Buffalo Boy

By Christopher Charles

Suddenly the buffalo charged. The shock took precious seconds and allowed the buffalo to be very close before he could react. Askee's legs, caught half way, were not balanced. He did not have the leverage of the moments before to plant the sacred arrow in the bow correctly. He panicked. "Not yet!" He screamed. "Not yet!"
Pulling back hard, he let the sacred arrow fly, but it was poorly aimed. The buffalo with his head down took the arrow in his heavy shoulder hair. It did little damage and allowed him to continue his attack.
Askee had a brief glimpse of the sharp horn coming up underneath him. He felt it go into his side ripping vital organs. Suddenly he was airborne going high up over the buffalo's back.
He waited for his back to hit the ground, but for some reason it did not. He felt himself floating upward until he was in the clouds. The high emotions of the kill left him. He was drifting, and thinking, "It is so peaceful. Why am I here? I was doing something important. I must remember." His mind tried hard, but the effort quickly became tiring, and he stopped.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Charles
• Release date: Jul 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950901012

Book preview

Copyright 5/15/15

1-2384267931

Other Books by Christopher Charles In This Genre:

Rose Series:

The story takes place in southern Alabama along the Tensaw River in the year 1850. Rose lives a very sheltered life until she reached the age of twelve when her adventures begin taking the riverboat with its boiler about to explode down the Mississippi River.

The adventure continues when her family moves to the Great Plains (Midwest). She finds herself alone, deserted by her family thousands of miles from civilization with an unbalanced Army Captain trying to kill her. Her only saving grace Is the Indian boy, Askee.

Titles:

Buffalo Boy

(Ayanah Askee)

By Christopher Charles

Prolog

Long before there were horses on the Great Plains a group called the Buffalo People traveled with the buffalo over the Great Plains. This is a story of how that came about.

1 The Dream

Little Askee felt the sharp winter wind pierce the old stitching of the ceremonial buffalo robe he wore on his back. He stood on Spirit Rock three hundred feet above the forbidden land of the moving grass later to be called the Great Plain. It stretched south for thousands of miles. He could see the powerful wind from the north trying to eat the grass.

Talking to the wind, he said. You are very foolish. See, the grass moves away from you. Only the buffalo can take it for nourishment.

His village was behind and below him and hugged the river of life in the lush valley of the trees. Further north the land thrust even higher reaching into the domain of the Great Spirit himself.

Yes, the buffalo are coming, Askee said upon seeing them. A few at first then thousands of buffalo began filling the land of the moving grass in front of him. Today I will become a warrior! He shouted.

Only this year was he strong enough to pull the bow. He remembered the buffalo ceremonial where the Warrior Chief had given him the sacred arrow. His voice still lingered in his head. When the sacred arrow enters the heart of the buffalo, you will become a warrior. He was thirteen winters old. He would not be given another chance.

Askee clasped the bow in his right hand tighter and held the sacred arrow in the other. He must pierce the heart of the beast on the first shot or die of the charging horns. Come take the sacred arrow, Tso Ayanah, he shouted. I grow impatient to become a warrior.

He knew the arrow held great power because it was taken from the tree pierced by the Great Spirit's thunder fire ten winters ago. He also knew it might not be enough. Many have died, and some have come back to the village to remain as crippled squaw boys. What would he do? Only the Great Spirit knew. He felt the twinge of fear trying to find its foothold. Closing his eyes, he forced it back. I will become a warrior! He shouted.

The buffalo had moved closer. He knew the Great Spirit would choose one for him. A small buffalo with a big head sought its mother. No, he said to himself. I will not be given that one or his mother. The son of the Great Wise Man will be given a large one.

He allowed his eyes to move across the plain until they came to rest on the biggest buffalo he has ever seen. He could not take his eyes from it. No! Askee said shaking his head. That one is too big! He looked away, and tried to concentrate on another smaller buffalo, but his eyes would drift back to the Tso Ayanah, the big buffalo.

The big buffalo looked up and caught him looking at him. Their eyes locked. He could not look away! Did the Tso Ayanah know what was in his heart? Did he know he was going to kill him? Showing no fear, the big buffalo shook his head, broke eye contact, and continued to eat. Was he challenging him?

Yes, Askee reassured himself. You are my buffalo. The Great Spirit has given you to me. He felt the lump forming in his throat.

Below, Little Askee watched the circle of death being formed. Each warrior, hidden in the cut bushes, would move a few feet closer to the buffalo herd and stop. They waited until the herd settled down, and then moved again until they had completed a circle around a portion of the herd. Gradually the circle would become tighter until the spaces between the bushes closed. Now, Tso Ayanah, Askee said to himself. Walk into the circle of death.

The buffalo, moving while they grazed, did not realize they were being enclosed. Thinking more bushes extended beyond those they saw in front of them, they did not try to break through. They would turn to one side and continued to graze.

Askee continued, Yes, Tso Ayanah, keep walking. Follow the little one and his mother.

Finally, the circle of death was completed. They had his buffalo along with thirty more enclosed. Even the little one and its mother. They were ready! All they needed was his signal, and the death would begin.

He hesitated a moment when he saw the little one and knew of its fate. Pushing his feelings aside, No! He yelled. I am a warrior! Little one, your fate lays with the Great Spirit. He lifted the robe from his back and waved it high in the air. The wind suddenly became stronger and ripped it from his hands. It sailed high up over the land of the moving grass warning those below of the impending death.

The herd, suddenly alerted, stampeded away from the rocky mesa, but those in the circle of death had nowhere to go. Following the big buffalo, they began running around inside the circle looking for a way to escape.

Suddenly death began to strike. Arrows flew from the bushes. They cut into the flesh of the buffalo driving them faster around the circle. The little one was first to go, and then its mother. The buffalo continued to take arrows until their wounds drove them to the ground. All except the big buffalo. No arrows touched him. He was allowed to run unharmed in the circle.

Askee, talking to himself, said, Yes, Tso Ayanah, you have been left for me. He lifted his bow and arrow high over his head and gave out a loud war whoop. He screamed into the air hoping to drive out the remaining fear in his heart. The Great Spirit has chosen you! He yelled.

He ignored the path and took the steep side. Going down, he leaped from boulder to boulder until he reached the loose rock. It was no longer necessary to be quiet. He allowed his feet to work and began sliding down. He leaped to another section of loose gravel when it began to pile up behind him.

Coming off the hill, he raced for the circle of death. In front of him two of the bushes opened. He knew the other side would be his buffalo. Without slowing, he burst through. Suddenly he was face to face with the biggest buffalo he had ever seen. Coming to a quick stop, he dropped to one knee and placed the sacred arrow. Many months of practice made this routine, but then he was not staring into the angry eyes of death. He felt the beads of sweat forming on his face. He pulled the bow tight. I am ready, Tso Ayanah! He shouted. Come take my arrow!

The big buffalo was not moving. He stood pawing the ground. Askee could feel his anger. He pulled the sacred bow tighter. He knew the buffalo had to be within ten feet for the bow to strike deep enough for the kill. The big buffalo seemed to know this and remained his distance out of the killing range.

What are you waiting for, Tso Ayanah? Askee, frustrated, shouted. My arrow calls for you.

It was a stand-off. The buffalo would not move, and Askee did not dare change positions. He remembered others who did. They came back to the village without their legs. Some were gored and died. He knew his remains would be given a proper burial if he did not die a coward. Otherwise he would be left to the wolves.

Clenching his teeth, he tried to drive these thoughts from his mind. Now, Tso Ayanah! He shouted. Come take my arrow! He knew he could not hold the scared bow this tight for long. Already he could feel his arm quivering.

Little Askee locked his eyes on the buffalo who continued to stare back. Each evaluated the other looking for weaknesses. Why do you stare at me, Tso Ayanah? He shouted.

The buffalo did not answer directly, but Little Askee could feel the pent-up anger and the need for revenge.

Let me become a warrior! He shouted. Take the sacred arrow to the Great Spirit.

Instead, the huge buffalo continued to paw the ground, and move slowly further back. He did not seem to fear the bushes.

Askee's arm began to shake. He was having difficulty holding the bow taut. Come back here, he pleaded. Come back here and die!

It was not working! He felt his muscles fatiguing fast. Did the Big Buffalo sense this? He had to release some tension. Slowly he eased the pressure off the bowstring and began to stand. I need to be closer to kill you, he said softly.

Suddenly the buffalo charged. The shock took precious seconds and allowed the buffalo to be very close before he could react. Askee's legs, caught half way, were not balanced. He did not have the leverage of the moments before to plant the sacred arrow in the bow correctly. He panicked. Not yet! He screamed. Not yet!

Pulling back hard, he let the sacred arrow fly, but it was poorly aimed. The buffalo with his head down took the arrow in his heavy shoulder hair. It did little damage and allowed him to continue his attack.

Askee had a brief glimpse of the sharp horn coming up underneath him. He felt it go into his side ripping vital organs. Suddenly he was airborne going high up over the buffalo's back.

He waited for his back to hit the ground, but for some reason it did not. He felt himself floating upward until he was in the clouds. The high emotions of the kill left him. He was drifting, and thinking, It is so peaceful. Why am I here? I was doing something important. I must remember. His mind tried hard, but the effort quickly became tiring, and he stopped.

He felt his side hurting where the buffalo's horn had entered. The pain intensified. The clouds disappeared, and were replaced with the burning red. Another sharp pain, and his eyes opened. He was looking up into the face of his mother. She was kicking him in the side.

Get up lazy one, his mother said. The warriors are due back, and your father may have need of you.

Little Askee, trying to focus, Did I kill the Tso Ayanah?

No, his mother said, giving him a stern look. It was only your dream again. You did not kill Tso Ayanah! You are not a great warrior! You will never be a great warrior! We have been over this many times. You have the gift and must follow the footsteps of your father.

I don't want the gift! I want to be a warrior!

No, my son this is not your future. Our people have many warriors, but only one Wise One, and he grows old. Your gift is very precious. It was given to you by the Great Spirit himself during the year of your sickness two winters ago. You must use your gift for the sake of your people.

Little Askee was on his feet shouting. I don't want my gift! Give it to someone else!

This cannot be done, she said patiently. You cannot give back what the Great Spirit has given.

A drum began to pound a rhythmic beat. Slow and quiet at first then increasing in tempo until it filled the sod hut with its sound.

She nodded towards the door. There! She said. That is your father calling for you. Maybe you should tell him about your dream.

Turning, Askee started for the opening and shouted over his back. I know what it means! The Great Spirit wants me to become a great warrior! He looked back to see his mother shake her head, then he ducked to go through the three foot round opening.

He was out and running through the snow tunnel towards the ceremonial hut. This hut was larger, but similar to all the others in its construction. This consisted of sticks tightly woven together. Then each space was packed with sod and mud from the river. To winterize the huts' snow was packed over the sticks to insulate them from the freezing north wind.

His foot hit a slush spot in the snow tunnel and almost sent him to the ground. Yes, he said to himself. I know the snow is melting. Maybe they will dig out today. The Great Spirit will tell me. He could already feel the buffalo close by. No matter what his father said, he was going to become a warrior.

The drum's rhythmic notes soften and became almost quiet. It made him more aware of the quietness. Softly he stepped through the opening and entered the ceremonial hut. In front of him and at the far end of the hut sat his father, the Wise One, slowly beating his drum. He was amazed at the sound such a small drum could make.

He heard his father's voice in the darkness. Enter my son. Come here to me. The warriors will soon arrive with news of the Buffalo. We must see if the Great Spirit is pleased and will allow us to remove our snow covering.

The buffalo have already come, he answered, and walked slowly toward his father. Others were here! They lined the sides of the hut. He could not see them because of the darkness, but he could feel their movements. Asking, Why…Why do you have the elders here?

They wish to observe your gift, his father said. I have told them it is very powerful.

Askee could smell the burning incense. Strong, it filled his nose. He did not like the smell. He did not need it to take him across the great divide to the Great Spirit. Puzzled, he asked, Why do you burn the smelling weed?

It is not for you, my son, his father answered, But for me. The elders must decide whose spirit will guide our people. Yours or mine, for you are of age to be considered.

I am of age to become a warrior. Let them consider that. Askee demanded.

Yes, my son that will be considered, his father said in a controlled voice. Please take your position. The stomachs of our people are very lean. They grow inpatient for buffalo meat.

Askee stumbled forward. The burning incense offered the only light, but he managed to find his spot, a depression in the dirt floor that matched his body. His head lay at the crossed legs of his father, and the incense burned on each side of him.

He could feel the cold dirt work its way into the pores of his skin. He knew soon it would warm up. He looked up to see his father. He was wearing his buffalo head with the skin portion flowing over his back.

His father leaned over until all he could see was the buffalo head coming towards him. The head touched his body, and he felt his mind whirling. In seconds he was floating in the soft clouds above. He heard his father's words work their way through. They were soft, but they knew where to go. He tried to ignore them. It felt so peaceful here, but it was not to be.

His father's words worked their way into his safe spot and demanded response. Little Askee, ask the Great Spirit about the weather. Can we take the snow down? Will he allow the buffalo ceremonial? Our stores are empty. Our people need something for their hunger.

Askee could feel the urgency of his father’s words and the pressure of the elders. He would seek the weather first. Oh, Great Spirit, please show me the weather for our people grow hungry.

In his head the image of their village appeared. He saw the huts grouped along the west side of the river bank. They appeared as small white mounds with connecting tunnels of snow. The largest mound sat at the top of a large snow-covered ceremonial circle. To the south of this was a burial ground below a small barren hill before the great plain