I caught up to the blood trail in a small , wooded area. There was steam and I knew that whatever was losing blood was close. I slowly moved into the brush, pushing aside blood stained branches as I went. Closer and closer. I stopped. I could hear labored breathing now. A small patch of willows between me and the wounded. I pushed the willows aside. There, before me stood a buffalo. A spear, through her side. A lot of blood at her feet. She looked at me, as if to say, I will run no more. I walked out and stared at her. She was a magnificent animal. Twice the size of any man, she stood proud with what little strength she had. Understand this. I was not the one that caused her such an injury but I had followed the blood. Somehow, she knew this and wasnt afraid of me. I slowly walked up to her. Grandmother, I did not do this to you, I said to her. She let out a burst of air from her nose. I will remove the spear, I said and grasped the shaft. She bellowed as I started to pull the spear. I stopped. She looked into my eyes for the longest time. Then suddenly, as I still gripped the spear, pushed towards it, driving it deeper. She let out a final breath and slowly, slumped to the ground. As she lay there, she began to transform. Where once a buffalo sat, a thousand butterflies took its place. They began to flap their wings and in a flash of yellows and blacks and browns, were flying in the sky. In seconds, they were gone. I held the spear for a moment before snapping it in half and throwing it away. I didnt see a hunter looking for the buffalo as I traveled, I wouldnt have said anything anyway. I looked to the south and continued on.
Posted on: Sat, 30 Aug 2014 02:25:41 +0000
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