Read Online Buffalo Medicine by Don Coldsmith - Free Book Online Page B

wary. The Old Man, when approached unexpectedly or too rapidly, would retreat into his own confused world, and babble to the spirits which possessed him, sometimes for hours. Owl had become very cautious about approaching other prisoners too abruptly.
    There was a long silence, then the other man finally spoke softly.
    â€œYou are of the People?” he asked timidly. Owl nodded eagerly.
    â€œI am Owl, son of Heads Off, of the Elk-dog band.”
    â€œAnd I am, or was, of the Red Rocks. My name, Long Bow.” He formed the words hesitantly, from long disuse.
    â€œHave there been others of the People here?” Owl pressed.
    â€œOh, yes, my friend. Most have been killed trying to escape.”
    â€œHave you tried?”
    â€œOf course. It brought me this the last time.” He held his right hand forward, fingers spread. There was no thumb.
    The significance sank through to Owl. Without a right thumb one could not handle weapons. Enough to hunt, perhaps, although clumsily, but not with enough proficiency to engage in combat. Or, to escape, Owl realized. One would need every skill to escape from the Hairfaces’ strong medicine.
    â€œI can still carry the sacks,” continued Long Bow, smiling in grim humor. Owl was later to realize the significance of the remark.
    The two talked a long while. It was pleasant to hear one’s own tongue again. Long Bow had been stolen from the Red Rocks band when a young man. The Head Splitters had kept him for one winter, and then traded him to the Mud Lodge people. They had in turn sold him to
the Hairfaces. There had been several of the young People originally, now all dead. He had seen two of them killed in escape attempts, and the others never returned. The Hairfaces always announced to the other prisoners that the fugitives had been killed.
    â€œJust as I would do,” Owl nodded. Perhaps escape was possible, and their captors concealed any such successful attempts.
    â€œNo,” Long Bow shook his head, “I think not. The Old Man,” he gestured at the pitiful babbling creature, “has escaped many times. He is always caught by the Mud Lodge people or someone, and brought back.”
    Still, Owl thought it possible that there were escapees unaccounted for. His spirits rose a little.
    He told Long Bow of his initial encounter with their captors, and his expectation of welcome into their tribe. The other man’s mouth dropped open in shocked horror.
    â€œThat is why El Gato has a special hate for you,” he mused. “Of course! To them, you are a half-breed.” He glanced around apprehensively. “I think El Gato is probably of mixed blood.” He hesitated again. “You will understand, my friend, if I do not wish to be seen with you too much?” He edged away and sat down some distance from Owl.
    Nevertheless, they occasionally found opportunity to talk. Owl brought the other the general news of the People since the time of Long Bow’s capture. He already knew of the death of Hump Ribs, chief of the Elk-dog band, in the Great Battle, but it was shortly after that he had been captured. Was old Many Robes, real-chief of all the bands of the People, still alive?
    â€œOh, yes,” Owl assured him, “he goes on and on. He was old when my father first came to the People.”
    Long Bow nodded. “Is there talk of who might be the next real-chief?”
    Owl shook his head. “I think the People are happy and
rich enough since the Great Battle, they do not worry about who is real-chief. I had heard nothing, at least until I left.” He explained the circumstances of his departure, now over a year ago, and his quest for the medicine vision.
    â€œ Aiee , you are a medicine man? It is bad that you should come to this!”
    â€œIt is bad, my friend, that anyone should come to this,” Owl answered firmly.
    Long Bow was able to give much information about the purpose of their captivity. This was, he