buffalo.
"Something’s wrong with Thunder, isn't there?" She inched closer for a better look.
"Not exactly. There's another calf." He pressed his hand in deeper.
"What? You've got to be kidding! Did you hear, boys? Thunder is going to have another calf. We're having twins! No wonder she was so big. Doc Potter never said a word." Glancing over at her father, Willow watched his rhythmic rattle and listened to his steady chants. Somehow she got the feeling he knew they weren't done before they did.
"Why isn't she loose with the other wild animals?" Brett grunted with an effort to pull.
Willow moved to stand beside him, ready to help. "You might say she's more of a pet than a wild animal. The boys have been playing with her for years. Now I'm grateful. Otherwise, this much human contact might have been a shock to her." She felt Brett’s body heat and found it unsettling.
"The boys shouldn't be anywhere near a buffalo, wild or not. They're unpredictable." He guided first the calf's head, then legs through the opening.
"If I'd felt the boys were in any danger, you can be sure I'd have taken action. Besides, the buffalo is looked upon as the animal given to our People by the Creator. The correct name is bison. In Blackfoot we say Enee , meaning bison."
Brett rolled his eyes upward, and she shook her head. She concentrated on her father's soft chanting and drew in the faint scent of the purifying sweetgrass , comforted by his presence, in spite of Brett's negativity.
"Grab hold, this one doesn't seem to be struggling too much. He may need some immediate attention." Brett rubbed his sleeve across the sweat that rolled down his forehead.
Willow grabbed a strip of cloth and wiped off his brow without thinking. The gesture seemed personal . . . too personal. Uneasy, she pretended a need to check out the boys, feeling his stare for only a few seconds. She stood and gripped the newborn's slimy legs. Brett lifted and she pulled. With a minimal amount of effort, together they brought another buffalo calf into the world.
Chapter Two
The newborn struggled to get to his feet, and then dropped to the ground.
"Yahoo!" Sean shouted, jumping with excitement.
" Kyai-yo !” Lance turned to his friend. "It means I am surprised."
"It doesn't look good, Brett." Willow glanced at him. In the distance sounded the warning grumble of thunder.
"Tell that old man to stop that noise! It's grinding on my nerves," Brett snapped, his disposition tense.
"He's my Grandfather. Apologize!" Lance shouted, his feet spread.
"I apologize, Antelope Tipi." Brett stated. "Looks like the kid has more grit than his old man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . I didn't . . . you know . . . the guy’s dead and all. It slipped―"
"Enough!" Willow said, and added under her breath, "The next time you make a statement like that in front of Lance, you'll be sorry."
Brett pumped with a hand bulb, sucking mucus out of the calf's mouth.
"Will he make it?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"He's breathing. Best I can do for now. We need to get the mother finished up, and then we'll see what more can be done."
Brett pressed here and there, and she realized he was helping Thunder pass the afterbirth. He seemed confident and knowing in his actions.
"How's Thunder doing?" Willow asked in a low, hushed tone.
"Some name for a wild buffalo," he stated, shaking his head.
While he stitched up her precious buffalo, he grew quiet, and she wondered what he was thinking. He must be hoping the ancient animal died. She couldn't forget how much he hated her buffalo.
"She's gone through a lot. I've done the best I can." He pulled a syringe from his case.
She looked at the needle, then at Brett. "What's that for?"
"Why? Think I'll slip something in it to kill her off anyway? You ever let up, or are you suspicious by nature?"
Baffled by his sudden attack, she felt her defenses rise. "I learned it from you. You suspect every move I make. What I can't
"Something’s wrong with Thunder, isn't there?" She inched closer for a better look.
"Not exactly. There's another calf." He pressed his hand in deeper.
"What? You've got to be kidding! Did you hear, boys? Thunder is going to have another calf. We're having twins! No wonder she was so big. Doc Potter never said a word." Glancing over at her father, Willow watched his rhythmic rattle and listened to his steady chants. Somehow she got the feeling he knew they weren't done before they did.
"Why isn't she loose with the other wild animals?" Brett grunted with an effort to pull.
Willow moved to stand beside him, ready to help. "You might say she's more of a pet than a wild animal. The boys have been playing with her for years. Now I'm grateful. Otherwise, this much human contact might have been a shock to her." She felt Brett’s body heat and found it unsettling.
"The boys shouldn't be anywhere near a buffalo, wild or not. They're unpredictable." He guided first the calf's head, then legs through the opening.
"If I'd felt the boys were in any danger, you can be sure I'd have taken action. Besides, the buffalo is looked upon as the animal given to our People by the Creator. The correct name is bison. In Blackfoot we say Enee , meaning bison."
Brett rolled his eyes upward, and she shook her head. She concentrated on her father's soft chanting and drew in the faint scent of the purifying sweetgrass , comforted by his presence, in spite of Brett's negativity.
"Grab hold, this one doesn't seem to be struggling too much. He may need some immediate attention." Brett rubbed his sleeve across the sweat that rolled down his forehead.
Willow grabbed a strip of cloth and wiped off his brow without thinking. The gesture seemed personal . . . too personal. Uneasy, she pretended a need to check out the boys, feeling his stare for only a few seconds. She stood and gripped the newborn's slimy legs. Brett lifted and she pulled. With a minimal amount of effort, together they brought another buffalo calf into the world.
Chapter Two
The newborn struggled to get to his feet, and then dropped to the ground.
"Yahoo!" Sean shouted, jumping with excitement.
" Kyai-yo !” Lance turned to his friend. "It means I am surprised."
"It doesn't look good, Brett." Willow glanced at him. In the distance sounded the warning grumble of thunder.
"Tell that old man to stop that noise! It's grinding on my nerves," Brett snapped, his disposition tense.
"He's my Grandfather. Apologize!" Lance shouted, his feet spread.
"I apologize, Antelope Tipi." Brett stated. "Looks like the kid has more grit than his old man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . I didn't . . . you know . . . the guy’s dead and all. It slipped―"
"Enough!" Willow said, and added under her breath, "The next time you make a statement like that in front of Lance, you'll be sorry."
Brett pumped with a hand bulb, sucking mucus out of the calf's mouth.
"Will he make it?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"He's breathing. Best I can do for now. We need to get the mother finished up, and then we'll see what more can be done."
Brett pressed here and there, and she realized he was helping Thunder pass the afterbirth. He seemed confident and knowing in his actions.
"How's Thunder doing?" Willow asked in a low, hushed tone.
"Some name for a wild buffalo," he stated, shaking his head.
While he stitched up her precious buffalo, he grew quiet, and she wondered what he was thinking. He must be hoping the ancient animal died. She couldn't forget how much he hated her buffalo.
"She's gone through a lot. I've done the best I can." He pulled a syringe from his case.
She looked at the needle, then at Brett. "What's that for?"
"Why? Think I'll slip something in it to kill her off anyway? You ever let up, or are you suspicious by nature?"
Baffled by his sudden attack, she felt her defenses rise. "I learned it from you. You suspect every move I make. What I can't
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