<p><SPAN name="ii_iii_b_4" id="ii_iii_b_4"></SPAN>4. <i>The division of the universal herd.</i>—Until the building of the
first transcontinental railway made it possible to market the “buffalo
product,” buffalo hunting as a business was almost wholly in the hands
of the Indians. Even then, the slaughter so far exceeded the natural
increase that the narrowing limits of the buffalo range was watched with
anxiety, and the ultimate extinction of the species confidently
predicted. Even without railroads the extermination of the race would
have taken place eventually, but it would have been delayed perhaps
twenty years. With a recklessness of the future that was not to be
expected of savages, though perhaps perfectly natural to civilized white
men, who place the possession of a dollar above everything else, the
Indians with one accord singled out the <i>cows</i> for slaughter, because
their robes and their flesh better suited the fastidious taste of the
noble redskin. The building of the Union Pacific Railway began at Omaha
in 1865, and during that year 40 miles were constructed. The year
following saw the completion of 265 miles more, and in 1867 245 miles
were added, which brought it to Cheyenne. In 1868, 350 miles were built,
and in 1869 the entire line was open to traffic.</p>
<p>In 1867, when Maj. J. W. Powell and Prof. A. H. Thompson crossed the
plains by means of the Union Pacific Railway as far as it was
constructed and thence onward by wagon, they saw during the entire trip
only one live buffalo, a solitary old bull, wandering aimlessly along
the south bank of the Platte River.</p>
<p>The completion of the Union Pacific Railway divided forever the
buffaloes of the United States into two great herds, which thereafter
became known respectively as the northern and southern herds. Both
retired rapidly and permanently from the railway, and left a strip of
country over 50 miles wide almost uninhabited by them. Although many
thousand buffaloes were killed by hunters who made the Union Pacific
Railway their base of operations, the two great bodies retired north and
south so far that the greater number were beyond striking distance from
that line.</p>
<p><SPAN name="ii_iii_b_5" id="ii_iii_b_5"></SPAN>5. <i>The destruction of the southern herd.</i>—The geographical center of
the great southern herd during the few years of its separate existence
previous to its destruction was very near the present site of Garden
City, Kansas. On the east, even as late as 1872, thousands of buffaloes
ranged within 10 miles of Wichita, which was then the headquarters <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_493"></SPAN></span>of a
great number of buffalo-hunters, who plied their occupation vigorously
during the winter. On the north the herd ranged within 25 miles of the
Union Pacific, until the swarm of hunters coming down from the north
drove them farther and farther south. On the west, a few small bands
ranged as far as Pike’s Peak and the South Park, but the main body
ranged east of the town of Pueblo, Colorado. In the southwest, buffaloes
were abundant as far as the Pecos and the Staked Plains, while the
southern limit of the herd was about on a line with the southern
boundary of New Mexico. Regarding this herd, Colonel Dodge writes as
follows: “Their most prized feeding ground was the section of country
between the South Platte and Arkansas rivers, watered by the Republican,
Smoky, Walnut, Pawnee, and other parallel or tributary streams, and
generally known as the Republican country. Hundreds of thousands went
south from here each winter, but hundreds of thousands remained. It was
the chosen home of the buffalo.”</p>
<p>Although the range of the northern herd covered about twice as much
territory as did the southern, the latter contained probably twice as
many buffaloes. The number of individuals in the southern herd in the
year 1871 must have been at least three millions, and most estimates
place the total much higher than that.</p>
<p>During the years from 1866 to 1871, inclusive, the Atchison, Topeka and
Santa Fé Railway and what is now known as the Kansas Pacific, or Kansas
division of the Union Pacific Railway, were constructed from the
Missouri River westward across Kansas, and through the heart of the
southern buffalo range. The southern herd was literally cut to pieces by
railways, and every portion of its range rendered easily accessible.
There had always been a market for buffalo robes at a fair price, and as
soon as the railways crossed the buffalo country the slaughter began.
The rush to the range was only surpassed by the rush to the gold mines
of California in earlier years. The railroad builders, teamsters,
fortune-seekers, “professional” hunters, trappers, guides, and every one
out of a job turned out to hunt buffalo for hides and meat. The
merchants who had already settled in all the little towns along the
three great railways saw an opportunity to make money out of the buffalo
product, and forthwith began to organize and supply hunting parties with
arms, ammunition, and provisions, and send them to the range. An immense
business of this kind was done by the merchants of Dodge City (Fort
Dodge), Wichita, and Leavenworth, and scores of smaller towns did a
corresponding amount of business in the same line. During the years 1871
to 1874 but little else was done in that country except buffalo killing.
Central depots were established in the best buffalo country, from whence
hunting parties operated in all directions. Buildings were erected for
the curing of meat, and corrals were built in which to heap up the
immense piles of buffalo skins that accumulated. At Dodge City, as late
as 1878, Professor Thompson saw a <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_494"></SPAN></span>lot of baled buffalo skins in a
corral, the solid cubical contents of which he calculated to equal 120
cords.</p>
<p>At first the utmost wastefulness prevailed. Every one wanted to kill
buffalo, and no one was willing to do the skinning and curing. Thousands
upon thousands of buffaloes were killed for their tongues alone, and
never skinned. Thousands more were wounded by unskillful marksmen and
wandered off to die and become a total loss. But the climax of
wastefulness and sloth was not reached until the enterprising
buffalo-butcher began to skin his dead buffaloes by horse-power. The
process is of interest, as showing the depth of degradation to which a
man can fall and still call himself a hunter. The skin of the buffalo
was ripped open along the belly and throat, the legs cut around at the
knees, and ripped up the rest of the way. The skin of the neck was
divided all the way around at the back of the head, and skinned back a
few inches to afford a start. A stout iron bar, like a hitching post,
was then driven through the skull and about 18 inches into the earth,
after which a rope was tied very firmly to the thick skin of the neck,
made ready for that purpose. The other end of this rope was then hitched
to the whiffletree of a pair of horses, or to the rear axle of a wagon,
the horses were whipped up, and the skin was forthwith either torn in
two or torn off the buffalo with about 50 pounds of flesh adhering to
it. It soon became apparent to even the most enterprising buffalo
skinner that this method was not an unqualified success, and it was
presently abandoned.</p>
<p>The slaughter which began in 1871 was prosecuted with great vigor and
enterprise in 1872, and reached its heighten 1873. By that time, the
buffalo country fairly swarmed with hunters, each, party putting forth
its utmost efforts to destroy more buffaloes than its rivals. By that
time experience had taught the value of thorough organization, and the
butchering was done in a more business-like way. By a coincidence that
proved fatal to the bison, it was just at the beginning of the slaughter
that breech-loading, long-range rifles attained what was practically
perfection. The Sharps 40-90 or 45-120, and the Remington were the
favorite weapons of the buffalo-hunter, the former being the one in most
general use. Before the leaden hail of thousands of these deadly
breech-loaders the buffaloes went down at the rate of several thousand
daily during the hunting season.</p>
<p>During the years 1871 and 1872 the most wanton wastefulness prevailed.
Colonel Dodge declares that, though hundreds of thousands of skins were
sent to market, they scarcely indicated the extent of the slaughter.
Through want of skill in shooting and want of knowledge in preserving
the hides of those slain by green hunters, <i>one hide sent to market
represented three, four, or even five dead buffalo</i>. The skinners and
curers knew so little of the proper mode of curing hides, that at least
half of those actually taken were lost. In the summer and fall of 1872
one hide sent to market represented at least <i>three</i> dead buffalo. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_495"></SPAN></span>This
condition of affairs rapidly improved; but such was the furor for
slaughter, and the ignorance of all concerned, that every hide sent to
market in 1871 represented no less than <i>five</i> dead buffalo.</p>
<p>By 1873 the condition of affairs had somewhat improved, through better
organization of the hunting parties and knowledge gained by experience
in curing. For all that, however, buffaloes were still so exceedingly
plentiful, and shooting was so much easier than skinning, the latter was
looked upon as a necessary evil and still slighted to such an extent
that every hide actually sold and delivered represented two dead
buffaloes.</p>
<p>In 1874 the slaughterers began to take alarm at the increasing scarcity
of buffalo, and the skinners, having a much smaller number of dead
animals to take care of than ever before, were able to devote more time
to each subject and do their work properly. As a result, Colonel Dodge
estimated that during 1874, and from that time on, one hundred skins
delivered represented not more than one hundred and twenty-five dead
buffaloes; but that “no parties have ever got the proportion lower than
this.”</p>
<p>The great southern herd was slaughtered by still-hunting, a method which
has already been fully described. A typical hunting party is thus
described by Colonel Dodge:<SPAN name="fnanchor_64_64" id="fnanchor_64_64"></SPAN><SPAN href="#footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</SPAN></p>
<p>“The most approved party consisted of four men—one shooter, two
skinners, and one man to cook, stretch hides, and take care of camp.
Where buffalo were very plentiful the number of skinners was increased.
A light wagon, drawn by two horses or mules, takes the outfit into the
wilderness, and brings into camp the skins taken each day. The outfit is
most meager: a sack of flour, a side of bacon, 5 pounds of coffee, tea,
and sugar, a little salt, and possibly a few beans, is a month’s supply.
A common or “A” tent furnishes shelter; a couple of blankets for each
man is a bed. One or more of Sharps or Remington’s heaviest sporting
rifles, and an unlimited supply of ammunition, is the armament; while a
coffee-pot, Dutch-oven, frying-pan, four tin plates, and four tin cups
constitute the kitchen and table furniture.</p>
<p>“The skinning knives do duty at the platter, and ‘fingers were made
before forks.’ Nor must be forgotten one or more 10-gallon kegs for
water, as the camp may of necessity be far away from a stream. The
supplies are generally furnished by the merchant for whom the party is
working, who, in addition, pays each of the party a specified percentage
of the value of the skins delivered. The shooter is carefully selected
for his skill and knowledge of the habits of the buffalo. He is captain
and leader of the party. When all is ready, he plunges into the
wilderness, going to the center of the best buffalo region known to him,
not already occupied (for there are unwritten regulations recognized as
laws, giving to each hunter certain rights of discovery and occupancy).
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_496"></SPAN></span>Arrived at the position, he makes his camp in some hidden ravine or
thicket, and makes all ready for work.”</p>
<p>Of course the slaughter was greatest along the lines of the three great
railways—the Kansas Pacific, the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé, and the
Union Pacific, about in the order named. It reached its height in the
season of 1873. During that year the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé
Railroad carried out of the buffalo country 251,443 robes, 1,017,600
pounds of meat, and 2,743,100 pounds of bones. The end of the southern
herd was then near at hand. Could the southern buffalo range have been
roofed over at that time it would have made one vast charnel-house.
Putrifying carcasses, many of them with the hide still on, lay thickly
scattered over thousands of square miles of the level prairie, poisoning
the air and water and offending the sight. The remaining herds had
become mere scattered bands, harried and driven hither and thither by
the hunters, who now swarmed almost as thickly as the buffaloes. A
cordon of camps was established along the Arkansas River, the South
Platte, the Republican, and the few other streams that contained water,
and when the thirsty animals came to drink they were attacked and driven
away, and with the most fiendish persistency kept from slaking their
thirst, so that they would again be compelled to seek the river and come
within range of the deadly breech-loaders. Colonel Dodge declares that
in places favorable to such warfare, as the south bank of the Platte, a
herd of buffalo has, by shooting at it by day and by lighting fires and
firing guns at night, been kept from water until it has been entirely
destroyed. In the autumn of 1873, when Mr. William Blackmore traveled
for some 30 or 40 miles along the north bank of the Arkansas River to
the east of Port Dodge, “there was a continuous line of putrescent
carcasses, so that the air was rendered pestilential and offensive to
the last degree. The hunters had formed a line of camps along the banks
of the river, and had shot down the buffalo, night and morning, as they
came to drink. In order to give an idea of the number of these
carcasses, it is only necessary to mention that I counted sixty-seven on
one spot not covering 4 acres.”</p>
<p>White hunters were not allowed to hunt in the Indian Territory, but the
southern boundary of the State of Kansas was picketed by them, and a
herd no sooner crossed the line going north than it was destroyed. Every
water-hole was guarded by a camp of hunters, and whenever a thirsty herd
approached, it was promptly met by rifle-bullets.</p>
<p>During this entire period the slaughter of buffaloes was universal. The
man who desired buffalo meat for food almost invariably killed five
times as many animals as he could utilize, and after cutting from each
victim its very choicest parts—the <i>tongue alone</i>, possibly, or perhaps
the hump and hind quarters, one or the other, or both—fully four-fifths
of the really edible portion of the carcass would be left to the wolves.
It was no uncommon thing for a man to bring in two barrels of salted
buffalo tongues, without another pound of meat or a solitary <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_497"></SPAN></span>robe. The
tongues were purchased at 25 cents each and sold in the markets farther
east at 50 cents. In those days of criminal wastefulness it was a very
common thing for buffaloes to be slaughtered for their tongues alone.
Mr. George Catlin<SPAN name="fnanchor_65_65" id="fnanchor_65_65"></SPAN><SPAN href="#footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</SPAN> relates that a few days previous to his arrival at
the mouth of the Tetón River (Dakota), in 1832, “an immense herd of
buffaloes had showed themselves on the opposite side of the river,”
whereupon a party of five or six hundred Sioux Indians on horseback
forded the river, attacked the herd, recrossed the river about sunset,
and came into the fort with fourteen hundred fresh buffalo tongues,
which were thrown down in a mass, and for which they required only a few
gallons of whisky, which was soon consumed in “a little harmless
carouse.” Mr. Catlin states that from all that he could learn not a skin
or a pound of meat, other than the tongues, was saved after this awful
slaughter.</p>
<p>Judging from all accounts, it is making a safe estimate to say that
probably no fewer than fifty thousand buffaloes have been killed for
their tongues alone, and the most of these are undoubtedly chargeable
against white men, who ought to have known better.</p>
<p>A great deal has been said about the slaughter of buffaloes by foreign
sportsmen, particularly Englishmen; but I must say that, from all that
can be ascertained on this point, this element of destruction has been
greatly exaggerated and overestimated. It is true that every English
sportsman who visited this country in the days of the buffalo always
resolved to have, and did have, “a buffalo hunt,” and usually under the
auspices of United States Army officers. Undoubtedly these parties did
kill hundreds of buffaloes, but it is very doubtful whether the
aggregate of the number slain by foreign sportsmen would run up higher
than ten thousand. Indeed, for myself, I am well convinced that there
are many old ex-still-hunters yet living, each of whom is accountable
for a greater number of victims than all buffaloes killed by foreign
sportsmen would make added together. The professional butchers were very
much given to crying out against “them English lords,” and holding up
their hands in holy horror at buffaloes killed by them for their heads,
instead of for hides to sell at a dollar apiece; but it is due the
American public to say that all this outcry was received at its true
value and deceived very few. By those in possession of the facts it was
recognized as “a blind,” to divert public opinion from the real
culprits.</p>
<p>Nevertheless it is very true that many men who were properly classed as
sportsmen, in contradistinction from the pot-hunters, did engage in
useless and inexcusable slaughter to an extent that was highly
reprehensible, to say the least. A sportsman is not supposed to kill
game wantonly, when it can be of no possible use to himself or any one
else, but a great many do it for all that. Indeed, the sportsman who <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_498"></SPAN></span>
kills sparingly and conscientiously is rather the exception than the
rule. Colonel Dodge thus refers to the work of some foreign sportsmen:</p>
<p>“In the fall of that year [1872] three English gentlemen went out with
me for a short hunt, and in their excitement bagged more buffalo than
would have supplied a brigade.” As a general thing, however, the
professional sportsmen who went out to have a buffalo hunt for the
excitement of the chase and the trophies it yielded, nearly always found
the bison so easy a victim, and one whose capture brought so little
glory to the hunter, that the chase was voted very disappointing, and
soon abandoned in favor of nobler game. In those days there was no more
to boast of in killing a buffalo than in the assassination of a Texas
steer.</p>
<p>It was, then, the hide-hunters, white and red, but especially white, who
wiped out the great southern herd in four short years. The prices
received for hides varied considerably, according to circumstances, but
for the green or undressed article it usually ranged from 50 cents for
the skins of calves to $1.25 for those of adult animals in good
condition. Such prices seem ridiculously small, but when it is
remembered that, when buffaloes were plentiful it was no uncommon thing
for a hunter to kill from forty to sixty head in a day, it will readily
be seen that the <i>chances</i> of making very handsome profits were
sufficient to tempt hunters to make extraordinary exertions. Moreover,
even when the buffaloes were nearly gone, the country was overrun with
men who had absolutely nothing else to look to as a means of livelihood,
and so, no matter whether the profits were great or small, so long as
enough buffaloes remained to make it possible to get a living by their
pursuit, they were hunted down with the most determined persistency and
pertinacity.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />