The story of the Buffalo Dance’s origin is a tale woven from the threads of necessity, sacrifice, and the complex relationship between humanity and the natural world. It speaks of a time when the connection between the people and the buffalo was strained, a time of potential hardship, and the extraordinary actions of a young woman who sought to bridge the divide. This narrative, passed down through generations, illuminates the profound respect for the buffalo and the enduring power of song and dance in ensuring the community’s survival.
In the beginning, when the great herds of buffalo first roamed the vast plains, their relationship with the people was not one of easy harmony. The buffalo, magnificent and powerful creatures, were wary of the hunters. They understood the purpose behind the hunters’ efforts to guide them towards the precipice, the edge of the cliffs where they could be harvested to sustain the villages. But the buffalo resisted. They felt no desire to become the blankets that warded off winter’s chill, the dried meat that filled empty bellies, or the tools crafted from their bones and horns. The sinew, destined to be sewing thread, held no appeal. "No, no," they seemed to declare, their massive forms shifting restlessly. "We won’t fall into your traps. We will not fall for your tricks."
And so, each time the hunters attempted to lead them towards the edge, the buffalo would veer away at the crucial moment. Their inherent distrust and reluctance threatened the well-being of the entire village. Winter was approaching, and the prospect of hunger, cold, and tattered clothing loomed large. The people depended on the buffalo for their survival, and the buffalo’s resistance posed a grave threat.
Among the hunters was a man whose daughter possessed a particular pride in his skill with the bow and arrow. During the abundant months of summer, he would always bring her the finest hides. She, in turn, would transform these deerskins into the softest, whitest garments for him to wear, a testament to her love and appreciation. Her own dresses were as light and airy as the down of a snow goose, and the moccasins she crafted for the children and the grandmothers of the village were treasured gifts, providing warmth and comfort.
However, as the first hints of snow dusted the wind and the deer became increasingly scarce in the willow breaks, the Hunter’s Daughter recognized the gravity of the situation. The buffalo’s unwillingness to cooperate posed a significant problem, one that could have devastating consequences for her people. She resolved to take action, driven by a deep sense of responsibility and a fierce determination to protect her community.
With unwavering resolve, she journeyed to the base of the imposing cliff and gazed upwards. In a voice as gentle and soothing as the rustling of leaves, she began to sing. Her song was a plea, an offering, and a promise. "Oh, buffalo family, come down and visit me," she sang, her voice carrying on the wind. "If you come down and feed my relatives in a wedding feast, I will join your family as the bride of your strongest warrior."
She paused, listening intently. In the distance, she thought she detected the faint rumbling of thunder, a subtle sign perhaps, of the power she was invoking. Emboldened, she continued her song, her voice growing stronger. "Oh, buffalo family, come down and visit me. Feed my family in a wedding feast so that I may be a bride."
This time, the thunder was much louder, closer, more resonant. Suddenly, the seemingly impossible occurred. The buffalo family began to fall from the sky, descending towards her feet. It was a breathtaking and terrifying sight, a testament to the power of her words and the willingness of the buffalo to respond to her sacrifice.
A particularly large and powerful bull landed atop the others. With a display of dominance, he walked across the backs of his fallen relatives until he stood directly before the Hunter’s Daughter. His gaze was intense, his presence commanding. "I am here to claim you as my bride," he declared, his voice a deep rumble that echoed across the plains.
The Hunter’s Daughter, despite her courage and determination, felt a flicker of fear. "Oh, but now I am afraid to go with you," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
The Large Buffalo responded with a firm resolve. "Ah, but you must," he insisted. "For my people have come to provide your people with a wedding feast. As you can see, they have offered themselves up." He gestured to the buffalo that lay before them, a tangible representation of their sacrifice.
The Hunter’s Daughter, ever resourceful, sought a moment to alert her people. "Yes, but I must run and tell my relatives the good news," she pleaded.
But the Large Buffalo was not easily swayed. "No," he said, his voice unwavering. "No word need be sent. You are not getting away so easily."
With that, the Large Buffalo gently lifted her between his powerful horns and carried her away towards his village, nestled in the rolling grass hills. Her sacrifice was complete, and the fate of her people hung in the balance.
The following morning, the entire village was consumed with worry. They searched frantically for the missing Hunter’s Daughter. When they finally discovered the mound of buffalo at the base of the cliff, her father, a skilled tracker as well as a hunter, examined her footprints in the dust. His heart sank as he realized what had transpired.
"She’s gone off with a buffalo," he announced, his voice filled with a mixture of grief and determination. "I shall follow them and bring her back."
And so, the Hunter set out upon the vast plains, armed only with his bow and arrows and fueled by his love for his daughter. He walked for what seemed like an eternity, his body weary, his spirit unwavering. Eventually, exhausted, he was forced to rest beside a buffalo wallow, a shallow depression in the earth where the buffalo would wallow in the mud.
As he sat there, dejected and alone, Magpie, the clever and observant bird, landed beside him. The Hunter, recognizing Magpie’s wisdom, spoke to him with respect. "O knowledgeable bird," he said, "has my daughter been stolen from me by a buffalo? Have you seen them? Can you tell me where they have gone?"
Magpie, understanding the Hunter’s plight, replied with compassion. "Yes, I have seen them pass this way," he said. "They are resting just over this hill."
Hope flickered within the Hunter’s heart. "Well," he said, "would you kindly take my daughter a message for me? Will you tell her I am here just over the hill?"
Without hesitation, Magpie flew to where the Large Buffalo lay asleep amidst his relatives in the dry prairie grass. He hopped over to where the Hunter’s Daughter was diligently quilling moccasins, seated beside her sleeping husband. "Your father is waiting for you on the other side of the hill," Magpie whispered to the maiden.
The Hunter’s Daughter was filled with a mixture of joy and apprehension. "Oh, this is very dangerous," she told him. "These buffalo are not friendly to us, and they might try to hurt my father if he should come this way. Please tell him to wait for me, and I will try to slip away to see him."
Just then, her husband, the Large Buffalo, awoke and removed one of his horns. "Go bring me a drink from the wallow just over this hill," he instructed.
Seizing the opportunity, she took the horn in her hand and walked casually over the hill. Her father, seeing her approach, motioned silently for her to join him, crouching low in the grass.
"No," she whispered urgently. "The buffalo are angry with our people who have killed their people. They will run after us and trample us into the dirt. I will go back and see what I can do to soothe their feelings." Her loyalty was divided, torn between her family and her commitment to the buffalo people.
And so, the Hunter’s Daughter returned to her husband, carrying the horn filled with water. The Large Buffalo took a drink and let out a loud snort, which escalated into a bellow, alarming all the buffalo. They all raised their tails in the air and began to dance a buffalo dance over the hill, unknowingly trampling the poor man who was still waiting for his daughter near the buffalo wallow.
The Hunter’s Daughter, witnessing the tragic event, sat down on the edge of the wallow and wept.
"Why are you crying?" her buffalo husband asked, confused by her distress.
"You have killed my father, and I am a prisoner, besides," she sobbed, her heart heavy with grief.
"Well, what of my people?" her husband retorted. "We have given our children, our parents, and some of our wives up to your relatives in exchange for your presence among us. A deal is a deal."
However, after reflecting on her profound sadness, the Large Buffalo knelt beside her and said, "If you can bring your father back to life again, we will let him take you back home to your people."
The Hunter’s Daughter, filled with hope, began to sing a small song. "Magpie, Magpie, help me find some piece of my father which I can mend back whole again."
Magpie immediately appeared, landing in front of her with his head cocked to the side, listening intently.
"Magpie, Magpie, please see what you can find," she sang softly to the wind, which gently parted the grasses. Magpie cocked his head again and carefully searched within the layered folds of the grasses as the wind sighed. Quickly, he located a piece of her father that had been hidden there – a small fragment of bone.
"That will be enough to do the trick," said the Hunter’s Daughter, her voice filled with determination. She placed the bone on the ground and covered it with her blanket.
Then, she began to sing a reviving song, a song that possessed the power to restore injured people to the land of the living. She quietly sang the song that her grandmother had taught her, a song filled with ancient wisdom and healing energy. After a few melodious passages, a lump began to form under the blanket. She and Magpie cautiously lifted the blanket and saw a man, but he was not breathing. He lay as cold as stone. Undeterred, the Hunter’s Daughter continued to sing, her voice softening, so as not to startle her father as he began to stir.
Finally, the man stood up, alive and strong. The buffalo people were astonished by this display of power. They turned to the Hunter’s Daughter and said, "Will you sing this song for us after every hunt? We will teach your people the Origin of the Buffalo Dance, so that whenever you dance before the hunt, you will be assured a good result. Then you will sing this song for us, and we will all come back to live again."
And so, the Origin of the Buffalo Dance was established, a ritual born from sacrifice, compassion, and the enduring bond between humanity and the buffalo. The dance became a way to honor the buffalo’s sacrifice, to ensure a successful hunt, and to invoke the power of the reviving song, a testament to the Hunter’s Daughter’s courage and the transformative power of song and dance. The Origin of the Buffalo Dance represents an agreement between the people and the buffalo, a promise of respect and reciprocity. The dance itself became a prayer, a plea, and a celebration of life’s cyclical nature. The Origin of the Buffalo Dance is more than just a story; it is a living tradition, a vibrant expression of cultural identity, and a powerful reminder of the importance of harmony and balance in the natural world. Understanding the Origin of the Buffalo Dance offers valuable insight into the traditions and beliefs of the people who hold it sacred. This tale serves as a constant reminder of the delicate balance between taking and giving, between humanity and nature, and the enduring power of sacrifice and gratitude.