Nothing about a woman is irrelevant.
The way she looks, the way she walks,
the tone of her voice,
the direction of her eye,
the preference of her heart.
She is like the buffalo.
Absolutely everything about her is essential.
Without her, man would freeze and die.
Nothing spectacular.
He would just die.
If man were Indian, woman would be his wigwam.
She would shield him from the elements, give him safety in a homeless world.
He would wear her about his loins, hunt her and eat her and share her with his tribe.
Woman is like the buffalo.
He sings songs about her, rings her praise in his prayers.
She is the great challenge for the young warrior.
Woman is like unto the buffalo.
She feeds man.
Clothes him.
Cares for him.
He sings of her necessity to him as he devours her very soul.