Plenty Proud

by Jeanie P Johnson

  When the hunters were ready to leave, the bravest warriors rode out first, twelve abreast, leading the hunt, and anyone who dared go ahead of them would be knocked off of their horses. There was a certain order that everyone had to obey. Those stepping out of place, always regretted it, since they would be severely punished, and sometimes killed if they caused the heard to stampede before the hunters could approach it. Then the hunters, riding five abreast followed. And after that, all the women, who came to help skin the buffalo, followed in the rear, pulling a travois behind their horse to transport the meat back to the village, when the time came.

  As they got closer to the herd, the chief of the hunt went about picking out the best hunters with the fastest horses in the group. To these he said, “Good young hunters, my relatives, your work I know is good. What you do is good always; so today you shall feed the helpless. Perhaps there are some old and feeble people without sons, or some who have little children and no man. You shall help these, and whatever you kill shall be theirs. It is a great honor for young men to help those in need.”

  Ahead, the group could see a huge herd of buffalo, there were so many it was turning the golden prairieland black, looking like a huge, rolling, black wave in the distance. As they came near, where the buffalo were, the hunters started circling around the herd. The cry went up, as in a battle, “Hoka hey!” which meant to charge. A great cloud of dust was stirred up as the horses started to stampede towards the buffalo, which were also beginning to run as the group approached them.

  Mackenzie took in her breath as she watched the hunters, riding their horses at full speed, not even touching the single rein, which led from their mount’s mouth. As the hunter’s horses took off, leaping forward, her own horse, which must be used to participating in the hunt, rather than pulling a travois, started to leap forward as well, almost unseating Makenzie. Only she knew how to seat a horse, and got the well-trained pony in check once again. Little Bird frowned. The girl was too good a rider to fall off her horse so easily. Maybe the Great Spirit was not on her side after all!

  Now Mackenzie turned her attention to the hunters again. Their bows were stretched taut with arrows, and the braves rode right up to the sides of the buffalo, crouching down alongside their horse, shooting the arrow into the buffalo’s side behind their front leg. The arrows went deep, right up to the feathers, and some arrows that were not deflected by a bone, ran straight through, as it pierced the heart or lung, which meant certain death to the animal. They called it ‘shooting the soft part of the buffalo’.

  Sometimes, if the arrow did not make its mark, the brave would reach out and retrieve it from the beast, regardless of the risk in doing so. Because it was a misplaced arrow, if any of the women, skinning the buffalo, found the arrow with the brave’s symbol on it that was not a killing shot, he would be sure to hear what a bad aim he was from the outspoken women. Each brave wished to be considered a great hunter and honored by the rest of the tribe so they would go to all lengths to prove their bravery and skill. Being put down by a woman was a dishonor too great to withstand! Because of this, the young hunters worked hard to improve their skills. Also, when seeking a wife, they knew a woman would not agree to become their wife if their hunting or fighting skills were lacking. How embarrassing it would be if a woman a brave favored found one of his arrows in the wrong place on the buffalo. He would lose face and never be able to live it down, or show his face to the woman again. To make up for his bad aim, at least he could replace it with bravery by retrieving the arrow from the buffalo on the run.

  Although, watching the hunt enthralled Mackenzie, her heart would stop beating, each time she saw Plenty Proud in a precarious position of danger, as he took risk after risk to kill the stampeding buffalo, a shot at a time. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, his long hair streaking behind him in the wind, the sun glistening on his damp skin, his muscles rippling as he controlled his mount with his legs and whipped arrow, after arrow out of his quiver on his back, almost faster than her eye could grasp. He rode from one downed buffalo to attack the next, until his quiver was empty, and the other hunters were at the end of their supply of arrows as well.

  The rest of the herd disappeared in the same cloud of dust they arrived in, and now the job of skinning and transporting meat began, as the braves rested from their work and the women took over. Mackenzie sat on her horse, watching Little Bird jump down to attack her job of skinning the huge beast. She glanced up at Mackenzie and gave her a sly smile.

  “Lazy, white girl, don’t just sit there! You were given a knife, start using it!”

  Makenzie had skinned and fleshed out hides before, but they were all hides of small animals. She had never faced anything of this magnitude, she realized, as she looked over the trampled prairie grass littered with carcasses of dead buffalo. She didn’t even know where they were expected to begin.

  Little Bird frowned at her, and she jumped down to watch Little Bird show her how it was supposed to be done. Now it was Little Bird’s turn to show her skills, and it put Mackenzie to shame when she watched as Little Bird tackled the huge lump of flesh with her sharp knife, cutting the hide away from the muscle, using ropes tied to the buffalo’s legs to turn the creature over, with the help of her horse, working fast and efficiently. It made Mackenzie feel inadequate in her limited skill at removing hides. She suddenly had to admit to herself she would make a horrible Indian, let alone a worthy wife to any brave, not that she wished to marry one, but the thought sobered her. She paused at thinking about being a wife to a brave, as she glanced over at Plenty Proud, who was sitting on his pony, watching her and Little Bird. Why did the thought even enter her head? She certainly felt attracted to the Indian brave, even if the desire of becoming a wife to any Indian was the farthest thing from her mind.

  Little Bird knew that Plenty Proud was watching her, and now it was her turn to impress him, not with her beauty, but with her ability to make him a good wife. She glanced over at the white girl, who had just slowly begun hacking away at a very small buffalo making her first attempt to skin one of the beasts. A laugh rippled up inside of her, thinking how inexperienced and clumsy the girl was at the job. Plenty Proud would realize that and regardless of his infatuation with her unusually pretty face, the white girl had nothing to offer him.

  Plenty Proud was impressed with the effort Firelight was making to pull her weight with the skinning. He had not expected her to work. She knew nothing about a buffalo hunt. He knew she had probably worked for the trapper, and he could tell by the way she held her knife, she knew what to do with it, but skinning a buffalo was a far cry from skinning beavers, and small woodland animals. Still, she did not hesitate to work at it, even if she was making slow progress. This would probably be her first and last experience at participating in a hunt, if he were to take her back to her people. It made him wish she could stay longer, just so he could see how well she adapted to his kind of lifestyle.

  He glanced over at Little Bird. He could tell she was a good worker, and she was making a point to do her best and work fast, only he could see through her efforts that her main objective was to outshine Firelight. How could Firelight expect to compete with Little Bird’s practiced skill? She wasn’t even supposed to be skinning the buffalo. She was supposed to be a guest!

  Considering that Firelight had little experience with skinning buffalo, what she was accomplishing, seemed to Plenty Proud to be greater than what Little Bird was accomplishing. And the difference was that Firelight knew her limitations. She was not trying to compete, but merely get the job done. She was humble and was not attempting to outshine Little Bird. That was the draw that pulled at him, he realized. It was her caring heart and her willingness to work that attracted him, on top of her beauty.

  She didn’t even act like she was aware of her beauty. She must have some subtle connection to his people since she had even chosen to wear an Indian dress than trade for one of her own kind of dresses, he thought. There was a hidden spirit with
in this fire-headed woman that continued to intrigue Plenty Proud, and he was determined to discover it. He was happy that she would be staying at his village longer than expected. It would give him time to get to know her better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mackenzie spread the buffalo hide on the travois, fur side down. Then she began cutting the meat form the buffalo, and placing it on top of the hide. Little Bird told her what else to save, besides the meat, which was practically all the rest of the buffalo. She explained to Mackenzie the various uses for each buffalo part.

  They took the skull for ceremonies, scrotums were to use for sacred rattles, stomach contents for medicine, and the lining to use as a pouch for carrying water and for cooking stew inside of then eating the stomach along with it as well. The hooves and feet would be made into glue, or used for rattles, sinews for bows, thread, arrows, cinches, tails used for medicine switch or fly brushes. Bones were made into knife handles, the ribs became arrowheads. Other bones were made into shovels, some bones used for splints, others used on winter sleds or made into saddle trees. They were used as war clubs, the hip bone as paint brushes, ribs used for scrapers to flesh out the hide, and they even made dice from smaller bones to use in their games. Then, there were the horns, which were used for cups, fire carriers, powder-horns, spoons, ladles, headdresses and even toys. Different parts of the hide were used for different types of needs ranging from clothes, covers for tepees, lance covers, buffalo robes, drums, ropes, saddles, saddle blankets, horse masks, and many other uses too numerous to remember.

  Once the hide was filled with the meat and other parts of the buffalo, Mackenzie folded it over and tied it securely, to keep the contents safe, and climbed upon the black horse.

  “I will ride with you back to the village. Afterwards I want to show you something,” Plenty Proud told Mackenzie as he came up beside her on his horse.

  Mackenzie looked down at her bloody hands. Her nails were encrusted with a combination of flesh and dirt, sweat was running down the sides of her face, and her hair was matted and soaking in perspiration as well. She needed a break and the ride back to the village was a welcome relief to give her a chance to catch her breath. She knew there were many more buffalo to skin and cut up. She didn’t know if she was up for the task. Plenty Proud also looked as tired as she felt, but there was a certain excitement in his eyes, and she knew he was eager to show her something special. She wanted to please him, so she nodded and smiled.

  Little Bird looked up as the two rode away together. It was not customary for a brave to help the women with their chores, so she wondered why Plenty Proud wished to ride back with Mackenzie to deposit her load at the village. There, other women would take over, sorting out different parts of the buffalo and setting each pile aside to be transformed into whatever they needed it for. Then they would slice some of the meat into thin strips that would be placed on a drying rack to turn into jerky, and the rest would be stored in a cool place to be cooked for the tribe for the next few days. It did not take long for the meat to spoil, and if they did not dry it or eat it right away, it would be wasted. Later, when the buffalo meat dwindled, they would hunt smaller game for fresh meat. The hides would all be rolled up, ready to flesh out and then tan later, once the major job of cutting the meat into strips to dry was finished.

  Once Mackenzie’s load was taken from the travois, Plenty Proud guided her back towards the hunting ground.

  “What is it that you wish to show me?” she asked curiously.

  “Eagle Eye waiting for us. He guards it for me,” Plenty Proud told her, giving her a mischievous smile. “It something you never see before. It very rare and sacred,” he assured her. When we arrive, I give you special honor,” he promised.

  Mackenzie blinked, wondering what Plenty Proud had in store for her to see and what kind of honor he was speaking of. As they approached the hunting ground, where many of the buffalo had already been skinned and carted away, she could see a lone Indian brave standing at a distance beside a huge form. It did not look like the other buffalo, and at first, Mackenzie wondered what it was. As they got closer, she could see that it was a fallen buffalo Eagle Eye stood beside, but it was unlike any buffalo she had ever seen before.

  “This is sacred, white, buffalo,” Plenty Proud explained to her, as she got down from her horse and took a closer look. Its coat was a whitish-yellow color and it was larger than most buffalo. Then she remembered having seen Plenty Proud shooting the strange buffalo, but hadn’t had time to wonder about it. “I shoot buffalo myself,” Plenty Proud informed her. “It is great honor. It is a sign from Wakan-Tanka I am blessed. No harm can come to me or any that I protect.” He gave Mackenzie a knowing stare. “Because of this, I give you honor of skinning it, so it protect you too. Then you not worry when I take you down river. When tribe sees me with white buffalo skin, I am honored among my friends. It will be displayed in my family’s lodge, to bless them and give them great honor. My family will be proud of me.” He beamed brightly at her.

  “Shouldn’t you have Little Bird doing this?” Mackenzie asked. “She’s so much better at it than I am. I thought she was the woman you are supposed to take as your wife. Wouldn’t you want her to have this honor so she will be protected by the sacred, white buffalo?”

  Plenty Proud could not believe the generosity that Firelight was showing towards Little Bird. It was a testament of her pure heart, he thought. It drew him all the closer to her.

  “The Great Wakan-Tanka gave me sign I was chosen to help you. Killing sacred buffalo is another sign that I choose right to protect and help you. I not wish you to leave me and go back to your people, but I do whatever the one I love wishes me to do.”

  “Are you saying you love me?” Mackenzie gasped, taken back by his words.

  “I know we are connected in ways I have no understanding of. You were brought to me for reasons I know not why. I only know when I look upon your face, my heart wishes to be near your heart.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” Mackenzie whispered. “I am a white girl. You are a Sioux Indian. I must return to my people, never to see you again.”

  “Even though I know you must leave me, my heart only cries for you. I will take you to your people to make the one I love happy.”

  “This is unbelievable! Why would you even want to love me, knowing I must leave, and even if I stayed…”

  “Do you wish to stay?” he asked anxiously, starting to have a glimmer of hope spring within him. “If you stay I will honor you for evermore!”

  “You are confusing me! I can’t stay. I am not cut out to be an Indian. This honor you give me is misplaced!”

  “Only I give it freely. Take honor. Skin sacred buffalo, to give me small pleasure in honoring you this way.”

  “My friend speaks the truth,” Eagle Eye offered. “I have seen the way he looks at you with eyes he does not have for Little Bird. Take this honor. I, as his friend, wish to see him happy.”

  “You must be a true friend,” Mackenzie murmured, meeting his eyes and liking the young brave for his loyalty to Plenty Proud. “Therefore, I will do it for both of you.”

  Mackenzie took her knife from its sheath, and began the job of skinning the sacred white buffalo, as the two braves watched on in silent reverence. She knew she was taking too much time, but she wanted to be sure she did everything correctly, not to mar the hide in any way as she performed the task. When she was finally finished, she felt spent and exhausted, not only because of the labor involved, but because of all the emotions that were coursing through her body. Every time she looked up, seeing Plenty Proud’s eyes watching her, her heart took a leap, and her mind was filled with all the times she had been near him during their journey to his village. He had a kind of power over her, she could not explain. She didn’t want to try. She merely wanted to bask in its comfort.

  Mackenzie wrapped the white buffalo skin around its contents and secured it on the travois. Then Plenty Proud placed her on the black horse, and climb
ed up on Fly Away. “Come, we take sacred buffalo to my mother to care for. She and my family are honored when we eat meat together and give some to poor. Chief of tribe will honor me for my accomplishment. It is a good sign. You have brought luck to my tribe.”

  Mackenzie merely shrugged. She couldn’t imagine how she could bring them luck. She had had nothing but back luck since she came out there to join her father. Now the only friend she had was a Sioux Indian that wanted to honor her when she didn’t even deserve it. Only she was too tired to object to his claims, so she smiled in gratitude. All she could think of was a bath in the river, and lying under the warm buffalo robes in Plenty Proud’s family tepee.

  Mackenzie watched as Plenty Proud presented the white buffalo to his mother to make use of. The pride in his mother’s eyes was unmistakable. She gave her son a hug, and glanced at Mackenzie, standing beside the black horse, holding its lead.

  “My son has honored you by allowing you to skin the sacred buffalo,” she murmured. “He tells me you have good heart. I hope you feel welcome here in our village. Do not fear us. We only wish you safety.”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Thank you,” she mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

  “Come,” Plenty Proud said, offering Mackenzie his hand. “We put horses out to graze, and then we go to river and bathe.”

  “Mackenzie knew it was probably too early to bathe, but it was the way that Plenty Proud was telling her she did not have to go back to the hunting ground to work any longer.

  The other women would continue their labor at the hunting ground, but they were used to the hard work. Plenty Proud considered Firelight more of a guest than a member of the village. He had not expected Little Bird to make her skin the buffalo, which made him frown. Little Bird was not being gracious towards his guest. She was merely there as a guest to watch the ways of the Sioux. Yet Firelight had shown her willingness to help them with the hunt, which pleased him. She was not the lazy girl Little Bird tried to convince him she was when Firelight did not rise early to bathe before going on the hunt.