The Thunder Buffalo

The Thunder Buffalo

There was a final rain, many years before this story begins, that almost everyone took for granted because they had no clue it would be the last. The people of Thunder Valley grew bitter at the parched ground, for they had not taken the time to cherish the smell, the colors, and the sensations of a pouring sky. Their children grew up thirsty for water, but their parent’s longing descriptions of the rainy seasons of the past were all there was to quench the gargle of dry stomachs and the crack of parched lips. The fertile soil once yielded ample crops and grazing for livestock, but the years passed, and lives of people and animals with it. Thunder Valley shifted in a single season from green plains to brown and barren terrain. The people of thunder valley were forced to steadily migrate, and the only one who remained was a cattle herder who lived near a well, not quite dried up but hardly full.

One day, the herdsmen approached the well on his horse after a long day of tending to his harem of cattle, which once numbered in the dozens, and now maintained a shaky six. The herdsmen would ration well water for the cattle and take them searching for any parched plants which managed to escape the dry bowls of the underground, each day finding less and less. The cattle grew skinny and sickly with every sun and moon passing. The herdsman, whose name was Sky, wondered what it was that kept him there in Thunder Valley where the rain did not come and the grass did not grow…He looked at the herd, of which he depended, and felt a pang of hopelessness in his heart, followed by anger.

His anger was for the men the natives of Thunder Valley called the diggers. When the diggers came, they said they were there to spread knowledge, faith, and technology. They said they wished to make Sky’s people’s lives better…but every promise made was either entirely false or layered with intentional deceptions. The diggers told Sky’s people that they would show them the riches of the earth, to which Sky’s people expected some crop undiscovered, some further knowledge of the soil or the rain…they said riches and Sky’s people understood this for their own conception of riches, as the bounty of nature. But the men who’d arrived in white suits, were followed by others in mass who came to chase off the animals, uproot the fields of green, and dig up the earth, down, down, down they went, and Sky’s people waited, and waited for the finding of these promised riches…but the diggers emerged with their teeth showing, giddy like children at finding the glittering crystals of the underground which were certainly pretty…but Sky’s people hardly considered them riches, as they did not do anything but adorn the skin…they could not feed, heal, protect, warm and shelter…Where are the riches? The diggers were asked, and they were disappointed at the unenthusiastic faces of the native people who they assured were standing upon tons and tons of riches.

Sky’s people were not pleased, and they told the digging men that they should no longer uproot their valley to find the crystals, and the diggers smiles were replaced with grimaces and from their trucks, they retrieved weapons in place of their shovels and picks, and they told Sky’s people that the riches of the earth would be theirs, and they’d kill any of Sky’s people who got in the way, and this promise made clearly was kept. The blood of many of Sky’s people soaked into the earth at the hands of the diggers, and the earth itself was angered to such an extent that it withdrew its life-giving energy, and from then on refused the valley any rain.

Sky was very young when the last of the rains passed over the valley, and he could only remember flickering images of falling water, but he yearned as everyone did, for the clouds to burst open. For now, though, he settled into graciousness for his family’s well, which he approached as he would any other day, until he heard a sound from within. A calf’s cry. He rushed over to the well, and was shocked, because he knew his herd of cattle to be the only ones in the valley, and none had nursed calves in many years, but there at the bottom of the well was one, though he did not look like any calf he’d seen. It was blue…not grey, truly blue like a morning sky, with white and brown markings, and he hurriedly saved it from the well. He took it inside and dried it and warmed it up, looking over the fur of cobalt which stirred memories of an elder’s tale from long ago. About a spirit which was sometimes seen during thunderstorms, which took the form of a flying buffalo, which appeared to Sky’s people in their times of crisis.

He was told by many that the story was only a myth, a story for camp fires, but as he looked at the calf he could not help but wonder…He took the calf and paired it with a cow who might look after it and have her nursing induced, though he had no clue how he would feed it, and he went to sleep until the next morning when he woke to an astounding surprise. He saw, all around the perimeter of his house, green grass, and his cattle grazing upon it, looking as healthy as he’d ever seen them, the calf nursing from the full udders of the cow. Sky thought perhaps he was dreaming, but was sure he was not, and he thought back to the stories of the thunder buffalo…

His astonishment was not long indulged however, because it was not long before he saw the coming of the diggers, arriving to inspect the phenomenon of growth. They’d been sure to soil these lands so no one could get in the way of their mining, and they did not like the greenery of the property when their own houses were as barren and fruitless as the rest. The head of the diggers, in his white suit came to see, and he noticed the calf after many seasons of no cattle births and though he did not understand the phenomenon, he concluded that the sudden growth had to do with the calf. He went to Sky’s door and proposed to buy the calf, but Sky’s intuition was strong, and he had good reason to mistrust the diggers, so he told the man no. The man offered Sky many crystals in exchange, and Sky was disturbed at how the digger truly seemed to not understand why the offer did not appeal to him. The crystals would not bring the rains, would not sustain his cattle…they were not riches…and the diggers were collectively puzzled, because they considered themselves very wealthy and remarkable. They felt they deserved the adoration and submission of the people of Thunder Valley for their knowledge deemed advanced…and there was Sky, spitting on their own high perceptions of themselves. Sky saw in the digger’s eyes that they were very offended, but they did not move to action. Instead, they said alright, and told him to consider their offer further.

Sky was no fool though, and he knew the violent ways of the diggers. He knew they were likely to wait until nightfall to come and take the calf which Sky would not sell, so, close to sunset when there was enough light to make a way, but little enough to not be noticed, Sky saddled his horse and carried the blue calf in his arms. He rode to the base of a holy mountain, where elders had always spoken of spiritual congregations at its peak. He began to hike up when he heard shouting from below…the diggers had managed to follow him still. He quickened his pace up the mountain as the diggers followed with their deadly intentions. Up and up, he went, and with every step he took, the clouds above swirled and swelled, and thunder began to boom as lightning flashed. He kept going until he got to the peak of the mountain, where he placed the calf down, and place his body between it and the diggers who soon appeared. He stood his ground, though he was without weapons of his own…he was after all only a herdsmen and it was not in his people’s nature to be violent. However, he had something the diggers did not, faith. Sky knew the power of spirit, he knew the land itself, and that he was connected to it in a way the diggers were not. He stood without fear as the diggers charged and vowed in that moment that if they wanted the calf, they’d have to take his life. Just as the diggers were coming upon Sky, thunder boomed and rocked the mountain knocking the men off their feet, before the clouds opened and released a tendril of lightning which crashed down and struck the calf. Sky cried out, horrified that the calf was meeting such a terrible fate, but he could not see, for the lightning was so bright as it flashed, the change occurring. He covered his eyes to keep from blindness until the lightning ceased, and he opened them to a sight he could not believe. The calf was no more, and in his place was an adult buffalo, a bull corded with muscles and armed with pointed horns. The diggers stood and foolishly prepared to attack again, but the buffalo charged, moving with speed Sky’s eyes could barely process, and with quick thrusts of his neck, the thunder buffalo knocked the diggers from the mountain top toward their deaths. The buffalo turned and came before Sky, bowing his head in thanks before leaping into the air, his form glowing as his body became like one mass of lightning, and he thundered ahead through the air, in the direction of the mines.

Sky, in shock and disbelief, climbed down the mountain, mounted his horse, and raced back to town. He rushed to the giant pit in the earth where the diggers mined their crystals, and saw that it had all been destroyed, every station, every building, the structure of the pit had collapsed into an unrecognizable mass of dirt as all around the storm still raged thunder and lightning. The diggers were no where to be found, only the charred remains of their houses and the burnt smell of smoke and burning. The Thunder Buffalo had come and lain waste to the diggers and their riches.

As Sky looked at the pit, he felt it, the unfamiliar prickle of a cool droplet on his head, followed by another, and another, until the clouds began to pour down water. Rain came down in terrific splendor, and Sky wept for the miracle of water, and the sensation which had only ever been described in ways that did not do it justice. He dropped to his knees and kissed the earth, and as the days went on, the grass returned, and so did the animals, and all of Sky’s people who’d migrated away. For many years, and generations to come, Sky’s descendants would hear the story of the Thunder Buffalo, and how it saved their valley. Not a myth, but a testimony.