Touches of Wonder and Terror. James C. Glass
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with lolling tongues, and menacing, amber eyes. Their hot, rank breath flooded his senses. He closed his eyes with fright.
“John Natani,” said a voice.
He opened his eyes. Before him the bulls stood closely together, drooling. Between them, clothed in a simple white robe, stood a young woman. Dark, Amerind eyes gazed out from a finely chiseled face framed by the robe’s hood. Her skin glowed like polished marble in the moonlight, slender arms caressing the shaggy manes of the sentinels who pressed closely to her.
“Ptesanwan,” said John.
“I am called that by some,” she replied. Her full lips moved, but the movement was not that of the words he sensed in his mind. Her speech was soundless, and somehow he was not surprised.
“You have lived through a dangerous day,” she said seriously.
“The Wambli you sent helped me to survive.”
“The bird sought an easy meal; I did not send him. When he saw you would live he flew away, and I heard his anger, just as I have heard your confused prayers.”
“You have come to me,” he said, wincing. With the few words he had spoken his dry lips were bleeding again.
“I come to water and sweet grass, away from the crawling people. We will sleep here this night. I hear your voice, and many others. You are full of self-pity. Must I stand before you? You do not listen to your own heart.”
The rebuke was knife-edge sharp in his mind. Was this a dream? He thought not, and summoned his courage for the moment.
“Ptesanwan, I ask for no material thing, only advice on the direction of my life. I wish to be useful.”
“Are you not useful now?” she asked, and scowled at him.
“I have no job, and I’ve dropped out of school. I don’t have any goals, and I—”
“—You care about the people, and show love for them, yet you say you are not useful. This is a foolish statement. To give your love is to give all. Your accomplishment is the respect you have for others.”
John’s disappointment was heavy in his heart, but he feared argument with the vision before him. “Is there nothing more?” he asked gloomily.
“There is, but you have already decided your course. You need nothing more from me, and you are weary from your quest. The people will tend to you, and then we will all rest.”
He was commanded, and confused. John nodded his head wearily and looked up at the finely chiseled features and glowing skin. The words escaped him before he had a chance to think. “You are very beautiful,” he said. “I wonder if you are a dream.”
She smiled then, and his heart quickened. “Your mind has chosen the image you see,” she said. “It is interesting.” She looked deep into his eyes, and then suddenly slapped the shoulders of the massive bulls beside her. “Tend to him, and I will find water.”
The bulls moved closer to him, amber eyes glaring. Only weakness kept him from scrambling away to the safety of the trees. Their foul breath was hot in his face, and he closed his eyes.
The bulls began to lick him.
Two great tongues licked at his body, moving him from side to side with a lulling rhythm, quickening his circulation until he felt tingling in his legs and hips. There was a gurgling sound; he opened his eyes and saw the white cow pawing at the ground near him, water bubbling from the depression she had made. He crawled to the place, bulls following, still licking him, and he tasted the water. It was sweet, in a land where nearly all water was alkaline. He drank his fill of it, while the bulls continued to massage him until it seemed he was a glowing flame between them.
“Come lie with me, and you will be warm tonight,” said a voice in his head.
John crawled to where the cow had settled down on dry needles beneath a juniper tree, and snuggled against her belly while the bulls pressed in close to them. She nuzzled his head as he drifted into sleep, feeling the softness of arms around his neck and smiling again as he found the children still there, playing with the ball and calling to him to join their game.
He awoke alone beneath the tree, surrounded by grass crushed flat beneath the weight of sleeping buffalo. Two rangers on horseback encountered him as he climbed up out of the canyon. He told them only about his ordeal with the snake, and they put him on a horse, themselves riding double and upwind from him to escape the terrible odor he emanated.
On the long ride back across the high plateau they saw the buffalo herd grazing quietly hundreds of yards from their trail. John searched in vain for the white cow. The rangers asked John what he did, and he said he was starting university, and they asked what he would study, and he said he intended to teach elementary school, and they joked about the poor pay for teachers and rangers. It was several minutes before John fully realized what he had said to them. He was filled with both sadness and excitement, sending out a silent promise to someday return with children for Ptesanwan to look upon, and as they rode, a Wambli swooped low over them, heading east into the rising sun, leading the way.
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