missed the target four times.
“Perhaps you need a bow more your size.”
Mitch turned to see Elk Chaser walking toward him, a grin on
his face. “I doubt if it will help,” Mitch replied good-naturedly. “I don’t
think the fault lies in the bow, but in my skill.”
“I think you are right,” Elk Chaser agreed as he handed
Mitch his own bow.
It was a good sturdy weapon made of bodark wood. Strong yet
flexible, it was easily five feet in length. He accepted an arrow from Elk
Chaser. It was made of willow, fletched with two eagle feathers. The bowstring
was made of deer sinew.
After five tries with only one hit, Mitch handed the bow
back to Elk Chaser. “I can see I will need a lot of practice.”
Elk Chaser looked at Rides the Buffalo. They exchanged
solemn looks, then laughed out loud.
“Come,” Elk Chaser said, grinning. “Let us eat.”
* * * * *
That evening, Mitch walked down to a quiet place near the
river. Standing on the bank, he gazed at the reflection of the moon that
shimmered like molten gold on the surface of the slow-moving water.
He had never felt such a sense of homecoming, of belonging,
as he had since he’d entered the rancheria . The people had made him feel
welcome. Their language, a language he had not heard since childhood, sprang
easily to his lips. Faces he had never seen before looked familiar, and he had
to keep reminding himself that he had never been here before.
He stared up at the sky, the urge to pray strong within him
though he had not uttered a prayer in more years than he cared to admit. When
his mother left his father, he had prayed for her return, prayed fervently as
only a frightened and lonely child can pray, and then the old man had told him
White Robe was dead, and Mitch had stopped praying.
But now, with his mother nearby and the soft sounds of the
night all around him, he felt the need to pray, to offer his thanks to the
Great Spirit for returning his mother to him after all these years.
Did he even remember how to pray?
“ Ashoge, Usen,” he murmured. “Thank You for returning
my mother to me. Thank You for bringing me home to this place. Thank You for my
brother…”
Mitch grinned into the darkness. Earlier, he had asked Elk
Chaser how Rides the Buffalo had gotten his name.
“It happened like this,” Elk Chaser began. “It was summer.
My son had watched the hunters one day as they moved among the buffalo covered
with buffalo hides to disguise their scent and shape. He is brave, my son, and
so, one day, he takes his buffalo skin and creeps up to the edge of the herd
that is grazing nearby. Being a small warrior, he is hardly noticed as he slips
in among the herd. Hidden beneath his robe, he makes his way to the center.
Watching the buffalo closely, he imitates the movements of a buffalo calf.
“But then, being only a small boy and not able to see much
from the ground, he decides to climb up on a rock. This gives him a different
view of the buffalo. He remains motionless on the rock, smiling at his feat of
courage. Soon, a large bull moves near the rock, so close that my small warrior
reaches out to touch the curly hide. The bull, being full of years, does not
notice.
“Being brave, but foolish, my son climbs onto the back of
the buffalo. Lying flat on the animal’s broad back, he pulls his robe over him.
“Slowly, the herd begins to move. My son does not know that
hunters clad in buffalo hides have moved in among the herd.
“Just before the attack is to begin, one of the warriors
notices the boy on the back of the old bull. Acting quickly, he cuts the bull
from the herd and just before the other warriors begin their attack, he pulls
my foolish son from the back of the buffalo. Startled, the buffalo lunges forward,
knocking the warrior and my son to the ground.
“The warrior is angry, but my son, who is too young to be
afraid, or to realize the danger he was in, begins to laugh, and soon the
warrior begins laughing with him.
“That night,
“Perhaps you need a bow more your size.”
Mitch turned to see Elk Chaser walking toward him, a grin on
his face. “I doubt if it will help,” Mitch replied good-naturedly. “I don’t
think the fault lies in the bow, but in my skill.”
“I think you are right,” Elk Chaser agreed as he handed
Mitch his own bow.
It was a good sturdy weapon made of bodark wood. Strong yet
flexible, it was easily five feet in length. He accepted an arrow from Elk
Chaser. It was made of willow, fletched with two eagle feathers. The bowstring
was made of deer sinew.
After five tries with only one hit, Mitch handed the bow
back to Elk Chaser. “I can see I will need a lot of practice.”
Elk Chaser looked at Rides the Buffalo. They exchanged
solemn looks, then laughed out loud.
“Come,” Elk Chaser said, grinning. “Let us eat.”
* * * * *
That evening, Mitch walked down to a quiet place near the
river. Standing on the bank, he gazed at the reflection of the moon that
shimmered like molten gold on the surface of the slow-moving water.
He had never felt such a sense of homecoming, of belonging,
as he had since he’d entered the rancheria . The people had made him feel
welcome. Their language, a language he had not heard since childhood, sprang
easily to his lips. Faces he had never seen before looked familiar, and he had
to keep reminding himself that he had never been here before.
He stared up at the sky, the urge to pray strong within him
though he had not uttered a prayer in more years than he cared to admit. When
his mother left his father, he had prayed for her return, prayed fervently as
only a frightened and lonely child can pray, and then the old man had told him
White Robe was dead, and Mitch had stopped praying.
But now, with his mother nearby and the soft sounds of the
night all around him, he felt the need to pray, to offer his thanks to the
Great Spirit for returning his mother to him after all these years.
Did he even remember how to pray?
“ Ashoge, Usen,” he murmured. “Thank You for returning
my mother to me. Thank You for bringing me home to this place. Thank You for my
brother…”
Mitch grinned into the darkness. Earlier, he had asked Elk
Chaser how Rides the Buffalo had gotten his name.
“It happened like this,” Elk Chaser began. “It was summer.
My son had watched the hunters one day as they moved among the buffalo covered
with buffalo hides to disguise their scent and shape. He is brave, my son, and
so, one day, he takes his buffalo skin and creeps up to the edge of the herd
that is grazing nearby. Being a small warrior, he is hardly noticed as he slips
in among the herd. Hidden beneath his robe, he makes his way to the center.
Watching the buffalo closely, he imitates the movements of a buffalo calf.
“But then, being only a small boy and not able to see much
from the ground, he decides to climb up on a rock. This gives him a different
view of the buffalo. He remains motionless on the rock, smiling at his feat of
courage. Soon, a large bull moves near the rock, so close that my small warrior
reaches out to touch the curly hide. The bull, being full of years, does not
notice.
“Being brave, but foolish, my son climbs onto the back of
the buffalo. Lying flat on the animal’s broad back, he pulls his robe over him.
“Slowly, the herd begins to move. My son does not know that
hunters clad in buffalo hides have moved in among the herd.
“Just before the attack is to begin, one of the warriors
notices the boy on the back of the old bull. Acting quickly, he cuts the bull
from the herd and just before the other warriors begin their attack, he pulls
my foolish son from the back of the buffalo. Startled, the buffalo lunges forward,
knocking the warrior and my son to the ground.
“The warrior is angry, but my son, who is too young to be
afraid, or to realize the danger he was in, begins to laugh, and soon the
warrior begins laughing with him.
“That night,
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