Before any rain fell, however, lightning, like tree roots, flashed grotesquely, striking many objects at once. Thunder claps, reverberating through the craggy hills, shook the ground. The buffalo tossed their shaggy heads as static electrons gathered on the tips of their horns, causing flames like lighted candles to appear.

Disturbed by the heavily charged air, the buffalo swarmed nervously in a tight herd ready for flight before the impending storm. But, before the herd could dash away in a wild stampede, many grotesquely painted giants appeared, mounted on huge white horses. Now there occurred a blinding downpour, as the phantom riders, long spears poised high, came charging down upon the hapless beasts. The giant horses were agile and swift, and they came upon the snorting herd in an instant. Horns clashing, hooves rattling, the buffalo attempted to dodge the hunters of the sky. But with every stroke, a frightened animal toppled like a bolt of lightning. A vicious wind twisted trees apart, hurtling the branches into the air. The awful scene was terrible to behold. A heavy downpour plunged the landscape into darkness. The earth hunters watched in horror as the hellish drama of wanton slaughter unfolded before their unbelieving eyes.

As swiftly as it had come, the storm passed on to the east, leaving calm and sunshine. In the light of the sun there was a shocking scene, with carcasses of dead buffalo strewn over the landscape, their bodies mangled and twisted. Some of the buffalo were already bloating in the hot sun. In the soft, rain-soaked turf the hoof prints of the giant horses cut deep into the spongy soil. It was a spectacle comparable only to a bad dream, as the Lakota are wont to say.

Legends of the Lakota, p. 62-63