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Fellow warriors, it is my honor to present to you the newest member of our band: Mohican Molly.

Mohican Molly



When Molly asked what she must do to become a Mohican, chief Deadly Dagger laughed in her face. “Females cannot join the Mohican club,” he said. “We are male warriors! You are nothing but a girl. Even our own sisters are forbidden membership in this band of men who are fearless in battle and give no quarter to enemies.” Pointing upward, he said, “That tree house is our sacred meeting place. No female foot has ever sullied its hallowed floor. Girls are beneath our manly stature. Depart from my presence!”
Storming away, Molly said, “You are wrong, Chief Deadly Dagger — I will prove myself worthy to be among your number!” Later that day, before mustering for a war council, a member climbed the ladder to the clubhouse to make certain that the ritual items were in place. Out of earshot and hidden behind a tree, Molly watched. The warrior who inspected the clubhouse scampered quickly down the ladder and said to his brothers, “A huge wasp nest is hanging from the ceiling.” With a malicious look on his face, the chief chuckled and said, “Ah-ha, fetch that sweet innocent little girl Molly. The wasps will rid us of her, once and for all.” When Molly was brought before him, the chief said, “Girl, if you can climb blindfolded up to the tree house and bring me the sacred Bowie knife hanging from the ceiling, you will qualify for Mohican membership. But you’ll get no second chance — fail and you’ll be banned forever from this manly cult.” “Fair enough. I am ready, Chief. Please blindfold me.” Slowly, Molly felt her way up the ladder and into the house. While groping for the Bowie knife, her hand poked directly into the nest. Out she flew, slapping, screaming, and crashing to the ground. Barely able to conceal his glee, Chief Deadly Dagger asked her what happened.

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“A wasp nest is hanging from the ceiling and I put my hand right into it,” she said. “But that will not stop me from getting that knife. Tie some rags to a stick, set them on fire, and let one of your warriors volunteer to shove it near the nest. When the smoke makes the wasps leave, I’ll climb blindfolded into the house and get the knife.” Complete silence fell over the band. Realizing that nobody would volunteer to smoke the wasp nest, Molly snarled, “I thought y’all were mighty men of valor, unafraid of anything. Very well, I’ll do it myself.” With that, she wrapped an old towel around a stick, lit it, and entered the clubhouse. When the smoke caused the wasps to flee, she grabbed the knife, and climbed down. Handing the knife to Chief Deadly Dagger, she said, “Honorable warriors never break their word — will you?” Looking around at his silent, sheepish, shamefaced soldiers, the chief put his arm around the girl and said, “Fellow warriors, it is my honor to present to you the newest member of our band: Mohican Molly.


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Jimmy Reed -- Bio and Archives

Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.

This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.

Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).


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