The White Buffalo
Wally Hanson sat at his dining room table, balancing his checking account statement with a pocket calculator. Discouraged by the dwindling balance, he pushed aside a pile of unpaid bills he was trying to fit into his already tight budget. If things continued the way they were going, he wondered how long he could hold on to the farm before he would be forced to sell.
"It's your own fault," his wife, Nettie, said as though she took perverse pleasure in reminding him of his failures. "You went and sold off the dairy cows and bought a herd of buffalo. Why on earth you did that is beyond me!"
Wally did not even bother to argue with her. They had been through it all before—many times. He had already explained on numerous occasions that if he had not taken action when he did, they would have lost the farm years earlier. At that time, there had been more potential in buffalo meat than in milk. How was he to know things would change? He was not a mind reader!
"How far are we in debt this month?" Nettie nagged.
Rather than quarrel with his wife, Wally got up from the table and walked outside to check on Daisy who was about to give birth. As he approached the huge black animal, he saw a glimmer of white on the ground. He shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun, but the object still looked white. When he got closer, Wally saw that Daisy had borne a white calf. After checking to see that the animal was alive and well, he ran back to the house to tell his wife the good news.
"A white buffalo?" she asked. "I've never seen a white buffalo before."
"Nor have most people," Wally exclaimed with excitement. "A white buffalo is a real rarity. Do you know what this means? Maybe we could sell Daisy's calf to a zoo or to a circus and make enough money to keep the farm."
Wally went to the door, but Nettie did not follow him.
"Don't you want to see it?" he asked.
"You go on, and I'll be out there in a minute. I want to make a phone call first."
While her husband was checking on the newborn baby buffalo, Nettie called the local newspaper and both the radio and television stations. She reasoned that the more interest she could generate in the unusual calf, the more money they could get for it. Had she had the phone number, she would have phoned the owner of Ringling Brothers Circus as well.
The advent of a white buffalo was indeed newsworthy. A half-page article announcing the animal's birth appeared on the front page of the Examiner, and news crews from the radio and television stations also covered the story.
Several days after the arrival of the extraordinary white buffalo, a Sioux medicine man from the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota arrived at the Hansons' farm. Wally was not surprised to see the man. Shortly after the media reported the animal's birth, curious sightseers began arriving. Hundreds of people from across Minnesota and the surrounding states came to see Daisy's calf, and many of them came bearing gifts.
It's almost like the advent of the Messiah, Hanson thought humorously.
The medicine man briefly examined the calf to determine if it was an authentic white buffalo or just a clever hoax. Apparently, the animal passed the inspection to his satisfaction.
After Wally led a group of visitors back to the driveway where they had parked their cars, the medicine man asked to have a word with him in private.
"My people have long awaited the birth of this animal," the man explained.
Wally, who had great respect for the Native Americans and their beliefs, invited the medicine man inside.
"There is an old legend among the Sioux," the holy man explained, "that in the days when the buffalo still roamed free on the plains, a beautiful woman wearing white buckskin appeared to the Lakota. She presented the chief with a pipe that she claimed would bring peace to the world. After staying with the tribe for four days, the woman took her leave. She lay on the ground, rolled over and rose as a great black buffalo. Then she lay down and rolled over again, this time turning yellow. Once more she lay on the ground, rolled over and turned white, after which she vanished into the sunset."
Wally scratched his head, unsure where the story was going.
"The prophecy has been passed down from generation to generation of Sioux that the white buffalo would return again," the old man continued, "bringing with it the world peace that was promised long ago."
Wally looked at the medicine man with growing suspicion.
"Exactly what do you want from me?"
The medicine man smiled.
"Don't worry, Mr. Hanson. I haven't come here to ask you to give the white calf to the Sioux. On the contrary, I believe you were chosen to care for it. I came here only to implore you not to sell it to anyone."
"You don't realize what you're asking of me," Wally protested. "I'm in debt and on the verge of losing my farm. Selling that calf is the only hope I've got of saving my home and the land that has been in my family for five generations."
"That is the difference between your people and mine. The Sioux do not believe a man's home is limited to a house or a particular piece of land. This whole planet is our home. We are talking about an entire world. If the white buffalo is not well cared for, she might die. According to the old legend, if the calf dies before its time, it will mean the end of all we know."
Wally shook his head.
"I respect your beliefs. I really do, but I don't share them. A white buffalo is a very rare animal, I'll admit. But it is only an animal, after all, not some divine creature."
"You're wrong. It is an omen and a fulfillment of the prophecy."
"Even if a white buffalo could bring about world peace, how can you be so sure this is the buffalo of the prophecy? Heck, there was a white buffalo born in Montana in the Twenties. Maybe there will be more born now that the number of buffalos in the country is increasing."
"This calf is the one," the medicine man declared with certainty. "I can feel it. She emits a powerful energy."
Wally remained skeptical.
"Perhaps you would like proof," the medicine man suggested.
"What proof do you have?"
"It was prophesized that the bull that fathered the calf would die soon after its birth."
"Impossible! He's our prize bull, and he's in excellent health."
"He will die in a matter of days, and then we will speak again."
Afraid that the medicine man might try to harm the animal, Wally kept constant watch over it. Two days later, however, the mighty buffalo lay down and died without warning.
"It might be just a coincidence," Wally said when the medicine man returned.
"Are you prepared to bet the future of the world that I'm wrong?"
"No. But what am I to do? If I don't come up with some money fast, the bank will take the livestock as well as my home and my land."
The medicine man rallied his people and animal rights groups across the country. Donations poured in, and a trust fund was set up to care for the animal. Wally was grateful. The man's efforts had made it possible for him to keep his land.
"In return, I will take good care of the calf," he promised.
* * *
Owning so rare an animal brought a small degree of celebrity to the Hansons, a taste of fame that delighted Nettie. Thousands of people traveled to their home, some out of mere curiosity and others on a spiritual pilgrimage. Reporters, shamans, psychics, tourists, priests, historians, college professors, artists, photographers and even the Dalai Lama came to stare in awe at what many people considered to be a sacred animal.
Wally Hanson received a number of lucrative offers to purchase Daisy's unique calf. Movie studios, zoos, Native American tribes, circuses, amusement parks, museums and even an eccentric and wealthy rock 'n' roll star wanted to purchase the zoological oddity, but Wally remained adamant. The white buffalo must stay on the farm. He even refused to have the animal temporarily transported to Chicago to appear on a popular daytime television talk show despite the vast sum of money the show's producer offered.
When the calf's white fur turned black, however, Nettie raged at her husband.
"Why didn't you sell the damned beast when you had the opportunity? You fool! We could have been rich! Now, all we've got is one more worthless buffalo."
Soon after turning black, however, the buffalo turned red, then yellow and finally brown. These color changes only served as further proof of the old Lakota prophecy.
Once again, Daisy's calf made the news. Nettie, like the true capitalist she was, hoped to cash in on her unexpected good fortune. Although her husband still flatly refused to sell the animal or even to charge people to see it, Nettie took a lesson from the entertainment industry and fell under the spell of merchandising.
She started by making postcards, posters, key rings and bumper stickers featuring the likeness of the famous calf, all of which quickly sold out. Encouraged by her success, she not only replenished her stock but also expanded her product line to include stuffed white buffalo toys, coloring books, jigsaw puzzles and tee shirts. Soon the items were selling so well in and around her hometown that Nettie began selling the white buffalo merchandise on eBay and then via her own website.
Unfortunately for the human race, the pursuit of money attracts a far worse class of people than does the miracle of a white buffalo or the prospect of world peace. Just as Nettie Hanson had realized she could make a great deal of money off Daisy's extraordinary calf, so too did small-time thief Augie Filmore. Augie, who liked to mug little old ladies for their bingo money and fleece gullible people out of their savings, decided the buffalo would be his stepping stone to the big time. The problem was how was he to get his hands on the nine-hundred-pound animal? As much as he hated the idea of finding a partner, he knew he would need help.
* * *
When he first saw the empty enclosure, Wally assumed that the white buffalo had simply wandered off, but after several hours of searching, he realized the sacred animal was gone.
"Nettie!" he hollered, running back to the house. "Call the police. We have to find her."
"Find who?"
The devastated look on her husband's face was answer enough.
"What happened to her?" she cried.
"I don't know. That's why we need the police. They must help us look for her."
A patrol car arrived within the hour.
The responding officer examined the site and announced, "These tire tracks belong to a truck. Yours?"
"No. I've never had the truck this close to the animals."
"Then it looks as though someone stole your buffalo."
"How? The calf weighed nearly half a ton."
There was no need to ask why.
"My guess is the thief used a truck with a ramp and had the animal walk up it. I'll send a team of forensic technicians down here to scour the area for clues. They'll dust everything for fingerprints, and they'll probably want to take an impression of these tire tracks. Maybe the guys at the lab can determine what type of vehicle made them. I'll also have a detective come to your house and discuss the possibility of kidnapping—or is it animal napping? Well, you know what I mean. It's possible whoever took the buffalo will want a ransom for it."
"If he doesn't sell it to the Bronx Zoo first," Wally said sadly.
"A white buffalo is a hard thing to fence, Mr. Hanson."
Wally and Nettie took turns waiting by the telephone, but no ransom demand was made. Augie Filmore had stolen the animal with the sole intent of selling it to the highest bidder. However, every zoo, carnival and circus he contacted refused to purchase a stolen animal, especially one as rare and as well-known as the "Miracle White Buffalo."
"You dumb ass," his partner swore. "You stole the animal and didn't even have a buyer for it."
"Never mind that," Augie replied. "What are we to do with it? I can't take care of a dog, much less a damned buffalo."
"That's your problem."
The partner, facing a possible felony rap should the buffalo nappers be caught, packed his bags and left the state. Augie, too, feared arrest and fled, leaving the sacred white animal to starve to death in an abandoned warehouse.
* * *
The same night that Augie Filmore headed toward the Mexican border, a Sioux medicine man on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest.
"It was only a nightmare," he told himself.
Still, that thought brought him no comfort, for he knew that the spirits often spoke to men in their dreams. He looked at the clock next to his bed; it was 3:00 a.m., not a good time to phone Wally Hanson. He turned off his bedside lamp and decided the call could wait until morning.
That phone call was never made, however. Before the sun rose the following day, a Middle Eastern terrorist group dropped a hydrogen bomb on the mid-Atlantic seaboard. The United States retaliated, and World War III began. Unlike the previous two global conflicts, the Third World War did not drag on for years. In fact, it was over in a matter of days.
It was ironic; the Sioux prophecy concerning the white buffalo had come true, for there was at last peace on earth. Unfortunately, no man, woman or child was left alive to enjoy it.
This story was inspired by an actual account of a white buffalo born on August 20, 1994 in Janesville, Wisconsin, as well as a Sioux prophecy concerning its birth.
Never mind the Wite-Out, Salem. I know you were born a black cat.
