chosen this time especially to police the hunt, made sure that everyone stayed in line. They would surround the herd, and timing was crucial. If anyone broke cover too soon, it could stampede the animals before all the hunters were in place. Such a man would have to answer to the
akicitas,
and his punishment could be severe.
Sitting Bull pointed out a cow and her calf on the fringes of the herd. “You should take a calf first, Jumping Badger. If all goes well, then maybe next time you can go after a cow.”
The boy nodded, never taking his eyes off the two buffalo. Dropping to one knee, Sitting Bull continued. “Come in from behind, so the calf doesn’t see you, and approach from the right side. If you can get your pony almost even, you will have a clear shot. Draw your bow fully, and aim for the shoulder. If you hit it right, you will get the heart or the lungs. But make sure you have control of your pony, and make sure you don’t get between the calf and the cow. The cow will try to protect her calf, and if you are busy watching the calf, you cannot watch the cow. That is a sure way to get yourself in trouble.”
Again, Slow nodded. He thought about asking a few questions, but knew that Sitting Bull had already thought through what he wanted to say, and he would have missed nothing that Slow needed to know. Interrupting with questions would just waste time and distract his father. He was too anxious to join the hunt, barely able to restrain himself as it was.
Sitting Bull continued, “The bulls are the most dangerous. They are almost as fast as your pony, and they can change direction quickly. If a bull spots you and decides to charge, don’t think that you can bring him down. You are not ready for that, and before you realize it, it will be too late. He will be on you. Never drift into the middle of the herd, because you can’t watch every direction at one time. If the calf you are after heads toward the middle of the herd, let it go and find another. As long as you keep to the outside edge, there will always be another target for you.”
Two huge bulls had lowered their heads, and once again the thunderous crack of their collision reverberated through the valley. It was rutting season, and the bulls were competing for female attention. Other bulls were pairing off, and more duels began. But the buffalo seemed to have short attention spans, and the fights ended almost as soon as they began. Two or three rushes seemed to settle matters, and one bull or another would amble off, its tail flicking at flies, none the worse for wear, while the victor turned his attention back to the business of grazing.
“Are you ready?” Sitting Bull asked.
Slow was anxious to get started, but he wasn’t sure he was ready. His father sensed the uncertainty. “No one is ready the first time, Slow,” he said. “A wise man knows when he should be cautious. It is only natural that you hesitate, but you cannot hesitate forever. I would not send you down there if I did not think you were ready. Understand?”
Slow nodded. He was pleased that his father had confidence in him, and it bolstered his determination. “I am ready,” he said. But his voice sounded less certain than his words.
Sitting Bull knew that he could not wait much longer for fear Slow would lose his nerve. Besides, there was his obligation to the others to be considered, and one man’s son was nothing when measured against the general welfare. He said, “Let’s get on our horses. We have to circle around the valley and get to the other side, where the others are waiting for us.” Without waiting for an answer, he moved to his horse and swung aboard, reining in while he waited for Slow to mount his gray pony.
When the boy was mounted, Sitting Bull nudged his horse back downhill a few yards, staying below the ridgeline. It would reduce the chances of spooking the buffalo. The packhorses trailed behind him in a single line. It took fifteen minutes to reach the