The Legend of Buffalo

In the beginning, there were only Buffalo, Sloth, and Weasel. One day, Buffalo, being the hard worker that he was, decided to create the world. And so he did. The world was perfectly made. "Look, do you see, Sloth and Weasel?" asked Buffalo.

Sloth managed to sit up and gaze down at the new world. "Yeah, whatever," he sighed. Then he lied back down.

"And Weasel, do you see what I have made?" asked Buffalo. But Weasel was already gone, scurrying off toward the world with a greedy gleam in his eye.

"Mine! All mine!" Weasel screeched excitedly. Buffalo shook his head, and then looked at Sloth.

Sloth lazily glanced back at Buffalo. "You know," he yawned, "Weasel's going to be pretty bored down there. There's nothing there at all. Why don't you do something about it?" Sloth then fell asleep. Buffalo was disgusted at Sloth's lack of ambition.

Over the next week there was no sign of Weasel and Sloth still slept. However, that was no problem for Buffalo. He was busy creating more of the new world. He cried a single tear and instantly there was water covering the entire world. He took a lone hair from his head and thrust it down toward the world. Instantly, land rose up out of the water. With a breath from his mighty lungs, Buffalo dried the new land and at the same time created wind. He clawed at the land, and mountains stood up and walked to their places. At last satisfied, Buffalo looked back on his creation. "Perfect," he said to himself. "Everything is perfect." At that moment, Sloth woke up.

"Sloth, do you like this ideal new world that I have created?" asked Buffalo.

"No. There's no one on it. Weasel will get awfully lonely down there all by himself."

"Ahh, you're right!" screamed Buffalo. "I'm on it." He had not even rested yet and he was back to work on a new project. Buffalo then proceeded to make all the other animals. He made all the birds of the sky, and sent them into flight, their flocks a sea of feathers. Then he made all the fish and other creatures of their sea, and made them to swim, their scales shining like tiny mirrors. Then he made all the other land animals, including other buffaloes, sloths, and weasels. He had finished making every creature imaginable to him except humans. He was saving humans for last.

"What are you doing now?" asked Sloth as he sluggishly sat back up again.

"I'm creating my final creature--my masterpiece--humans," said Buffalo as he diligently worked on creating humans of the first Native American tribe. Every detail had to be correct; everything had to be just right. Just then, Weasel reappeared.

"Hi guys, what are you--ooh humans! Let me play with them!" squealed Weasel. He took one of the humans and began dancing around with it. "Tee-hee! Oh what fun! Sloth, come play with us!"

In his classic, lazy manner, Sloth replied, "I can't."

Really, Sloth was jealous. He envied the way Buffalo could just make anything he pleased. And because Sloth lacked Buffalo's initiative, he could never hope to create things as wonderfully as he did.

"Wait!" Buffalo interjected. "You can't just start playing with these humans! They're not finished yet! Get out of my way, you're making them imperfect." He nudged Weasel aside and continued with his work.

After the day was done, Buffalo was content with his humans, at least for the most part. "I'm happy with them, I really am. But there's something missing, and I'm not quite sure what it is." He stayed up well into the night trying the figure out what the missing piece was, but to no avail. The next day he realized that he would just have to send the humans down to the new world the way they were. He could always add to them later. And that he did-- the humans were now on the world, and everything there was finished.

While the humans may not have been good enough for Buffalo, they seemed perfect to Sloth. He was beside himself with jealousy. Too tired to get up, he called Weasel over. Together they whispered behind Buffalo's back.

"I'm sick of Buffalo. He works and makes all these beautiful things that I just can't do. He gets all the credit for everything, even though we're up here too," murmured Sloth.

"Yeah, why does he get all the fun? I tried playing with one of his new humans, and he berated me!" squeaked Weasel.

"I'm so tired of his perfectionism! Doesn't he ever rest? He always acts so high and mighty."

"Okay, but what are we supposed to do about it?"

"You could kill him," suggested Sloth. Sloth was more evil and cunning than he appeared, but his lack of ambition and energy kept him from really doing anything harmful. He always acted through someone else. "Tonight, in his sleep, gather some flames from the sun and light his hide on fire!"

"Alright, I'll do it!" Weasel snapped eagerly. That night, Buffalo went to sleep early, exhausted from the work he had completed in the past few weeks and glad to finally be able to rest. Once Sloth was sure Buffalo was asleep, he nodded to Weasel. Weasel scurried off to the other side of the world to find the sun and gather some of its fire. A few hours later, he returned, out of breath but in possession of fire. He tiptoed up to Buffalo, who was sleeping in a perfect position and listened. Buffalo's breaths indicated that he was sound asleep. Weasel took the fire and placed it on Buffalo's hide. Without even a panicked shout, Buffalo's body instantly went up in flames. Sloth looked at Weasel.

"That's weird, he didn't even wake up," wondered Sloth out loud. Then he noticed the ashes. They were spreading all over the place like wildfire. "Oh, no! Stop them!" He raised his right arm, but that accomplished nothing. Failing to be able to stand, he was forced to watch as the ashes descended upon the new world. Weasel ran around, squawking with glee at the havoc this was causing.

The ashes traveled down through the sky until they almost touched the ground of the new world. Once there, they floated towards the nearest human. In the end, all of the humans had different sized clouds of ashes surrounding them.

As one, the ashes seemingly passed though the flesh of the humans and into their hearts. Instantly the humans started running about, busy with tasks to do and things to worry about. Sloth glanced nervously at Weasel. They both realized that all the humans now had a bit of Buffalo in them.

And so the habit of perfectionism came about. That is why every human being today has a drive and a will to do something. While some have it more than others, all of us have Buffalo's internal force in our hearts. That is also why today, our great Indian Nation still hunts buffalo. We all strive for more of that perfection, more of that drive. We all strive in vain.