands tied behind their backs, trembled.
"The testimonies have been taken," said Mahpiyasapa. "The evidence is clear. Concerning their complicity in the matter of the attack on the summer
camp there is no doubt."
"Cinto!" said the men. "Agreed!"
"They have conspired against the Kaiila people," said Mahpiyasapa.
"Cinto!" said the men.
"They have betrayed the Kaiila," said Mahpiyasapa.
"Cinto!" said the men.
"Have you anything to say?" asked Mahpiyasapa.
The girls, their heads down, the heavy staff behind thier necks, did not speak.
"You are found guilty," said Mahpiyasapa.
They trembled, sobbing.
"As one of you was once the daughter of a Kaiila chieftain, Watonka, who was once a great warrior amongst us, and was once my friend, and one of
you was once her maiden, I shall not have you subjected to tortures."
"Mahpiyasapa is merciful," said a man.
"Our women will not be pleased," said another man.
"You will be treated with the dignity of free women," said Mahpiyasapa."Let the sentence be passed," said Kahintokapa, he of the Casmu Kaiila, he of
the Yellow-Kaiila Riders.
bloketu put down her head.
"Proceed," said Iwoso. "Pass your sentence! I do not fear slavery!"
"In the morning," said Mahpiyasapa, "take them to the summit of the trail, where we had placed the barricade. There, then, from that place, let them
be flung to the rocks below."
Bloketu looked at him, aghast.
"No," cried Iwoso. "No! No!" Blood Brothers of Gor, page 452-453


Cuwignaka seized Bloketu from behind by the arms. "No, no!" she cried, wildly, throwing her head back. Cuwignaka forced her inexorably, implacably,
to the edge. "I beg the alternative!" screamed Bloketu. "I beg the alternative!" screamed Bloketu. "I beg the alternative!"
Cuwignaka looked at Mahpiyasapa.
"What alternative?" cried Iwoso, wildly.
Mahpiyasapa made a sign and Cuwignaka, at the very edge of the surface, released Bloketu. She fell to her knees and scrambled back from the edge,
her knees abraded on the rock. She, kneeling, her hands tied behind her, her ankles thonged, wildly, faced Mahpiyasapa. "I beg the alternative," she
wept, hysterically, "Master!"
"Master?" asked Mahpiyasapa.
"Yes, Master!" she cried. "As a slave I must address all free men as 'Master'."
"You are not a slave," said Mahpiyasapa. "You are a free woman."
"No, Master!" she cried. "I am a slave! I am a slave! I pronounce myself a slave! I have been a slave for years, a secret slave. I now confess my
deception, acknowledging that I am, and have been, a slave, only a slave, for years! Forgive my, Masters!"
"Look at her knees!" said a man.
The girl looked down, strartled. Her knees, without her even having thought of it, widely spread, were in slave position. It had been done
inadvertently, unpermeditaitively, naturally, unconsciously. Such things can betray a woman. But she did not, then, draw her knees together. She
remained, agonized, frightened, in the shameful position.
"Slave!" cried more than one man, scornfully.
"Are you a white female?" inquired a man.
"We are all sisters," she said. "I am no more than they."
"You have pornounced yourself a slave," said Mahpiyasapa, wonderingly.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Now," said Mahpiyasapa, "you are a slave, even if you were not before."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"What is your name?" asked Mahpiyasapa.
"I have no name," she said.
"This being a slave," said Mahpiyasapa to the members of the council, standing about him, "clearly it is not fitting that she be subjected to the
honorable death of a free woman."
The members of the council nodded their agreement.
"Later, shameles slave," said Mahpiyasapa to she who had been Bloketu, "you whohad the insolence, the punishable audacity, to pretend to be a free
woman, it will be decided what is to be done with you."
The slave, trembling, put down her head.
"This one, at least," said Hci, seizing Iwoso from behind by the arms. "is a free woman."
"Then," said Mahpiyasapa, angrily, "let the sentence, as passed, be carried out in her case!"
"No!" cried Iwoso, helpless as a doll in Hci's merciless grip. "I beg permission to kneel!"
Hci looked at Mahpiyasapa. Then he let Iwoso fall to her knees. She was weeping. "I, too, am a slave," she wept. "I, too, am a slave!"
She threw her soft body to the rock at Mahpiyasapa's feet. Lying on her belly before him, her hands bound behind her back, her ankles thonged, she
pressed her lips, again and again, helplessly, to his moccasins, covering them with kisses. "I, too, am a slave!" she wept.
"On your knees," he sternly ordered her.
She struggled up to her knees. She noticed, startled, that her knees were spread widely. But then, no more than the other girl, did she close them.
"Speak!" ordered Mahpiyasapa.
"I pronounce myself slave," she said. "I, too, I confess, have been a secret slave, one masqurading for years as a free woman!"
"Is this true?" asked Mahpiyasapa.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"She lies to avoid the rocks," said a man, sneeringly.
"She may think she is lying," said Mahpiyasapa, "but recourse to such a lie would be ahd only by one who is truly a slave."
"That is true," said a man, musingly.
"In any event," said a man, "she has now pronounced herself a slave."
"Yes," said another man.
"You understand, do you not," asked Mahpiyasapa of the girl, "that the words alone were sufficient, that in speaking them you became a slave, even if
you were not a slave before?"
"Yes, Master," she said. Matters such as intention, as I have earlier indicated, are in such cases irrelevant to the legal enactments involved.
"What is your name?" asked Mahpiyasapa.
"I have no name," she said.
"These women are slaves," said Mahpiyasapa, turning to the council. "No longer is it fitting that they be subjected to the honorable death of a free
woman."
The council grunted its agreement.
"The sentence then," said Mahpiyasapa, "is rescinded."
The girls looked up at him, elated.
"Now give them to the woemn," said a man.
"They will be pleased to get them," said another.
"That should have been done in the first place," said another.
"Please, no," begged she who had been Bloketu.
"As slaves," said Mahipyasapa to the girls, "you may now be subjected to lengthy and insidious tortures, and not even necessarily for crimes, at so
little as the whim of a master."
The girls looked at him, trembling, their eyes wide with terror.
"Give them to the women," laughed a man.
"Take us as slaves, "begged she who had been Bloketu.
"Please, Masters!" wept she how had once been the proud Iwoso.
"I do not accept you as slaves of the Kaiila," said Mahpiyasapa.
The girls shuddered, rejected.
"Is there any here," asked Mahipyasapa, "who would accept these slaves?"
No one spoke.
"Give them to the women," said a man.
"Give them to the women!" cried several of the man.
"Please, Master," cried she who had been Bloketu, suddenly, turning and throwing herslef to her shoulder, and then to her belly, before Cuwignaka.
She kissed his moccasins fervently, lying bound on her belly before him. "Please, Master," she begged, weeping, "please accept me as a slave!"
Iwoso threw herself on her belly, on the rock, before Hci. "I am a slave!" she wept. "Please, Master, do not let them give me to the women!" Her tears
flowed copiously, staining the rock and his moccasins. Her body trembled. Her small wrists moved helplessly behind her, confined in their tight thongs.
Her lips pressed again and again to his moccasins, covering them with pleading, desperate kisses. "I beg you, Master!" she wept. "Please, please
accept me as a slave!"
He crouched down, and turned her to her side, that she might look up at him. "You said you would rather die than to be my slave." he said.
"I lied," she said. "I lied! I am a slave! You may punish me for such things!"
"I often wondered," said Hci, "if you might not have been a slave."
"You see now it is true, Master!" she said.
He regarded her.
"But not only am I a slave," she said. "I am your slave!"
"My slave?" he asked.
"For years," she said, "I have known that I was your slve. Surely, too, you, when you looked upon me, must have known that you were my master!"
Hci said nothing.
"These things were confirmed at the post," she said, "when you taught me my sex, and your power!"
Hci regarded her, not speaking. His face was expressionless.
"I ask only," she said, "the opportunity to prove to you that I am worthy of being owned."
He stood up, his arms crossed. He was lean and strong, in the breechclout.
"Give them to the women!" cried a man.
"Give them to the women!" cried men.
"No," said Cuwignaka.
The men were suddenly silent, startled.
"I accept this woman," he said, indicating she who had been Bloketu, "as my slave."
She who had been Bloketu laid her cheek on the rock beside his moccasins, shuddering.
"Give that one to the women!" cried a man, indicating she who had been Iwoso.
"No," said Hci, his arms folded, surveing the men. "She is my slave."
"So be it," said Mahpiyasapa. "The matter is done." He, then, and the others, began to disperse.
Iwoso lay shuddering at Hci's feet, helpless. page Blood Brothers of Gor, 454-455-456-457-458
All rights reserved.
This research is done on the series of books written by John Norman, the comments in italics are mine and my point of view.
Woman of Gor
Free Women of Different Cultures
Free Women of Gor
Free Women of the Red Savages