Chapter 5 - A Herd of Two

Morning came and they awoke to an alien landscape. The once rolling ocean of grass was now a blackened swash of empty prairie. There was nothing but ashes and mud left in the wake of the storm save for a few random bits that had somehow managed to escape the fire’s wrath.

Rise stretched her stiff legs and shook the wet off her pelt as Old Gray-hump groaned his aching hide into motion. He looked over at his small companion and had to laugh deep down. This tiny creature had saved them both from what would surely have been the end of him. Now, as he watched her sniffing the wind and searching the landscape with her wide amber eyes he had to wonder at the mystery of her.

“I don’t smell the herd...” Rise said softly after searching with her eyes and nose for long moments.

“They will be long gone by now.” The old one replied knowingly. They would have seen the fire coming from further up on the hills and known it for what it was right away. The herd would have bolted for the safety of the bluffs and the rocky patches that spread out from them. With any luck they would have made it safely.

Himself though, he knew he did not have it in his old bones to outrun such fury anymore. He would have fallen behind and been swallowed by the flames if Rise had not led them to the creek bed.

“Will we catch up?” Rise asked worriedly. She could not see the bluffs from where they stood, their journey up the creek bed having taken them in a different direction far enough to be out of sight and the strong smoky smell blotted out all traces of other scent in the air.

The old buffalo sniffed the wind and felt the ground under his hooves. The herd would be long away by now, and the chances of finding the trail were slim. If they stayed here too long the scavenger creatures like the coyotes would soon find them.

“We will find food, and drink deep from the creek.” He said firmly. “And then we will decide which way we are to go.”

Rise nodded and followed beside him as they headed back to where the creek was flowing just over its banks. There were tatters of green grass and weeds tangled at its edges that had been uprooted by the rush of water from somewhere beyond the fire. The two companions chewed what was not too covered in mud to see, and drank from the murky water before setting out.

They traveled along the stream bank staying with the water and searching for green food as they went. About mid-day they came to the edges of the fire-scorched grasses where the stream turned itself westward and found bits of living green along the water’s edge. In the late afternoon they settled in the cool of a small grove of cottonwood for a much needed rest. Rise did not remember this wood or the hills around it but on the horizon she could make out bluffs beyond the grasses to the west. Had they somehow gone more east-and-then-north to arrive alongside the herd’s destination, she wondered to herself.

They stayed by the trees through the evening, rolling some of the fresh mud from the slowly dwindling stream bed over their many tiny burns to cool them. By the time the small herd of gazelle was passing them by Rise looked more like a scrawny buffalo calf herself with all the mud and grasses she had plastered to her burn-itching pelt.

Rise had seen gazelle from a distance before, but they generally avoided the buffalo herds unless the coyotes were nearby. She was fascinated at the way they bounded through the grasses, hopping more than running. They were much smaller than the buffalo, and Rise even saw a few of their own younglings who seemed smaller than her. They would not let her get close in her state however, and she finally decided that they could either not speak or simply thought she and Old Gray-hump were outcasts of illness.

“Am I a hopper like them?” She asked the old bull as they shook themselves off and began to browse the next morning. He rolled his large eyes at her in response and took a good long sniff.

“No.” He said thoughtfully “You are not. Whatever you were before, you are like we earth-brothers now little one. You are Strong.”

Rise watched the graceful shapes as they bounded off into the prairie and considered his words. She liked the thought of being like her earth-brothers in strength, though she suspected he spoke of it more in mind than in body. She proudly strode by his side as the day wore on, keeping watch around them and though she missed the herd she was content to have this old one as her companion.

The day after the gazelle had moved on Rise and Old Gray-hump were rested enough that they began to follow the stream westward again towards the bluffs. They grazed on the bits of green around the banks and sipped from the water as it flowed within their reach. Once, they passed a spot where the banks were wide and the stream low and the two of them bathed in the shallows among cattails and water reeds for a while enjoying the cool and washing the mud off of their pelts.

They traveled on together with the bluffs and the mountains beyond growing steadily closer and Rise began to wonder if they were really looking for their herd anymore. She had seen no signs of the others in the plains around them for days, though they did cross small herds of gazelle more often. The bounding creatures eyed the odd pairing with a wary curiosity but never spoke to them as they passed by.

One evening as they began to draw near the foothills they heard the sound of the coyotes calling in the distance, and Old Gray-hump had Rise settle herself tightly against his hide to keep her out of their sight and scent.

“They do not sound many.” He told her quietly. “And the mangy grass-dogs are not brave when they are few. They will likely not bother me for fear of my horns and hooves but you my brave little one, you they would only see as an easy snack. Stay close tonight.”

Rise shivered through the night as the creatures howled in the hills around them. Something in their barks and growls as they chased the rabbits that had been unlucky enough to not have dug fresh holes reminded her of a shadow she could not name and it frightened her. She did not feel so much like a strong buffalo when they were near.

“Where are we going?” She finally asked the bull as they traveled towards the bluffs the next day. She could see them clearly now, and knew they were definitely not the same that the herd had been heading towards.

The old one studied her for a long moment with milky-sad eyes.

“I do not know.” He said to her finally, and his voice held a tired edge to it that she did not understand. “To the place that calls me.”

Rise turned her nose westward and thought she caught the scent of something deep and green for a moment. Her ears pricked and she was satisfied with his answer. Their herd was lost to them but they were going west and her heart was light with the thought.

The bluffs grew closer until at last they towered over the pair and the grasses grew thin around their edges. Rise was on her guard for the coyotes she could tell traveled near this place, though the old one had grown steadily more silent and slow as they approached the cliffs. She caught site of a coyote in the distance behind them that afternoon, and they settled with their backs and sides guarded by the rocks that night.

As they rounded the bluffs however, Rise caught a scent that made her skin shiver oddly. It smelled old and dusty and sad. The old bull had been plodding slower still as the day wore on and finally he turned his eyes to her.

“I fear this is the thing that has called me, little one...” He moaned, his eyes growing milkier with the fog of age. “Without the herd my old bones are being called by the earth, and I am not certain that I can resist its call any longer. There lie the bones of my ancestors where the grass-dogs have picked them clean and the sun has bleached them to dust.”

Rise’s heart pounded as she realized they had come west to the dying grounds. The bull turned his head to the side of the bluffs and took a sorrowful step towards them. NO! A voice shouted from Rise’s heart.

“NO!” She said suddenly and darted to plant herself before the great bull. “NO OLD ONE! You CANNOT pass on yet! It is not your time! You DO still have a herd! It is ME!”

He eyed her tiny shape before him wearily and then looked over her to where the whispers of bone called to him. Rise planted her hooves and lowered her head at him as the calves did when play-fighting though her purpose now was in earnest.

“You will not go yet!” She cried with a voice from her heart and a strength that filled her mind against the idea of leaving him here. “There are still places for your hooves to walk and flowers for your tongue to taste! Let us go west, to where the forests grow. If death should find us there then so be it, but we have not come all this way simply to give ourselves to the coyotes for their dinner!”

Then Rise surprised him by charging at his nose and butting it as hard as her little form could. His head was turned by the force of it and the scent of that freshness caught him. He blinked hard, trying to clear his mind and remember what he had come here for. He looked down at the fawn and felt his heart lighten with the peace that she was with him.

“West.” She said to him firmly, shaking her head from the force of her blow. “We continue west, grandfather. Please, let us leave from here.”

He nodded to her letting her be the guide as his thoughts slowly unclouded, and turned his hooves towards the mountains again and the cool forests that would surely lie at their feet. The two in their own small herd moved on.

By that evening the sun set in front of them and the bluffs had already dwindled into the distance. Rise had pushed and prodded and butted Old Gray-hump to keep moving throughout the day, though she knew his legs were tired. His fog lifted as they drew further from the death-grounds and he began to speak to her again. He could not remember having arrived at the cliff sides, but deep in his heart he felt that the young fawn had once again saved him from an early passing.

The coyotes of the bluffs however felt jilted out of an easy meal. The old bull would have fed their pack for days if nothing else but the vultures had come to pick at it and the strange fawn would have been a juicy treat. Yet the enormous stag that traveled with the pair was as large and formidable as a young buffalo bull with horns ten times longer and sharper than a buffalo’s should be, and their greedy eyes followed the three travelers with resignation. They would have to suffice on old meat and rabbit again tonight.