Chapter 4 - The Dangers of Fire and Water

The days passed from one to the next for a while after her dream. Each day as the herd moved on Rise hoped their path would take them further west and, for a time, it did. The mountains grew steadily closer though their misty-blue forms were still days away.

Rise spent her time seeking out the highest points she could find to give her the best view of the lands to the west. She spent hours smelling the winds that were always blowing across the prairie.

“What is that smell?” She would ask her earth-mother.

The great cow’s head would raise to the wind and she would draw in deep breaths for a moment.

“Its a muskrat by the river.” She would finally reply. Or, a hawk’s lunch, a broken tree, a fox in the grass, and many other things that existed on the prairies, until finally she or the other earth-brothers Rise questioned would grow irritated at the fawn’s ceaseless quest for knowledge and shoo her away.

Still, Rise managed to learn the smells of many other things, and learned how to separate the scents in the air even better than the buffalo’s strong noses. She began to see the world around her even when her keen eyes could not reach the places she smelled. Her searching now carried her farther and farther from her earth-mother’s side each day as she sought out the smells she could not identify. Old quail eggs, river-mint, herons by the water’s edge.

The other calves thought her silly for spending so much time with her nose to the wind. Many of them made fun of her more than ever for her differences, for though they would never admit it they were jealous of her swift graceful form and tiny nose that could smell much further than their own.

Their taunts Rise had learned to ignore. Rabbit ears, long-nose, stick-legs. These were names she could tolerate, for she could not change what she was. Their bullying she could usually avoid as well, being so much lighter and faster than the other calves she could dart and swerve where their already-bulky limbs could only blunder. This only fueled their animosity towards her though, Rise knew.

Her brother-calf disliked her most of them all. Even if their taunts were something Rise could brush off quickly, he had a great deal harder time with them. The bullies of the herd would pick on him when they could not reach Rise. Because of this he would often bully her as they drank from their earth-mother and Rise was forced to supplement the milk with what tender browse she could find or go hungry.

As the summer heat rolled over the plains the days grew hot and dry. The buffalo began to wander in search of fresh water to drink and the mountains ceased drawing closer. Rise began having to spend more of her time browsing for green food to eat, since the grasses became dry and stiff. Her strong sense of smell helped her greatly, but she would often share her finds with Old Gray-hump who was one of her few real friends in the herd. He too was not as close a part of the herd anymore, his age leaving him slower and his old eyes less able to see. The other members of the herd respected his great age and wisdom, but they knew that like all the cycles in nature his own was drawing to its close.

He was still strong enough that he could chase away the calves that bullied Rise when she strayed out on her searches for scent, and he didn’t seem to mind being on the edges of the herd the way her earth-mother did.

“Here are some tender shoots.” Rise would say, pawing at the ground to get the old one’s attention. Old Gray-hump would sniff his great nose over the grasses and give her a grateful wuffle on the head, taking in her refreshing scent that always brought back to his mind vivid memories of the dawn.

“Thank you, little one. Have you had some yourself?” He would say before beginning his grazing. The two of them would nibble away whatever Rise could find for them, and between his great bulk keeping the other bully-calves away and Rise’s strong nose sniffing out the still-green patches the two of them managed to fare well as the drought settled itself over the plains.

It was Rise’s keen eyes and good nose that saved them that summer though.

The night had been hot and the day even hotter, though it held a muggy feel to it that spoke of coming-storm. Even Rise was having trouble finding browse that was not already trampled and dry. She could not smell land-water on the wind, but she and Old Gray-hump both held the hope that rain would fall soon and they would no longer be thirsty.

The herd was heading for the bluffs to the northwest that the bulls hoped would hold some reserve of rainwater in its shadows. Rise was following behind the herd with Old Gray-hump the two of them walking in silence, when she thought she spotted a patch of green a little way to the west.

“What is it, hawk-eyes?” The old bull asked her as she stopped to sniff the air.

“Something green! I see something green.” She replied, and led him off in the direction of the patch. The herd was moving slowly and she knew they would have time to catch up. A bite of something green was just what the old one needed to keep up his strength till they could reach the bluffs.

What they found was a small dry creek bed that had only recently given up the last of its surface water. There was crusting-over mud at it’s bottom and a few still-green shoots of grass and some small brambles of wild current that were left by the gazelle who seemed to have moved on with the water. Not enough for a herd of any size, but it was just enough for the two of them.

Rise nibbled at the currents happily and lifted her head as she chewed, keeping an eye on the direction the herd was moving off in. They were gradually becoming distant earth-mounds in the grasses again but she knew they would not stray from their course.

She bent and plucked a few more of the barely-ripe berries from the bush and flicked her ears at a small ground-squirrel that darted through the grass by the edge of the creek bed. Old Gray-hump nibbled the green grasses contentedly while the flies buzzed around his shaggy hide.

Rise.

Her head bobbed up again swiftly as the wind seemed to whisper her name. The fawn looked around for a moment, searching the grasses around them but seeing nothing. She flicked her ears and twitched her nose, but all she caught was the dry smell of the grass and the musk of the earth-brothers.

Rise. The voice whispered again just as she bent her head to the berry bush once more. She shifted uneasily as the whatever-it-was filled her with a strange sense of worry. A bird darted swiftly out of the grasses past her and she jumped high into the air in fright.

As she twisted her head in mid-air and her eyes rolled wide she caught sight of the storm clouds to the southwest of them that were building swiftly in the sky. Their great backs were like giant sky-buffalo that seemed to flatten out and blow long behind them as they reached out to the north. And in front of them rising out of the prairie a dark streak seemed to smudge out the horizon in an ever-broadening strip. All this she took in during the split moment she was in the air.

“What was that about?” Old Gray-hump asked her with amusement as he watched her feet settle back down to the ground. “You jumped higher than my old back that time.”

“The storm is coming!” Rise said quickly, turning her nose to the sky again. “And something else, something dark as a shadow running before the clouds.”

The old buffalo looked confused by her description for a few moments and then he turned his nose to the air, trying to sniff out what it was.

“Your eyes and nose can see farther than mine, little one. Get higher and see what you can see.” He rumbled to her when he could catch nothing in the stillness.

Rise looked around for higher ground, but there was none to be seen. The creek bed ran next to them almost as deep as Old Gray-hump was tall in some places. Rise jumped again, kicking her slim legs as hard as she could to gain height. This time she was turned towards the south and the approaching clouds and she had more time to look before gravity claimed her again as its own. The clouds were still distant, though growing taller and darker as they came. The shadow before them however, seemed to be getting closer.

Another bird shot out of the grass as Rise landed and it was quickly followed by its mate.

“The shadow is getting closer fast!” Rise said, watching the birds fly north as fast as their wings could carry them. “I wish I could have asked them, maybe they know what it is.”

The old bull’s eyes rolled back as he paced the memories of years gone by. He had seen this before but his aged mind was slow to realize what it was.

Rise lifted her nose to the wind again and could see now the shadow without jumping, it was speeding towards them as if driven by a powerful wind. Behind the shadow Rise thought she could see glimmers of red and orange light. The birds and ground-diggers shot past them in twos and threes now, and the old buffalo’s memory finally caught up with him just as the scorching edges of the wind began to pour across the fawn’s upturned nose.

“FIRE!” The bull bellowed in panic, kicking his back legs into the dirt and bolting as swiftly as he could to follow the birds. “The grasses are burning!”

Rise’s eyes widened in horror as she recalled the warnings the earth-mother’s had given the calves of this danger that was worse than the coyotes. Fire could outrun their strong legs and swallow them in one mouthful if it chose. She knew the old bull would have no hope of outrunning this demon. She charged after him, and her mind raced as she tried to find a way to survive.

The fire was hot and fast, and she could smell the smoke in the roaring wind around them now. The air before the storm was fanning the flames into frenzied motion that would overtake them in seconds..

HERE! A ripple echoed from a small puddle still left in the creek bed next to them as Rise caught up to Old Gray-hump. COME HERE!

The command was as strong as her panic and Rise had no time to consider it. She darted in front of the bull and shouted as loud as she could, while shoving his head to the side.

“INTO THE CREEK!” She cried. He swerved to miss her and the bank edge gave way under his heavy hooves just enough to slide them both into a deeper side of the bed.

The old buffalo fell onto his side in the mud and Rise was tossed against his great belly just as the scorching heat blazed over their heads. Sparks shot up from the dry grasses as they caught-in-an-instant and their hot stars glittered in the air, falling down to sting Rise’s pelt horribly where it touched. The air roared louder than the bulls when they were fighting. Her lungs burned as the wind filled with smoke and Rise thought the world was going to end in that one moment of terror.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was over. The grasses had been dry enough that the fire in them was spent almost as soon as it had been lit. Rise and the old bull struggled to their feet, muddy and speckled with ashes and small spark-burns but otherwise unharmed.

“Fire...” Old Gray-hump shuddered, watching the sparks rise from the blackened grass. The heat and smoke still swirled in the air around his hump, but his head was low enough in the creek bed to be free of it.

“...fire...” Rise echoed in whisper. Now she understood the meaning of the danger the buffalo-mother’s had spoken of. She had seen fire and lived.

As their panic subsided the old bull moved them back the way they had come, where the strong wind was quickly blowing the smoke away. Down in the creek bed the air grew chilly and Rise huddled against Old Gray-hump’s flanks as the first peals of thunder rolled faintly to them over the wind.

“We have to find a way out of the creek.” The bull said to her as he searched the banks for a way his old legs could climb. “We’re not out of the danger yet.”

What more could there be? Rise wondered in shock.

She was the first to spot the tapering side-vein of the creek that had edges crumbled enough for the old buffalo to climb his way out. The ground here was still hot against their hooves, but as the first drops of rain began to fall it sizzled and cooled. Old Gray-hump moved them quickly away from the creek and toward the rise of the land that had once been dry-grassy hills. As the storm gained strength and the thunder rolled, Rise heard the roar and saw the creek swiftly flood with water, rushing its way fast enough that it churned up the branches and grasses in its wake and tossed them ahead of it like water-born spears.

She shivered again. Fire was a danger. This she had known. But water was now too.

They reached the safety of a hillside, and the aging bull finally let himself slump down to the ground in weariness. Rise huddled against him as the rains fell to cool the blackened hills and the thunder rolled over them like waves. She licked the water from her nose and welcomed its cooling touch. She was warm against Old Gray-hump’s side at least, and his sighing breath lulled her into peace.