//------------------------------//
// Falling Rocks and the Blinding Sun 
// Story: The Legend of Falling Rocks, Buffalo Brave 
// by Titanium Dragon 
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	Long ago, when the buffalo lived in the land of their ancestors, there was a buffalo brave named Falling Rocks. In those days, all of the buffalo were one tribe, and the Great Chief Smoking Mountain led the people. The days had been long and good, but when the spirits of the sky turned on our people, Falling Rocks had to tell them to go, and never return.

At first, the melting of the ice was a blessing; with the blanket of snow gone from the land, there was much water, and the grass grew green and thick. But without the spirits of the sky to bring clouds for the people, there was no shade, and the sun hung high in the sky, blinding the people as they stampeded across the plains.

The Great Chief Smoking Mountain looked upon his people with a heavy heart once more, for they stumbled into each other as they ran, and fell into rivers, and tripped over rocks. And so he called upon the brave Falling Rocks once more.

“Falling Rocks,” he said. “The sun hangs in the sky, and the people cannot see.”

Falling Rocks bowed his head. “I will speak to the other peoples of this land, and learn how they find their way.” And so Falling Rocks left his people once more to help them.

First he went to speak to Sister Cow, for she had long been the friends of his people, standing aside as the buffalo stampeded by as they grazed on the grass. “Sister Cow,” he said, “tell me, how is it that you do not stumble around blind with the sun hanging so heavy on our heads?”

“That is easy,” she replied, and she showed him how she took her dung, and spat in it, and placed it on her cheeks.

“Thank you, sister,” Falling Rocks said, but in his heart, he did not thank her, for she stank, and did not help him.

And so he went to Brother Donkey, for he had long been the friend of his people, living in the swamp where no buffalo would walk. “Brother Donkey,” he said, “tell me, how is it that you do not fall into the swamp with the sun searing our eyes?”

“That is easy,” he replied, and he showed him how he took the mud from the swamp and placed it on his cheeks.

“Thank you, brother,” Falling Rocks said, but in his heart, he did not thank him, for he was covered with flies, and did not help him.

Falling Rocks despaired, but then remembered the ponies he had given his blanket to. And so he travelled to the sacred mountain, and found many of them there, in all colors. But there he saw that they would be no help, for they, too, were blind, wandering around their houses of stone and falling in their fields.

With sorrow in his heart, Falling Rocks turned away from the ponies, but then he saw some, all black, with their heads hanging low. But they were not blind. He spoke to them.

“Brother ponies,” he asked, “How is it that you can see?”

“We can see because our cheeks are black, but our eyes only remind us that we lack the color of our friends. We would leave this place, but we have no boats.”

“We have canoes,” said Falling Rocks. “But we have cheeks of many colors, but not black, and so we cannot see.”

“Perhaps we can trade,” the ponies said.

And so the ponies came with Falling Rocks, and the buffalo took the black from their hides and put stripes under their eyes, and could see. In their joy, they gave the ponies, now half-black and half-white, their canoes, and the ponies went off over the great waters where they would not be reminded of the color of their friends.

And that is how zebras got their stripes.