Buffalo Medicine Read Free Page A

always regarded the annual event as something that just happened.
    Apparently the decision was right, for the prairie did green, and the buffalo did come.
    Now, announced White Buffalo, it was time for Owl to learn to work within the herd. First there was an impressive
dance ceremony in the lodge. The old man put on the white buffalo headdress of his office and began his dance, while Crow Woman beat a rhythm on a small drum.
    The white headdress, with horns attached and the skin of the hump falling down around the old man’s shoulders, was very strong medicine. It had been among the People for many generations, Owl knew, handed down with the name from one medicine man to the next. The young man could still hardly comprehend that some day he might be the one to wear that scared cape.
    Owl tried to watch carefully as the medicine man performed the dance. He sat in awe as the old man leaned stiffly over, the massive head swaying in mimicry of the buffalo’s movements. The feet pawed at the floor in perfect imitation of a buffalo bull with the herd. This rendition, Owl realized, had taken a lifetime to learn.
    At the end of the dance, White Buffalo took a tanned calfskin and spread it around the head and shoulders of his student. In this way, he stated, would the boy begin to learn.
    They began by approaching an undisturbed herd of buffalo. From the hilltop, White Buffalo pointed out things about the herd … the old cow who was probably the leader, standing on the far side … the largest old bull, but probably not the most dangerous … a young cow with a small calf, unpredictable and quite likely to attack if provoked.
    â€œYou must learn how the buffalo feels,” the old man advised. “You must look at an animal and put yourself inside his head. How would you move if you were that calf, there?” He pointed with a crooked finger at a yellow calf, playfully trotting near its mother.
    For days, Owl was permitted only to watch the animals. Then, with the calfskin over his shoulders, he mimicked the gaits of the live animals, under his teacher’s inspection. The medicine man was noncommittal.

    â€œNot good, not bad,” he shrugged.
    Next day, however, he suggested that Owl begin approaching the herd.
    â€œIf an animal threatens you,” he advised, “remember how the calf does. He moves just enough, not too far. To run would give away your secret.”
    At first it was the hardest thing Owl had ever done. With the calfskin over his shoulder, he moved among the big animals, pretending to be one of them, although a small one. Owl was sure he would be discovered, and at very least send the herd flying over the hill. At worst, he imagined himself trampled or gored.
    Owl realized finally that he must be doing it right. He had not frightened the herd, and had not been trampled or gored. The incident which really convinced him was an accident. While watching a possibly dangerous young cow, he backed accidentally into the flank of a large bull. The massive head swung irritably, a polished black horn brushed his shoulder, and Owl jumped quickly aside. Just as a calf would jump, he realized later. Maybe, he thought that night, I really am getting inside the head of the buffalo.
    However, Owl was beginning to resent this constant preoccupation with buffalo. He could see that when the old man had learned his profession, this had been an important part. It had been necessary to work among the buffalo, to learn how to move the herd without alarming the animals. They could be maneuvered into a narrow confine or stampeded over a cliff to assist the hunters. White Buffalo had told him endless tales of such hunts.
    But now, with the hunting done on horseback, what was the use? The hunt was fast, open, and moving rapidly. There was no place for a medicine man on foot among the animals.
    Owl ventured to raise this question one evening. White Buffalo became irritated.

    â€œYou will learn these things