White Buffalo Moon

Breasts, heavy with the promise of wholesome milk, almost rested on the swollen belly of Summer Blossom, as she jogged along the path that was lighted only by the raging fire behind her. She kept her dark eyes on the ground, hands cupped under the belly that held her unborn child, fearful that one wrong step could cause a fall, possibly to cost her the child's life. It was bad enough that she was now one without a man. Her husband, Three Trees, had been killed protecting her and his brother, Dark Wolf, allowing them time to escape the soldiers that had attacked the small encampment.

Summer Blossom's tribe had been seeking out the buffalo that were reported to be somewhere in the vicinity. How it happened that the soldiers had come upon them was a mystery. There had been no reports from the scouts that there had been any sightings of soldiers while searching for the expected herds of buffalo that made their annual trek through the vast praires. Perhaps they too had been seeking out the buffalo.

Summer Blossom paused to let her eyes adjust to the ever darkening path leading to the hidden sod cache her people had built for future hunting parties. It was used to store the nutritous buffalo meat that would be smoked for the duration of the hunt. She had long lost sight of Dark Wolf. Pausing to catch her breath, she strained her eyes and ears to pick up any small sign of the boy. Inwardly, Summer smiled. Dark Wolf's skills at stalking were vastly improving.

The dry crackle of plains grass let her know he was near, or so she had hoped it was him. Her mind was eased when the perfectly imitated clucking of a prairie chicken signaled the direction for her to move in. With mincing steps forward, Summer abruptly stopped as a wave of tightness gripped her belly. Her womb contracted with the first signs of impending labor, along with the hot gush of amniotic fluid down her thighs, soaking the fringe of the soft antelope dress. She did her best to stifle the whimper that passed through her lips, but it was enough to bring Dark Wolf quickly to her side.

"What is it, Summer?" he asked, his face was ashen, fear in his young eyes that noted the puddle at her feet. "The baby, it is making its way into the world?"

Summer could only nod, labor was coming too quickly, as wave after wave of contractions wracked her trembling body.

"Come," Dark Wolf spoke, sliding strong arms about her for support, "The smoking hut is very near."

As the words left his lips, the clouds parted to reveal the silvered, full moon that hung in the sky like a smooth white stone. In its light the two were able to find their way to the hut, its entrance gaping darkly from one side of the humped mound. The youthful warrior helped the laboring woman to the floor of the hut. He was greatly concerned for his brother's wife and the unborn babe. Her face contorting with pain, only heightened his concerns.

Summer panted shallowly like her mother had told her. She had learned many secrets to the process of birthing when she first shared the good news with the woman who had given birth to her. She was amazed how well such a simple thing worked. It eased her pain enough to tell Dark Wolf what she would need him to do.

"You have...your knife...Dark Wolf?" she asked between puffs of breath. When he removed it from his rawhide boot to show her, she continued, "We will...need some...sinew to tie off...the life cord...and something to swaddle him...in."

Dark Wolf wasted no time searching about the large hut in the faded moonlight. Summer Blossom propped herself up against a rough hewn beam, hiking the hem of her dress up to her hips so she could draw her knees up, settling herself into a birthing position. Modesty was put aside, though generally, a birth was attended by the women of the tribe and the medicine woman, not some untried brave who still hadn't even had his rites of manhood.

Dark Wolf discreetly kept his eyes averted from the woman's secret patch, color high on his cheekbones. His curiousity would be quelled soon enough when he would have to do the unthinkable task of guiding this new life into the world.

Summer motioned to him to hurry, biting off the urge to scream with a particularly painful contraction, tears filling her doe brown eyes. When she finally did let out a long keening, he rushed over to her, a long strip of buffalo sinew and an odd shaped piece of tanned hide clutched tightly in his shaking hands. His eyes cast about the large shelter, finding a thin piece of bone, he held it before her mouth for her to bite down upon.

"Hush, Summer Blossom! You will bring the soldiers to us!" his fear filled eyes lifted to the entrance, expecting to see one of the blue clad soldiers standing there, turning a rifle onto them. He ran to the door, pulling the heavy buffalo pelt that served as a door down, cutting off the moonlight.

But Summer could not stop her screams, her hands grabbed her knees as she automatically began to bear down, the baby having slipped into the birth canal. Dark Wolf was now begging her to stop screaming.

At that moment, there came a low rumbling that grew louder and louder, the ground shaking with thousands upon thousands of cloven hooves, followed up with bellows and snorts. It almost sounded like the stampede would over run the sod formed shelter.

Then all went silent.

The silence was broken by the whimpering cry of the baby.

"Summer Blossom! You have a fine strong son!" Dark Wolf announced, placing the child on the now flattening belly of his brother's wife. His eyes were moist with tears; he had at first hand witnessed the miracle of life. He carefully tied the umbilical cord close to the child's belly in two places with the sinew and cut between them. He finished the process of gently pulling out the afterbirth, following the directions given him.

Summer had her own tears for the squirming newborn, still coated with the thick creamy substance that protected it in the womb. She cuddled and cooed to the infant to sooth its birth cries, not wanting to draw attention to their small haven.

A stirring at the entrance cause both Indians to freeze. Even the child goes quiet. Dark Wolf holds out the wicked looking skinning knife in front of him in a defensive gesture.

The skin is pushed aside by the shaggy head of a buffalo. It is not just any buffalo, but the White Buffalo himself. The big bull examines the people with large, curious eyes, head held close enough to the ground that his breathing sends up small puffs of dust. Man and beast stay this way for what seems an eternity.

Slowly, Summer Blossom got to her feet, respectfully bowing her head to the noble beast, holding her new son out at arms length. She considered it a great honor that the birth of her child would have the auspicious presence of the great white buffalo.

The bull stretched his thick neck as far in to the enclosure as the doorway allowed, snuffling at the tiny baby. After a few seconds, he drew his head back, giving what looked like a nod of approval with his huge wooly head and withdrew. For the rest of the night, the white bull stood sentinel in front of the hut, his herd milling around him serenely grazing on the dry plain grasses.

Dark Wolf still squat down, watching this miracle in awe. It was a story he would relate for the remainder of his life; one he would tell to his wide eyed grandchildren in the years to come...the story of the birth of his brother's son, White Buffalo Moon.

Many of the tribe had miraculously survived that hapless night, also finding amnesty among the herd that appeared like a divine intervention from their gods. Those who died at the hands of the soldiers were mourned and their souls given up to the great spirit of the white buffalo.

As for the soldiers, it was their own search for the buffalo that had brought them upon the camp of the hunting party. They never found the escaped Indians. With the appearance of the buffalo herd, they called off the search, reluctant to send the beasts stampeding off. They would never know of the miracle that had occurred.