Saskia was an American Indian girl. She lived on an Indian Reservation with her father and her mother. Her mother was a school teacher and her father was a lawyer. When she became twelve years old her parents gave her a very big birthday party. They invited all forty of her relatives who also lived on the reservation. She had many cousins and aunts and uncles. She even had two sets of grandparents. She noticed the presents they brought were from the city stores. They were very nice, bubble bath, cologne, ribbons, hair brush, cute stockings, a book about horses, two blouses with lace, nail polish, lip gloss, and a pink sweater.

Just before she blew out the candles on her cake she noticed a package sitting on the open window sill. It was wrapped in bark and tied with leather strips.

“What is this?” Saskia asked, looking around the room.

No one replied. They all looked as puzzled as she.

“Open it! Open it!” The cousins cried.

So she did. It was a beautiful old Indian blanket soft and big enough to wrap around her.

“This design is your great, great, grandmothers, Saskia.” Her grandmother said reaching for the blanket. “It is very old.”

Saskia was thrilled. She closed her eyes, made a wish, and blew out every one of her candles with one breath. Everyone clapped their hands and sang a birthday song to her.

“Before I cut my cake, I have an announcement to make.” She said standing as tall as she could, and speaking in a very grown up voice.

“Now that I am twelve, I am no longer a girl, I am a woman. As an Indian woman I feel it is time for me to make a contribution to my people. I want to become a true Indian and bring something of the past back into our lives.”

“Saskia.” Said her mother “ You make pottery just like your ancestors before you. That is part of your Indian self.”

“Yes, but that is not enough.” Said Saskia to her puzzled family. “I need to do something more.”

“I will teach you to weave blankets just like your great grandmothers. ” said her grandmother.

“Thank you, we will do that soon. Now I must do more.” Saskia replied.

“Times change Saskia.” Said her father. “Years ago Indians had to hunt for all their food. Today we go to the supermarket. The past was not always easy.”

“And years ago,” Said Jeronimo, her cousin. “Indians used to fight wars with the white settlers and other tribes. Today we live in peace.”

“Oh I am not going to war. And, I am not going to hunt game. I am going to the Red Mountain to speak with our ancestors. They will tell me what I must do to bring a symbol of the past into our lives today.”

“Red Mountain!” said several of her small cousins. “No one goes up there. It is dangerous. The wind is very cold in the Red Mountain.”

“There are real ghosts up there!” said a little cousin.

“They aren’t ghosts, they are the spirits of Indians buried on the mountain top.” Saskia answered.

“I suppose you could find some old arrowheads to bring back.” Jeronimo teased her.

“ I might.” Saskia looked right into Jeronimo’s eyes as she answered him. “Or I might find some part of our Indian heritage that we have almost forgotten.”

Saskia’s parents pleaded with her to stay home, but she convinced them to let her go for two days and one night. “You must be back before sunset on the second day.” Her parents told her.

Her mother packed food for the journey. She made peanut butter sandwiches, six Oreo cookies, three pickles and a thermos of orange tea.

Her father was worried. “Saskia, why don’t you wait until you are older?” He said. “You know your cousins probably would like to go with you.”

“No father, my cousins are afraid of the Red Mountain. I am not afraid. Please do not worry, I will be careful.” Saskia answered her father as she hugged him.
Her mother hugged her and wrapped her great great grandmothers blanket around her shoulders. “The spirit of the blanket weavers will keep you warm on the mountain.”

It was early in the morning as Saskia set out for the Red Mountain. She hummed a little Indian tune as she walked. She reached the bottom of the mountain just at lunch time and sat on a large rock to eat. She could see her Indian village in the distance. It looked so small, like a child’s toy.

Soon she was climbing the big red cliffs and rocks. She found a trail and followed it to the top. Night was falling by the time she reached the Indian burial ground. The wind was cold, she wrapped the blanket around her. Her mother was right, the spirit of the blanket weavers kept her warm. She had her supper, and quickly fell sound asleep.

During the night Saskia could hear the voices speaking to her. They told her she was a very brave Indian. They told her father was a warrior, and that times have changed so he did not have to fight with arrows and guns. He wins his battles for Indian rights and Indian land in court. Saskia knew her father had just won a case giving thousands of acres of land back to her village. But she had never thought of him being a warrior. She smiled in her sleep. The voices of her ancestors told her she would not find the answer to her question on the mountain. But, she would find it soon. It was an important mission she was on, they all agreed. And then the voices were silent, only the wind was whispering as she slept.

In the morning Saskia climbed down the mountain trail. She was disappointed that she did not find what she was looking for on Red Mountain. When she reached the bottom of the mountain she sat down to rest and eat her lunch. Once again she saw her village. It was a long way away and she promised to be home by sunset. She walked a little faster now. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. There not a hundred feet from her stood the biggest animal she had ever seen.

Her heart was beating very fast. She recognized the animal from pictures. It was a buffalo.

The animal spoke to her in a gruff voice. “ Brave Indian did you come to take our hide and make a warrior robe?”

Saskia looked the animal over for a minute. She had seen pictures of the beautiful buffalo robes on her ancestors. This buffalo didn’t look so beautiful. In fact this buffalo looked pretty scruffy. She took a deep breath.

“No, I have been to the mountain to speak with my ancestors.” She said in her best grown up voice.

“And, they didn’t send you here to get our hides?” The scruffy buffalo asked.

“You sound disappointed Buffalo.” Saskia said.

“Oh I am relieved you are going to spare me. But disappointed maybe because it seems Indians no longer need us.” Buffalo said in a sad gruff voice. “The Indians used to consider the buffalo an important part of their lives. They depended on us for so many things. They called us the shadow of the sun. Of course there were millions of buffalo roaming the plains, now there are only a few of us left.”

Saskia noticed the big buffalo was not alone. There were about a dozen other buffalo spread out behind him. They were scratching at the dry brown earth to find little grasses and roots to eat.

Buffalo spoke again. “ What else did your ancestors tell you Brave Indian?”

“They said my father is a warrior.” Saskia said proudly.

“You sure he won’t want my hide?” asked Buffalo.

“No. no. He is not that kind of warrior.” Saskia laughed out loud.

“Tell me about the Indians today.” Buffalo said.

Saskia took another deep breath and said “We go to school and read and write. We shop like the white man does in stores. We live in houses and pueblos like we always have, but we have television and refrigerators and micro-.....”

“Stop!” interrupted Buffalo. “I have no idea what you are talking about. What kind of warrior is your father?”

“He fights for Indian rights in the courts. In fact he just won a case giving our village thousands of acres of land.” Saskia answered.

Buffalo suddenly looked up at her and thought for a moment. Then he asked, “Thousands of acres of land? Is there grass on that land?”

Saskia was stunned for a moment. She remembered the voices from the mountain saying: “You will not find your answer on the mountain, but you will find it soon.”

Saskia walked slowly toward Buffalo. She reached out her hand to touch the top of his head. She was not afraid of his horns. He was not afraid of her.

She said “Buffalo, you are more than just an animal. You are a part of our past. You are part of the Indian past we have almost forgotten. Yes, there is grass on our land. Will you come home with me and live on our land as your ancestors did before you?”

“I will gather my herd” Said a happy Buffalo. “and we will follow you to your village.”

Just as the sun was setting on the second day a very tired and happy Saskia returned to her village with her special contribution.

From that day on she was known as SASKIA - BUFFALO WOMAN.

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