The Audubon Reader (83 page)

From time to time small herds crossing rivers on the ice in the spring are set adrift in consequence of the sudden breaking of the ice after a rise in the river. They have been seen floating on such occasions in groups of three, four and sometimes eight or ten together, although on separate cakes of ice. A few stragglers have been known to reach the shore in an almost exhausted state, but the majority perish from cold and want of food rather than trust themselves boldly to the turbulent waters.

Buffalo calves are often drowned from being unable to ascend the steep banks of the rivers across which they have just swam, as the cows cannot help them, although they stand near the bank and will not leave them to their fate unless something alarms them.

On one occasion Mr. Kipp of the American Fur Company caught eleven calves, their dams all the time standing near the top of the bank. Frequently, however, the cows leave the young to their fate, when most of them perish. In connection with this part of the subject we may add that we were informed when on the Upper Missouri River that when the banks of that river were practicable for cows, and their calves could not follow them, they went down again after having gained the top and would remain by them until forced away by the cravings of hunger. When thus forced by the necessity of saving themselves to quit their young they seldom, if ever, returned to them.

When a large herd of these wild animals are crossing a river, the calves or yearlings manage to get on the backs of the cows and are thus conveyed safely over; but when the heavy animals, old and young, reach the shore, they sometimes find it muddy or even deeply miry; the strength of the old ones struggling in such cases to gain a solid footing enables them to work their way out of danger in a wonderfully short time. Old bulls, indeed, have been
known to extricate themselves when they had got into the mire so deep that but little more than their heads and backs could be seen. On one occasion we saw an unfortunate cow that had fallen into, or rather sank into a quicksand only seven or eight feet wide; she was quite dead and we walked on her still-fresh carcass safely across the ravine which had buried her in its treacherous and shifting sands.

The
gaits of the bison are walking, cantering and galloping, and when at full speed he can get over the ground nearly as fast as the best horses found in the Indian country. In lying down, this species bends the forelegs first, and its movements are almost exactly the same as those of the common cow. It also rises with the same kind of action as cattle.

When surprised in a recumbent posture by the sudden approach of a hunter who has succeeded in nearing it under the cover of a hill, clump of trees or other interposing object, the bison springs from the ground and is in full race almost as quick as thought, and is so very alert that one can scarcely perceive his manner of rising on such occasions.

The bulls never grow as fat as the cows, the latter having been occasionally killed with as much as two inches of fat on the boss or hump and along the back to the tail. The fat rarely exceeds half an inch on the sides or ribs but is thicker on the belly. The males have only one inch of fat and their flesh is never considered equal to that of the females in delicacy or flavor. In a herd of buffaloes many are poor, and even at the best season it is not likely that all will be found in good condition; and we have occasionally known a hunting party when buffalo was scarce compelled to feed on a straggling old bull as tough as leather. For ourselves this was rather uncomfortable, as we had unfortunately lost our molars long ago.

The bison is sometimes more abundant in particular districts one year than another and is probably influenced in its wanderings by the mildness or severity of the weather as well as by the choice it makes of the best pasturage and most quiet portions of the prairies. While we were at
Fort Union the hunters were during the month of June obliged to go out twenty-five or thirty miles to procure buffalo meat, although at other times the animal was quite abundant in sight of the fort. The tramping of a large herd in wet
weather cuts up the soft clayey soil of the river bottoms (we do not mean the bottom of rivers) into a complete mush. One day when on our journey up the Missouri River we landed on one of the narrow strips of land called bottoms which formed the margin of the river and was backed by hills of considerable height at a short distance. At this spot the tracks of these animals were literally innumerable; as far as the eye could reach in every direction the plain was covered with them; and in some places the soil had been so trampled as to resemble mud or clay when prepared for making bricks. The trees in the vicinity were rubbed by these buffaloes, and their hair and wool were hanging on the rough bark or lying at their roots. We collected some of this wool; we think it might be usefully worked up into coarse cloth and consider it worth attention. The roads that are made by these animals so much resemble the tracks left by a large wagon train that the inexperienced traveler may occasionally imagine himself following the course of an ordinary wagon road. These great tracks run for hundreds of miles across the prairies and are usually found to lead to some salt spring or some river or creek where the animals can allay their thirst.

The captain of the steamboat on which we ascended the Missouri informed us that on his last annual voyage up that river he had caught several buffaloes that were swimming the river. The boat was run close upon them, they were lassoed by a Spaniard who happened to be on board and then hoisted on the deck, where they [were] butchered … One day we saw several that had taken to the water and were coming towards our boat. We passed so near them that we fired at them but did not procure a single one. On another occasion one was killed from the shore and brought on board, when it was immediately divided among the men. We were greatly surprised to see some of the Indians that were going up with us ask for certain portions of the entrails, which they devoured with the greatest voracity. This gluttony excited our curiosity, and being always willing to ascertain the quality of any sort of meat, we tasted some of this sort of tripe and found it very good, although at first its appearance was rather revolting.

The Indians sometimes eat the carcasses of buffaloes that have been drowned, and some of those on board the
Omega
one day
asked the captain most earnestly to allow them to land and get at the bodies of three buffaloes which we passed that had lodged among the drift logs and were probably half putrid. In this extraordinary request some of the squaws joined. That when stimulated by the gnawings of hunger, Indians or even Whites should feed upon carrion is not to be wondered at, since we have many instances of cannibalism and other horrors when men are in a state of starvation, but these Indians were in the midst of plenty of wholesome food and we are inclined to think their hankering after this disgusting flesh must be attributed to a natural taste for it, probably acquired when young, as they are no doubt sometimes obliged in their wanderings over the prairies in winter to devour carrion and even bones and hides to preserve their lives. In the height of the
rutting season, the flesh of the buffalo bull is quite rank and unfit to be eaten except from necessity, and at this time the animal can be scented at a considerable distance.

When a herd of bisons is chased, although the bulls run with great swiftness their speed cannot be compared with that of the cows and yearling calves. These in a few moments leave the bulls behind them, but as they are greatly preferred by the hunter, he always (if well mounted) pursues them and allows the bulls to escape. During the winter of 1842 and ’43 as we were told, buffaloes were abundant around
Fort Union and during the night picked up straggling handfuls of hay that happened to be scattered about the place. An attempt was made to secure some of them alive by strewing hay as a bait from the interior of the old fort, which is about two hundred yards off, to some distance from the gateway, hoping the animals would feed along into the enclosure. They ate the hay to the very gate: but as the hogs and common cattle were regularly placed there for security during the night, the buffaloes would not enter, probably on account of the various odors issuing from the interior. As the buffaloes generally found some hay scattered around, they soon became accustomed to sleep in the vicinity of the fort, but went off every morning and disappeared behind the hills about a mile off.

One night they were fired at from a four-pounder loaded with musket balls. Three were killed and several were wounded, but this disaster did not prevent them from returning frequently to the fort
at night, and they were occasionally shot during the whole winter quite near the fort.

As various accounts of buffalo hunts have been already written, we will pass over our earliest adventures in that way, which occurred many years ago, and give you merely a sketch of the mode in which we killed them during our journey to the West in 1843.

One morning in July our party and several persons attached to Fort Union (for we were then located there) crossed the river, landed opposite the fort and passing through the rich alluvial belt of woodland which margins the river were early on our way to the adjacent prairie beyond the hills. Our equipment consisted of an old Jersey wagon to which we had two horses attached, tandem, driven by Mr. Culbertson, principal at the fort. This wagon carried Mr. Harris, Bell and ourselves and we were followed by two carts which contained the rest of the party, while behind came the running horses or hunters led carefully along. After crossing the lower prairie we ascended between the steep banks of the rugged ravines until we reached the high undulating plains above. On turning to take a retrospective view we beheld the fort and a considerable expanse of broken and prairie land behind us, and the course of the river was seen as it wound along for some distance. Resuming our advance we soon saw a number of antelopes, some of which had young ones with them. After traveling about ten miles farther we approached the Fox River, and at this point one of the party espied a small herd of bisons at a considerable distance off. Mr. Culbertson, after searching for them with the telescope, handed it to us and showed us where they were. They were all lying down and appeared perfectly unconscious of the existence of our party. Our vehicles and horses were now turned towards them and we traveled cautiously to within about a quarter of a mile of the herd, covered by a high ridge of land which concealed us from their view. The wind was favorable (blowing towards us) and now the hunters threw aside their coats, tied handkerchiefs around their heads, looked to their guns, mounted their steeds and moved slowly and cautiously towards the game. The rest of the party crawled carefully to the top of the ridge to see the chase. At the word of command given by Mr. Culbertson the hunters dashed forward after the bulls, which already began to run off in a line nearly parallel with
the ridge we were upon. The swift horses, urged on by their eager riders and their own impetuosity, soon began to overtake the affrighted animals; two of them separated from the others and were pursued by Mr. Culbertson and Mr. Bell; presently the former fired and we could see that he had wounded one of the bulls. It stopped after going a little way and stood with its head hanging down and its nose near the ground. The blood appeared to be pouring from its mouth and nostrils and its drooping tail showed the agony of the poor beast. Yet it stood firm and its sturdy legs upheld its ponderous body as if naught had happened. We hastened towards it but ere we approached the spot the wounded animal fell, rolled on its side and expired. It was quite dead when we reached it. In the meantime Mr. Bell had continued in hot haste after the other, and Mr. Harris and Mr. Squires had each selected and were following one of the main party. Mr. Bell shot and his ball took effect in the buttocks of the animal. At this moment Mr. Squires’ horse threw him over his head fully ten feet: he fell on his powder horn and was severely bruised; he called to some one to stop his horse and was soon on his legs, but felt sick for a few moments. Friend Harris, who was perfectly cool, neared his bull, shot it through the lungs and it fell dead on the spot. Mr. Bell was still in pursuit of his wounded animal and Mr. Harris and Mr. Squires joined and followed the fourth which, however, was soon out of sight. We saw Mr. Bell shoot two or three times and heard guns fired either by Mr. Harris or Mr. Squires, but the weather was so hot that, fearful of injuring their horses, they were obliged to allow the bull they pursued to escape. The one shot by Mr. Bell tumbled upon his knees, got up again and rushed on one of the hunters, who shot it once more, when it paused and almost immediately fell dead.

The flesh of the buffaloes thus killed was sent to the fort in the cart and we continued our route and passed the night on the prairie at a spot about halfway between the Yellowstone and the Missouri Rivers. Here just before sundown seven more bulls were discovered by the hunters, and Mr. Harris, Mr. Bell and Mr. Culbertson each killed one. In this part of the prairie we observed several burrows made by the swift
fox but could not see any of those animals although we watched for some time in hopes of doing so. They
probably scented our party and would not approach. The hunters on the prairies, either from hunger or because they have not a very delicate appetite, sometimes break in the skull of a buffalo and eat the brains raw. At sunrise we were all up and soon had our coffee, after which a mulatto man called LaFleur, an excellent hunter attached to the American Fur Company, accompanied Mr. Harris and Mr. Bell on a hunt for
antelopes, as we wanted no more buffaloes. After waiting the return of the party, who came back unsuccessful, we broke up our camp and turned our steps homeward.

The buffalo bulls which have been with their fair ones are at this season wretchedly poor, but some of them, which appear not to have much fondness for the latter, or may have been driven off by their rivals, are in pretty good condition. The prairies are in some places whitened with the skulls of the buffalo, dried and bleached by the summer’s sun and the frosts and snows of those severe latitudes in winter. Thousands are killed merely for their tongues, and their large carcasses remain to feed the wolves and other rapacious prowlers on the grassy wastes.