Previously:

As they were munching the precious delicacies, they told Tommy he could tell his story about the crow now and they promised to not interrupt him.

Tommy wasn't sure how long they could hold to their promise, but he would begin.

***********

"Okay, you can tell us why your tribe color is black. See, I was listening. I heard everything. You also said you'd tell us a story about why Crow is black. People don't think I'm paying attention, but I hear everything." Liz was making this grand announcement as she was finishing the last mouthful of pecan pie and picking the precious crumbs from the front of her shirt.

Tommy saw his opening and told them that just as yellow is for the rising sun in the East so too, is black the appropriate color for the setting sun.

"The story of why Crow is black has two parts. They both have unpleasant happenings."

Tommy had gotten out to sit in the passenger's seat so he could relax as he did earlier. He looked in their direction to see if that was okay.

"We'll be fine with that." They answered immediately. They'd been waiting a long time to hear this story and wanted no more delays. They would soon be parting ways with this great storyteller.

This suspense reminded Liz of the TV series shows where she had to wait until next week to know what was going to happen to her favorite characters.

"You are familiar with buffalo hunters and their techniques, I hope."

"Yes," they said.

He told of the dilemma the hunters had getting enough meat. "The buffalo were too smart for the hunters. They were worried their people would starve if they couldn't outwit the buffalo. One wise hunter had an idea."

The plan as Tommy explained it was to challenge the buffalo to a race. The braves would get in the lead to give the impression there was flat solid land ahead.

When they got to the edge of the cliff, they would step to the side. The stampede would not be able to halt in time.

"They tumbled one after another over the steep cliff."

Tommy told the story with such great detail, the ladies could easily imagine the victorious hunters' chants of gratitude to the Creator. They thanked the buffalo for offering themselves to feed everyone.

Their village, filled with men, women, and children who had empty stomachs, would be eating for a good long time. They would use everything from the kill. Unlike many non-natives, Indigenous people wasted nothing.

"As time passed, the hunters noticed they were running low on their food. 'We see plenty of buffalo when we are not hunting for them. The times we are out hunting them, we see none.' They knew they had to find out what was happening."

"They wondered who could be warning the buffalo when the hunters were coming for them."

Tommy told how they prepared for the hunt, but sent a scout to investigate the cheater who told the buffalo of their intentions.

"As the scout crept up to a bush to hide behind, he saw a great group of bison gathering. It was one of the largest herds he had ever seen."

The story continued with a surprising element. "At that moment, a white crow flew down to light upon one of the head buffalo's horns. The concealed spy saw the traitor whisper something into the bull's ear.

"He was startled to see Crow fly into the air screeching, 'caw...caw...caw' then vanish into the clouds."

Tommy continued to tell of everyone's reaction to the report. Because of their anger, they directed the scout to return on another hunting day and grab Crow to carry back to the seething hunters.

The scout crept back into his hiding niche and awaited Crow's arrival. The hunter scout crouched, readying himself to pounce when the time was right. As a flicker of white appeared against the darkening clouds, his leg muscles flexed and his lungs filled.

"He knew it was a delicate balance of timing. If he lunged too quickly, he would miss the precise moment of contact. If he waited too long and moved too slowly, Crow would be in his warning stance on the buffalo's horn again. This would mean another day of hunting wasted.

"He felt the sense of responsibility weigh heavily upon his young shoulders of twenty-one summers. His mind raced as he leapt toward the white wing."

Tommy clapped his hands together to emphasize the importance of the captor's actions. "He had him. Carrying him back in his rolled-up shirt prevented Crow from slashing at him with his beak or claws.

"His walking into the hovel of hunters caused a great eruption of emotions. Some were rejoicing, some relieved, but most revisited their rage."

Both Linda and Liz wanted to ask about why Tommy kept referring to a white-colored crow. They'd only ever seen black ones. There had a promise made to not interrupt him. It would be difficult, but they would just have to sit on their hands.

Tucking their hands under them acted as a reminder to hold their tongue. They both talked with their hands fluttering, so if they couldn't use them, this was a good deterrent.

They looked at each other with gritted teeth, knowing the other was working just as hard resisting saying one word. It was so unlike them to remain quiet for so long.

As if Tommy sensed their antsiness, he gathered courage and continued. He noted they had been quiet for an unusual amount of time for them.

"Without warning, one of the older men snatched the crow from the youth's arms and flung the bird into the burning coals. Crow escaped. He must have landed close enough to have brought about a change for all crows to come.

"As he flew upward from the singeing flames, a black feather slowly, silently swirled to the ground.

"And that my ladies, is why all crows are black." After pausing, he commended them for their show of respect.

Stretching his arm, Tommy yawned the next words. " I don't know about you, but I am tired and need to get some shut-eye. We've got a day of unknowns ahead of us tomorrow. I think we need all the rest we can get."