“My son, the buffalo are on the move,” his father answered patiently. “You know that we would not have our tepees, our best food and clothing, and little of anything else without the great buffalo. When they decide to move, we must move with them. The scouts who have been watching the herd tell us that it has started to leave for new feeding grounds.”
Without another word, Grey Calf got up quickly and began helping his mother gather their belongings. He helped her take down the tepee. Then she built the travois rapidly, and he helped her pack and load their belongings onto it.
Soon, where once a proud village had stood, hardly anything was left standing. The men set out ahead on their horses, followed by the women and children on horses, the smaller children sometimes riding on the travois, their mothers and the older children riding astride the horses’ backs. Grey Calf, like many other of the older boys, was riding his own pony near his mother.
The scouts were far ahead of them, keeping close touch with the wandering buffalo herd, and signaling the tribe to tell the braves which way to lead their families. The scouts were also watching carefully for roving bands of the Crows’ enemies, for they were near Cheyenne territory, but they saw none.
Just as Grey Calf was ready to ask his mother if the buffalo herd would never stop roaming, a scout raced his horse back to tell the braves that the herd was circling around, ready to settle down near fresh water and food. The Chief gave the signal, and all the families went to work busily setting up their tepees. Before too long, smoke was rising lazily from the fires which circled their new village. The trek had taken most of the day, and the women were beginning to cook the evening meal.
The braves were watering their thirsty horses, and then would put them out to graze. Grey Calf did all he could to help his mother get their meal ready quickly because he was very hungry. When all the small chores had been completed, the families gathered at their tepees, to eat the food that smelled so good to all the children.
It wasn’t long after Grey Calf had eaten that he began to feel drowsy. Saying goodnight to his father and mother, he went into the tepee, rolled himself in his warm buffalo robe (because the prairie night would be cool), and was soon sound asleep.
The next day dawned as one of great excitement, for word came to the tepee of Grey Calf that today One Horn, the great buffalo hunter, was going to take the young braves on their first buffalo hunt.
Like other Crow boys, Grey Calf had spent many days preparing patiently for this great event. His father had taught him how to ride his pony and to shoot the bow and arrow. He had learned how to ride into a herd and to shoot from beneath his pony’s neck. And now that great day was here. One Horn, the greatest of buffalo hunters in the tribe, would give the young braves their last lesson before taking them out onto the prairie for the actual hunt.
When the young braves had gathered, One Horn stepped to the center of the circle and gave his final instructions, warning them not to be too eager but to take their time and make sure of their shot. And above all, he warned them, as soon as they had made their shot they must swerve away from the herd. In this way they would be out of danger if the herd should spread out to avoid trampling its fallen members.