Home, Home on the Range...
#3 of Mad Amos Malone Stories
For those of you unfamiliar with Mad Amos Malone, he was originally created by writer Alan Dean Foster, who also wrote the original Spellsinger series.
Amos Malone was sitting across the fire from
the Caddo medicine man known as Snow Bird. Now if you don't know of the Caddo
people, don't fret, because they didn't make a bad name for themselves like the
Shawnee or the Cherokee. They were a kind hearted people who lived off the land
and tried to be good neighbors to their fellow red man.Snow Bird was smoking his pipe,
delighting in the superior tobacco the white man had provided. In the old days,
good tobacco was easy to get, but now everything was second or third rate. That
was how the Indian was treated by this infestation called the white man. The
big brute across the fire was an exception. Then again, he was so dark and
gnarled that it was difficult to say if he was really white...or really human.
And he was speaking, so Snow Bird listened."So my friend, where do you think
the white man went wrong?"It was a loaded question, but the
medicine man knew that his answer must be honest. He drew a pull from the pipe,
held it in his mouth as he thought. When his brain had cogitated, he blew the
smoke out in little rings. The mountain man looked on in admiration."When the white man found this land
long ago, we were running it. We had no taxes and we had no money so we had no
debts. There was plenty of game, from
the beaver to the buffalo. The air and the water were pure. Men hunted, women
cooked and watched the little ones. People came to me for healing, not to the
white man in his dark clothing. We hunted and fished all day, and had sex all
night. Only the stupid white man would think he could improve on that!"Amos laughed in appreciation of
Snow Bird's honesty. "Yep! And if you think it's bad out here, you should go to
Washington and see how they do it up close!"The medicine man puffed on his
pipe. "No thank you, oh hairy son of mine. That you would go there at all earns
you the name of Braveness. But if you persist in going there repeatedly, even
on our behalf, I will have to change your Caddo name to Foolishness.""You might be right, great father,
but remember, while you have adopted me into your tribe, I am by far your
elder."The medicine man nodded. If the
stories were to be believed, this mountain man, indeed a mountain of a man, was
so old it would make your head hurting trying to comprehend it. He was said to
be wise beyond reason, yet he traveled with an old ugly horse no respectable
Indian would eat, much less ride. It was like a tattered and multi-patched
blanket. Many times, Snow Bird himself had offered him a fresh mount. Each time his offer was politely
refused. "Worthless may not be pretty to look at, but there is no better equine
between San Francisco and New York City."The medicine man doubted that was
true, but the white man was known to be crazy, and crazy men were better left
alone."So why did you call me here Snow
Bird? Your message sounded urgent."There was silence as the tobacco in
the pipe lit up from a particularly long draw. When the Indian exhaled, the
smoke came out of his mouth like a miniature tornado."The buffalo will soon be no more.""I am aware of that Snow Bird. The
fools shoot them dead from the iron horses and leave them, or strip the skins
and let the meat rot. I'm only one man. I can't stop the stupidity of
thousands."The Indian nodded. "Against the
stupidity of so many, not even the gods can prevail. But you are not a man,
Amos Malone, nor are you a god. You are something in between and you can do
something to save the buffalo.""I'm listening." The mountain man
leaned back and crossed his arms."I have had a vision. In it, you
are to find the one called Buffalo Woman. She will tell you what you can do to
save the herds. If you do not, they will soon be gone forever, and even the
white man will see his folly.""Buffalo Woman? Dammit Snow Bird,
she's just a legend. How am I supposed to find a legend?""They call you Mad for a reason
Amos Malone. No sane mane would ever search out Buffalo Woman. But I think you
have no need to worry. She will seek you out. You must go to the Hill of Ten
Thousand Crows, and you will find her waiting for you.""The Hill of... Snow Bird, are you
crazy? That place is sacred ground. I may be mad, but I ain;t stupid. The
spirits in that place are strong, strong enough that I might not come away
alive!""True, hairy son. But if you tell
them why you are there, I believe they will help you in your mission. And if
Buffalo Woman is there, she will have already convinced them." Amos was bored right now, not with
this conversation but with his life, hence the reason he had answered this
summons. But bored wasn't the same as suicidal. White men didn't believe in
Indian lore, and often paid for their ignorance with their lives. They might
put their misfortunes down to accidents, or missteps or other natural causes,
but to one who knew and could see past the natural, many bad things happened
because of the supernatural spirits of the earth.Buffalo Woman had never been seen
by any living man, Indian or otherwise. She was strictly a legend. And despite
this, Snow Bird wanted him to find her. Having seen some unbelievable things in
his day, Amos wasn't ready to totally dismiss her existence, but he wasn't
prone to believe in it either. He therefore set off for the Hill of Ten
Thousand Crows.The hill, to a white man's eye,
looked like any other. It was topped by a large, very dead oak tree. More often
than not, it had birds perched in it, though they might be vultures instead of
crows. It had a good view of the surrounding plains, but was rarely used by men.
Even a pagan white man knew when he wasn't wanted. The place was often called
evil, but it wasn't. It was protected by the spirits of dead warriors who had
fallen on these plains. Hundreds of year's worth of battles had been fought,
and the bones remained buried nearby. The hill was a focal point, and they
protected what they felt was theirs with great diligence.Stay for a few minutes and nothing
would happen. But the longer a person stayed, the more they felt a feeling of
dread. Stay long enough and the spirits would coalesce and remove you any way
they could. If he found anyone there, anyone; it would have to be a lunatic or
worse.Worse is what it was. Worthless was
none too pleased to be walking up to such a haunted spot as this lonely hill.
He finally had enough and stopped, sitting his butt on the ground and dumping his
rider. If the human wanted to approach this place, good for him. There was
grass to be eaten and it wasn't anywhere near the hill."Damn idjit horse!" Amos bellowed
after his mount. "Good thing my legs are working fine!"The half horse, half unicorn
snickered and moved further away.Amos climbed the rocky tor, making
a beeline for the tree. The birds that normally perched there were gone. A
chill wind was blowing through its branches, creating an eerie cacophony of moans
and groans. He stopped and looked around, hoping that there would be no one
here. At first glance, his hopes swung high. They plummeted when he spied a
delicate foot sticking out from behind the other side of the tree.Not knowing what language this
person might speak, and only assuming that they were still alive, he called out
"O-si-yo!" When he got no reply, he called out again, "Ha-Li-To!" Still
nothing. He tried a few more greetings. "Hau? Buzhu? Ya' At' 'eeh?"The foot withdrew from sight and
was replaced by an entire body that peered around the trunk of the tree. It was
of an Indian maiden, wearing a white dress covered in fine beadwork. "Hello!"
she said in plain English. "You need not try and impress me with your knowledge
Amos Malone. While I can speak Cherokee, Choctaw, Lakota, Chippewa and Navajo,
I am quite comfortable speaking in your tongue.He sucked in a breath. A lot of
Indians knew English, but her pronunciation was as perfect as an Oxford
professor's. And that wasn't the only thing perfect about her. So was everything
else, from her eyes to her toes; she was the perfect semblance of a woman."Ma'am, I don't know who you are,
but might I say what a lovely thing you are. And, if I might ask, how do you
know my name?"She smiled, dimming the high noon
sun. "I looked for a champion, and found you in the mind of Snow Bird. He calls
you his son, but that is a matter of tribal pride, not, how would you call it?
Oh yes, a matter of biology. You are not Indian Amos Malone, nor are you really
a white man. In fact, it would be closer to the truth to say you are no man at
all...""Now see here miss...; ...what is your name?""You already know all you need to
know about my name. I am the one they call Buffalo Woman."Amos stopped talking. He had
pictured a large, heavy set old witch woman when he had set out. This slip of a
female was nothing close to that. She looked young, and yet ageless. Her skin
was dark, yet shown with a radiance that rivaled the sun. Her eyes were deep
pools of amber, and her hair dark strands of pure silk.She was the Helen of Troy of the
Americas. There might not be a thousand ships to launch out here in the plains,
but if there were, they just might float about the grasses and weeds to fight
for her beauty. Amos was suddenly less sure of himself than he had been in a
long time. Since Buffalo Woman was real, then whatever his task was, was going
to be just as real. He didn't like tackling things that were controlled by
beings more powerful than he.He bowed. "Ma'am, allow me to tell
you what an honor..."She cut him off. "Save the
pleasantries Amos. I have need of you. The buffalo will soon be gone. I wish to
inject new life into what is left, so that they may continue to roam the world
as they have done for thousands of centuries. "He took off his cougar skull cap
and scratched his head. "That's all well and good ma'am, but how does this
involve me?""I am the mother of the buffalo.
When they came to this land it was because I brought them to it. I have stayed
to watch over them. Death is no great thing, for all things will eventually
die, making room for others. But the white man, he is a fool. He acts now and
thinks later. Much of what he kills, he does without reason. Many of the
creatures of this land are dying or dead. I will not let my buffalo die without
a fight.""Well, if it's a fight you're
starting, you can count me on your side!"She demurred. "No, not a fight Amos
Malone. Breeding."He pulled at his beard. "I don't
think I get you ma'am. Buffalo breed on their own. They just don't breed fast
enough to replace what the white man shoots.""Yeas Amos, you are correct. So I
must provide what remains with strong blood. That takes more than a little
effort. I need a good breeding bull."He didn't like where this was
going. "I hope you aren't suggesting that I mate with a buffalo cow? A human
and a buffalo ain't gonna have no child together!"She smiled. "No, more's the shame.
That would make this easy. No, I am suggesting that a bison bull of superior
bloodline mate with the cows.""I guess I ain't as smart as I
should be, because you aren't making a lick of sense."She whistled loudly. Much to his
surprise, Worthless came trotting up the hill, suddenly acting as if there were
nothing special about this chunk of up-heaved dirt he was standing on. "Your
steed is remarkable Mr. Malone, but not so much so when compared to you. " She
pulled Amos' sleeping kit from the saddle, gave the horse a kiss and sent him
on his way. He was literally dancing on his hooves as he returned to the plains
below."Take your attire off and put this
on."She had handed him his old,
moth-eaten buffalo skin blanket. A blanket that had seen a lot of use, but none
of it during the day. He complied, wondering what the point of this exercise
was. She smiled. "You make a fine, cutting figure in that Mr. Malone. I'm sure
you gave its previous owner a noble death."She then pointed to the ground.
"Roll a few times for me, would you?""What?""Roll on the ground. I'm sure a
little dust won't upset your bath schedule."He sighed. This was getting weird,
even for him. "Fine!"He dropped and rolled a few times
in the dust. By the time he got to his feet, he was feeling dizzy. His head was
hanging low, and he couldn't get up off of all fours. That's when he noticed
his hands were no long hands, but hooves. He shook his head in dismay. Oh, he
had been in worse fixes than this, but it would be hard to explain how."You see Mr. Malone, I have asked
the spirits here for help. You have a lot of traits that my buffalo have, and a
few they could use more of. So I decided that you would help restore the
balance."He tried to talk, but only managed
a snort and a grunt. She smiled at him, dropped to the dirt and rolled herself,
soon darkening her white dress with tan colored dust. By the time she too got
up, she had become a cow, only unlike him, she was white.If you do not know the significance
of the spirit animals to the natives of this land, then I will allow you to
keep your ignorance. I have no time to explain their beliefs to you now. Amos
had seen a number of them in his years, and only once had they had the result
that he was being asked to give here. Because of his early experience, he
tended to shy away from bears now, especially if he was riding up the Pacific
coast. She led him down to the plains.
Worthless caught sight and scent of him and fell to the ground in laughter.
Horses didn't have a proper laugh, but Worthless wasn't all horse. Amos felt
like lowering his new set of horns and goring his mount, but overrode his anger
and followed Buffalo Women out to the waiting herd. There were other bulls out there,
and as this was rutting season, it meant that many of them were tending to
their chosen females. Amos fell into his role rather too well, and started to
get into battles with the other bulls. Buffalo Woman was going to have none of
that. Summoning up the spirits of the dead, she used them to drive off the other
males. That left one massive bull and a herd of waiting females. Amos wanted to rebel against this
conscription, but the smell of the females was driving his nose absolutely
insane. One by one, he mounted the cows, for day after day, until he thought
his heart would explode. Once Buffalo Woman was satisfied that each one was
pregnant, she allowed him to rest.Though he couldn't communicate, he
could understand. She, being a bit superior to him, managed to speak in her
feral form. "You have done well Amos. After you have rested, there is one more
cow that needs to be serviced and you can be on your way."He grunted, blowing steam into the
cool morning air. He was normally very reserved when it came to lending out
sexual favors, for most women of the human kind found him to be large, brutish
and unclean. They failed to understand that in the true nature of things, that
was just how he was.As a buffalo, with thick hair and
an even thicker odor, that was nature of the beast. It was funny how the cows
thought nothing of it. It made him think that maybe he had been born into the
wrong species. He had never been much of one for perfumes and deodorants. Heck,
bathing happened maybe once or twice a year if he was lucky. Anything more and
he considered it bad form.He was wondering which of the cows
he had no yet impregnated when a fresh scent came to his nose. It was a cow in
heat, and she was close by. He snorted and licked the air, trying to narrow
down her location. When it dawned on him that the wind was coming from behind
him, he turned and stared.He had never dreamed that when she
said she was Buffalo Mother, she was really the mother of the buffalo that had
once spread across the plains by the millions. She was standing there, staring
at him, her eyes awash in the hormones that all females had when it came time
to breed.As a human, he would have balked at
sullying this fine creature. But as a bull, he seemed to have no morals, no
qualms about mounting this supernatural being. She turned and he lifted himself
up, striking her in the right spot on the first try. As he mounted her, he
wondered vaguely what it would have been like doing this in his natural form.The act was over far too quickly. Animals
never wasted much time in the mating process. Distractions lasting more than a
few minutes might prove deadly with all of the predators lurking about. He
dropped down to the ground, carefully following her back up the hill. At the
top, she motioned for him to roll again in the dirt. When he was done, he
stood, human once again, wrapped in his buffalo hide blanket.She spoke again, a strange thing
for any man to endure; to hear words coming from the mouth of a beast. "I thank
you, great Amos Malone. Is there anything I can offer you for your time and
vitality?" She winked with her big, expressive eyes."Errr, not a thing ma'am. I think
I've had an experience that puts everything else to shame.""Really? I thought I detected a
desire while we were connected. Something about doing me as a man?"He turned red, though it was hard
to tell with his dark, leathery skin. "Well, yes ma'am, I did think that.""Well, you're a man again, Amos
Malone. I'm not going anywhere."He stuttered. "No, no, no! Not with
you as a buffalo ma'am. I was thinking just you and me as, well, as we were
when we first met."She let out a low laugh. "As you
wish Amos Malone. You have ample manhood below your belt for a cow, but it
you'd prefer me as you first saw me, it's a small price to pay for the service
you have rendered." She dropped to the ground and rolled in the dirt. When she
came back up, she was in human form again."Is this more to your liking?" He
was about to tell her his opinion when she dropped her clothing, which he
finally realized was made of white buffalo skin. Underneath it she was all
human, from her perky breasts to her black hair. She was the Indian maiden to
beat all maidens. Of course, he corrected himself; she was a mother, so hardly
a maiden. But what she was superseded anything any human female could ever
offer."Ma'am, if you were any more
perfect, I might have to bruise you a little just so I wouldn't feel bad about
what I'm about to do.""Why Amos Malone, I'll take that as
a compliment!""But ma'am, should we really be
doing this? I mean, if you're already with child..."She laughed, a soft ringing sound.
"There's room for another. And I think that you deserve something a little more
relaxing and a little less strenuous before you go. She spread his blanket on
the ground. As he settled in to a little relaxation, he heard an equine laugh
in the distance. Whenever Worthless found humor in a situation, if often
preceded the mountain man performing some folly or another."To hell with you, you damned
useless beast. Go find your own mare to mount and leave me alone!" Since there
were no horses on the immediate plains, Worthless stalked the buffalo cows. One
or two might still have the need for a little attention. The females on the plain
got wind of him and started a minor stampede.