(and our other authors) or get HELP Reading, Downloading and Converting files)
or
SEARCHthe entire site withGoogle Site Search
| BROWSEthe site for other works by this author (and our other authors) or get HELP Reading, Downloading and Converting files) or SEARCHthe entire site withGoogle Site Search |
Title: The Enchanted BuffaloAuthor: L. Frank Baum* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *eBook No.: 0700711h.htmlLanguage: EnglishDate first posted: May 2007Date most recently updated: Nov 2016Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editionswhich are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright noticeis included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particularpaper edition.Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing thisfile.This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online athttp://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html
GO TOProject Gutenberg of Australia HOME PAGE
This is a tale of the Royal Tribe of Okolom—those mighty buffaloesthat once dominated all the Western prairies, Seven hundred strong werethe Okolom—great, shaggy creatures herding together and defying allenemies. Their range was well known to the Indians, to lesser herds ofbisons and to all the wilds that roamed in the open; but none cared tomolest or interfere with the Royal Tribe.
Dakt was the first King of the Okolom. By odds the fiercest and mostintelligent of his race, he founded the Tribe, made the Laws thatdirected their actions and led his subjects through wars and dangersuntil they were acknowledged masters of the prairie.
Dakt had enemies, of course; even in the Royal Tribe. As he grew oldit was whispered he was in league with Pagshat, the Evil Genius of thePrairies; yet few really believed the lying tale, and those Who did butfeared King Dakt the more.
The days of this monarch were prosperous days for the Okolom. InSummer their feeding grounds were ever rich in succulent grasses; inWinter Dakt led them to fertile valleys in the shelter of themountains.
But in time the great leader grew old and gray. He ceased quarrelingand fighting and began to love peace—a sure sign that his days werenumbered. Sometimes he would stand motionless for hours, apparently indeep thought. His dignity relaxed; he became peevish; his eye, onceshrewd and compelling, grew dim and glazed.
Many of the younger bulls, who coveted his Kingship, waited for Daktto die; some patiently, and some impatiently. Throughout the herd therewas an undercurrent of excitement. Then, one bright Spring morning, asthe Tribe wandered in single file toward new feeding grounds, the oldKing lagged behind. They missed him, presently, and sent Barrag the Bullback over the hills to look for him. It was an hour before this messengerreturned, coming into view above the swell of the prairie.
"The King is dead," said Barrag the Bull, as he walked calmly into themidst of the tribe. "Old age has at last overtaken him."
The members of the Okolom looked upon him curiously. Then one said:"There is blood upon your horns, Barrag. You did not wipe them well uponthe grass."
Barrag turned fiercely "The old King is dead," he repeated."Hereafter, I am the King!"
No one answered in words; but, as the Tribe pressed backward into adense mass, four young bulls remained standing before Barrag, quietlyfacing the would-be King. He looked upon them sternly. He had expected tocontend for his royal office. It was the Law that any of the Tribe mightfight for the right to rule the Okolom. But it surprised him to findthere were four who dared dispute his assertion that he was King.
Barrag the Bull had doubtless been guilty of a cowardly act in goringthe feeble old King to his death. But he could fight; and fight he did.One after another the powerful young bulls were overthrown, while everymember of the Tribe watched the great tournament with eager interest.Barrag was not popular with them, but they could not fail to marvel athis prowess. To the onlookers he seemed inspired by unseen powers thatlent him a strength fairly miraculous. They murmured together in awedtones, and the name of the dread Pagshat was whispered more thanonce.
As the last of the four bulls—the pride of half the Tribe—lay at thefeet of the triumphant Barrag, the victor turned and cried aloud: "I amKing of the Okolom! Who dares dispute my right to rule?"
For a moment there was silence. Then a fresh young voice exclaimed: "Idare!" and a handsome bull calf marched slowly into the space beforeBarrag and proudly faced him. A muttered protest swelled from theassemblage until it became a roar. Before it had subsided the young one'smother rushed to his side with a wail of mingled love and fear.
"No, no, Oknu!" she pleaded, desperately. "Do not fight, my child. Itis death! See—Barrag is twice thy size. Let him rule the Okolom!"
"But I myself am the son of Dakt the King, and fit to rule in hisplace," answered Oknu, tossing his head with pride. "This Barrag is aninterloper! There is no drop of royal blood in his veins."
"But he is nearly twice thy size!" moaned the mother, nearly franticwith terror. "He is leagued with the Evil Genius. To fight him meansdefeat and death!"
"He is a murderer!" returned the young bull, glaring upon Barrag. "Hehas killed his King, my father!"
"Enough!" roared the accused. "I am ready to silence this King's cub.Let us fight."
"No!" said an old bull, advancing from the herd. "Oknu shall not fightto-day. He is too young to face the mighty Barrag. But he will grow, bothin size and strength; and then, when he is equal to the contest, he mayfight for his father's place among the Okolom. In the meantime weacknowledge Barrag our King!"
A shout of approval went up from all the Tribe, and in the confusionthat followed the old Queen thrust her bold son out of sight amidst thethrong.
Barrag was King. Proudly he accepted the acclaims of the Okolom—themost powerful Tribe of his race. His ambition was at last fulfilled; hisplotting had met with success. The unnatural strength he had displayedhad vanquished every opponent. Barrag was King.
Yet as the new ruler led his followers away from the field of conflictand into fresh pastures, his heart was heavy within him. He had notthought of Prince Oknu, the son of the terrible old King he had assistedto meet death. Oknu was a mere youth, half-grown and untried. Yet thelook in his dark eyes as he had faced his father's murderer filled Barragwith a vague uneasiness. The youth would grow, and bade fair to become aspowerful in time as old Dakt himself. And when he was grown he wouldfight for the leadership of the Okolom.
Barrag had not reckoned upon that.
When the moon came up, and the prairie was dotted with the recliningforms of the hosts of the Royal Tribe, the new King rose softly to hisfeet and moved away with silent tread. His pace was slow and stealthyuntil he had crossed the first rolling swell of the prairie; then he setoff at a brisk trot that covered many leagues within the next twohours.
At length Barrag reached a huge rock that towered above the plain. Itwas jagged and full of rents and fissures, and after a moment'shesitation the King selected an opening and stalked fearlessly into theblack shadows. Presently the rift became a tunnel; but Barrag kept on,feeling his way in the darkness with his fore feet. Then a tiny lightglimmered ahead, guiding him, and soon after he came into a vast cavehollowed in the centre of the rock. The rough walls were black as ink,yet glistened with an unseen light that shed its mellow but awesome raysthroughout the cavern.
Here Barrag paused, saying in a loud voice:
"To thee, 0 Pagshat, Evil Genius of the Prairies, I give greeting! Allhas occurred as thou didst predict. The great Dakt is dead, and I, Barragthe Bull, am ruler of the Tribe of Okolom."
For a moment after he ceased the stillness was intense. Then a Voice,grave and deep, answered in the language of the buffaloes: "It iswell!"
"But all difficulties are not yet swept aside," continued Barrag. "Theold King left a son, an audacious young bull not half grown, who wishedto fight me. But the patriarchs of the Tribe bade him wait until he hadsize and strength. Tell me, can the young Prince Oknu defeat methen?"
"He can," responded the Voice.
"Then what shall I do?" demanded the King. "Thou hast promised to makeme secure in my power?"
"I promised only to make you King of the Tribe—and you are King.Farther than that, you must protect yourself," the Voice of the EvilGenius made answer. "But, since you are hereafter my slave, I will grantyou one more favor—the power to remove your enemy by enchantment?"
"And how may I do that?" asked Barrag, eagerly.
"I will give you the means," was the reply. "Bow low thine head, andbetween the horns I will sprinkle a magical powder."
Barrag obeyed. "And now?" said he, inquiringly.
"Now," responded the unseen Voice, "mark well my injunctions. You mustenchant the young Prince and transform him from a buffalo into some smalland insignificant animal. Therefore, to-morrow you must choose a spring,and before any of the Tribe has drunk therein, shake well your head abovethe water, that the powder may sift down into the spring. At the sametime centre your thoughts intently upon the animal into which you wishthe Prince transformed. Then let him drink of the water in the spring,and the transformation on the instant will be accomplished?"
"That is very simple," said Barrag. "Is the powder now between myhorns?"
"It is," answered the Voice.
"Then, farewell, 0 Pagshat!"
From the cavern of the Evil Genius the King felt his way through thepassages until he emerged upon the prairie. Then, softly—that he mightnot disturb the powder of enchantment—he trotted back to the sleepingherd.
Just before he reached it a panther, slender, lithe and black as coal,bounded across his path, and with a quick blow of his hoof Barrag crushedin the animal's skull. "Panthers are miserable creatures," mused theKing, as he sought his place among the slumbering buffaloes. "I think Ishall transform young Oknu into a black panther?"
Secure in his great strength, he forgot that a full-grown panther isthe most terrible foe known to his race.
At sunrise the King led the Royal Tribe of Okolom to a tiny springthat welled clear and refreshing from the centre of a fertile valley.
It is the King's right to drink first, but after bending his headabove the spring and shaking it vigorously Barrag drew back, and turnedto the others.
"Come! I will prove that I bear no ill will," said he, treacherously."Prince Oknu is the eldest son of our dead but venerated King Dakt. It isnot for me to usurp his rights. Prince Oknu shall drink first."
Hearing this, the patriarchs looked upon one another in surprise. Itwas not like Barrag the Bull to give way to another. But the Queen-motherwas delighted at the favor shown her son, and eagerly pushed him forward.So Oknu advanced proudly to the spring and drank, while Barrag bent histhoughts intently upon the black panther.
An instant later a roar of horror and consternation came from theRoyal Tribe; for the form of Prince Oknu had vanished, and in its placecrouched the dark form of a trembling, terrified panther.
Barrag sprang forward. "Death to the vermin!" he cried, and raised hiscloven hoof to crush in the panther's skull.
A sudden spring, a flash through the air, and the black pantheralighted upon Barrag's shoulders. Then its powerful jaws closed over thebuffalo's neck, pressing the sharp teeth far into the flesh.
With a cry of pain and terror the King reared upright, striving toshake off his tormentor; but the panther held fast. Again Barrag reared,whirling this way and that, his eyes staring, his breath quick and short,his great body trembling convulsively.
The others looked on fearfully. They saw the King kneel and roll uponthe grass; they saw him arise with his foe still clinging to his backwith claw and tooth; they heard the moan of despair that burst from theirstricken leader, and the next instant Barrag was speeding away across theprairie like an arrow fresh from a bow, and his bellows of terror grewgradually fainter as he passed from their sight.
The prairie is vast. It is lonely, as well. A vulture, resting onoutstretched wings, watched anxiously the flight of Barrag the Bull ashour by hour he sped away to the southward—the one moving thing on allthat great expanse.
The sun sank low and buried itself in the prairie's edge. Twilightsucceeded, and faded into night. And still a black shadow, leap by leap,sprang madly through the gloom. The jackals paused, listening to theshort, quick pants of breath—the irregular hoof-beats of the gallopingbull. But while they hesitated the buffalo passed on, with the silentpanther still crouched upon its shoulders.
In the black night Barrag suddenly lifted up his voice. "Come to me, 0Pagshat—Evil Genius that thou art—come to my rescue!" he cried.
And presently it seemed that another dark form rushed along beside hisown.
"Save me, Pagshat!" he moaned. "Crush thou mine enemy, and set mefree!"
A cold whisper reached him in reply: "I cannot!"
"Change him again into his own form," panted Barrag; "hark ye,Pagshat: 'tis the King's son—the cub—the weakling! Disenchant him, erehe proves my death!"
Again came the calm reply, like a breath of Winter sending a chill tohis very bones: "I cannot."
Barrag groaned, dashing onward—ever onward.
"When you are dead," continued the Voice, "Prince Oknu will resume hisown form. But not before?"
"Did we not make a compact?" questioned Barrag, in despairingtone.
"We did," said the Evil Genius, "and I have kept my pact. But you havestill to fulfil a pledge to me."
"At my death—only at my death, Pagshat!" cried the bull, tremblingviolently.
A cruel laugh was the only response. The moon broke through a rift inthe clouds, flooding the prairie with silver light. The Evil Genius haddisappeared, and the form of the solitary buffalo, with its clinging,silent foe, stumbled blindly across the endless plains.
Barrag had bargained with the Evil One for strength, and the strengthof ten bulls was his. The legends do not say how many days and nights thegreat buffalo fled across the prairies with the black panther upon hisshoulders. We know that the Utes saw him, and the Apaches, for theirlegends tell of it. Far to the south, hundreds of miles away, lived thetribe of the Comanches; and those Indians for many years told theirchildren of Barrag the Bull, and how the Evil Genius of the Prairies,having tempted him to sin, betrayed the self-made King and abandoned himto the vengeance of the Black Panther, who was the enchanted son of themurdered King Dakt.
The strength of ten bulls was in Barrag; but even that could notendure forever. The end of the wild run came at last, and as Barrag felllifeless upon the prairie the black panther relaxed its hold and wastransformed into its original shape. For the enchantment of the EvilGenius was broken, and, restored to his own proper form, Prince Oknu castone last glance upon his fallen enemy and then turned his head to thenorth.
It would be many moons before he could rejoin the Royal Tribe of theOkolom.
Since King Barrag had left them in his mad dash to the southward theRoyal Tribe had wandered without a leader. They knew Oknu, as the blackpanther, would never relax his hold on his father's murderer; but how thestrange adventure might end all were unable to guess.
So they remained in their well-known feeding grounds and patientlyawaited news of the absent ones.
A full year had passed when a buffalo bull was discovered one daycrossing the prairie in the direction of the Okolom. Dignity and pridewas in his step; his glance was fearless, but full of wisdom. As hestalked majestically to the very centre of the herd his gigantic formtowered far above that of any buffalo among them.
A stillness fraught with awe settled upon the Royal Tribe. "It is oldKing Dakt, come to life again!" finally exclaimed one of thepatriarchs.
"Not so," answered the newcomer, in a clear voice; "but it is the sonof Dakt—who has avenged his father's death. Look upon me! I am Oknu,King of the Royal Tribe of Okolom. Dares any dispute my right torule?"
No voice answered the challenge. Instead, every head of the sevenhundred was bowed in silent homage to Oknu the son of Dakt, the firstKing of the Okolom.
This site is full of FREE ebooks -Project Gutenberg Australia