The Audubon Reader (84 page)

A large bison bull will generally weigh nearly two thousand pounds and a fat cow about twelve hundred. We weighed one of the bulls killed by our party and found it to reach 1,727 pounds, although it had already lost a good deal of blood. This was an old bull and was not fat; it had probably weighed more at some previous period. We were told that at this season a great many half-breed Indians were engaged in killing buffaloes and curing their flesh for winter use, on
Moose River about 200 miles north of us.

When these animals are shot at a distance of fifty or sixty yards they rarely if ever charge on the hunters. Mr. Culbertson told us he had killed as many as nine bulls from the same spot unseen by these terrible animals. There are times, however, when they have been known to gore both horse and rider after being severely wounded and have dropped down dead but a few minutes afterwards. There are indeed instances of bulls receiving many balls without being immediately killed, and we saw one which during one of our hunts was shot no less than twenty-four times before it dropped.

A bull that our party had wounded in the shoulder and which was thought too badly hurt to do much harm to anyone was found
rather dangerous when we approached him, as he would dart forward at the nearest of his foes, and but that his wound prevented him from wheeling and turning rapidly he would certainly have done some mischief. We fired at him from our six-barreled revolving pistol which, however, seemed to have little other effect than to render him more savage and furious. His appearance was well calculated to appall the bravest had we not felt assured that his strength was fast diminishing. We ourselves were a little too confident and narrowly escaped being overtaken by him through our imprudence. We placed ourselves directly in his front and as he advanced fired at his head and ran back, not supposing that he could overtake us; but he soon got within a few feet of our rear with head lowered and every preparation made for giving us a hoist; the next instant, however, we had jumped aside, and the animal was unable to alter his headlong course quick enough to avenge himself on us. Mr. Bell now put a ball directly through his lungs, and with a gush of blood from the mouth and nostrils, he fell upon his knees and gave up the ghost, falling (as usual) on the side, quite dead.

On another occasion when the same party were hunting near the end of the month of July, Mr. Squires wounded a bull twice, but no blood flowing from the mouth, it was concluded the wounds were only in the flesh and the animal was shot by Mr. Culbertson, Owen McKenzie and Mr. Squires again. This renewed fire only seemed to enrage him the more and he made a dash at the hunters so sudden and unexpected that Mr. Squires, attempting to escape, rode between the beast and a ravine which was near, when the bull turned upon him, his horse became frightened and leaped down the bank, the buffalo following him so closely that he was nearly unhorsed; he lost his presence of mind and dropped his gun; he, however, fortunately hung on by the mane and recovered his seat. The horse was the fleetest and saved his life. He told us subsequently that he had never been so terrified before. This bull was fired at several times after Squires’ adventure, and was found to have twelve balls lodged in him when he was killed. He was in very bad condition, and being in the rutting season we found the flesh too rank for our dainty palates and only took the tongue with us.

Soon afterwards we killed a cow in company with many bulls
and were at first afraid that they would charge upon us, which in similar cases they frequently do, but our party was too large and they did not venture near, although their angry bellowings and their unwillingness to leave the spot showed their rage at parting with her. As the sun was now sinking fast towards the horizon on the extended prairie we soon began to make our way towards the camping ground and passed within a moderate distance of a large herd of buffaloes which we did not stop to molest but increasing our speed reached our quarters for the night just as the shadows of the western plain indicated that we should not behold the orb of day until the morrow.

Our camp was near three conical hills called the Mamelles only about thirty miles from Fort Union, although we had traveled nearly fifty by the time we reached the spot. After unloading and unsaddling our tired beasts all hands assisted in getting wood and bringing water and we were soon quietly enjoying a cup of coffee. The time of refreshment to the weary hunter is always one of interest: the group of stalwart frames stretched in various attitudes around or near the blazing watch fires recalls to our minds the masterpieces of the great delineators of night scenes; and we have often at such times beheld living pictures far surpassing any of those contained in the galleries of Europe.

There were signs of
grizzly bears around us and during the night we heard a number of wolves howling among the bushes in the vicinity. The
serviceberry was abundant and we ate a good many of them; and after a hasty preparation in the morning started again after the buffaloes we had seen the previous evening. Having rode for some time, one of our party who was in advance as a scout made the customary signal from the top of a high hill that buffaloes were in sight; this is done by walking the hunter’s horse backward and forward several times. We hurried on and found our scout lying close to his horse’s neck as if asleep on the back of the animal. He pointed out where he had discovered the game, but they had gone out of sight and (as he said) were traveling fast, the herd being composed of both bulls and cows. The hunters mounted at once and galloped on in rapid pursuit, while we followed more leisurely over hills and plains and across ravines and broken ground at the risk of our necks. Now and then we could see the hunters
and occasionally the buffaloes, which had taken a direction towards the Fort. At last we reached an eminence from which we saw the hunters approaching the buffaloes in order to begin the chase in earnest. It seems that there is no etiquette among buffalo hunters, and this not being understood beforehand by our friend Harris, he was disappointed in his wish to kill a cow. The country was not as favorable to the hunters as it was to the flying herd. The females separated from the males and the latter turned in our direction and passed within a few hundred yards of us without our being able to fire at them. Indeed we willingly suffered them to pass unmolested, as they are always very dangerous when they have been parted from the cows. Only one female was killed on this occasion. On our way homeward we made towards the coupee, an opening in the hills where we expected to find water for our horses and mules, as our supply of Missouri water was only enough for ourselves.

The water found on these
prairies is generally unfit to drink (unless as a matter of necessity), and we most frequently carried eight or ten gallons from the river on our journey through the plains. We did not find water where we expected and were obliged to proceed about two miles to the eastward, where we luckily found a puddle sufficient for the wants of our horses and mules. There was not a bush in sight at this place and we collected buffalo dung to make a fire to cook with. In the winter this prairie fuel is often too wet to burn and the hunters and Indians have to eat their meat raw. It can however hardly be new to our readers to hear that they are often glad to get anything, either raw or cooked, when in this desolate region.

Young buffalo bulls are sometimes castrated by the Indians, as we were told, for the purpose of rendering them larger and fatter; and we were informed that when full grown they have been shot and found to be far superior to others in the herd in size as well as flavor. During severe winters the buffaloes become very poor, and when the snow has covered the ground for several months to the depth of two or three feet they are wretched objects to behold. They frequently in this emaciated state lose their hair and become covered with scabs; and the magpies alight on their backs and pick the sores. The poor animals in these dreadful seasons die in great numbers.

A singular trait in the buffalo when caught young was related to us as follows: When a calf is taken, if the person who captures it places one of his fingers in its mouth it will follow him afterwards, whether on foot or on horseback, for several miles.

We now give a few notes from our journal kept at Fort Union, which may interest our readers.

August 7th, 1843
. A buffalo cow was killed and brought into the fort and to the astonishment of all was found to be near her time of calving. This was an extraordinary circumstance at that season of the year.

August 8th
. The young buffaloes have commenced shedding their first (or red) coat of hair, which drops off in patches about the size of the palm of a man’s hand. The new hair is dark brownish-black. We caught one of these
calves with a lasso and had several men to hold him, but on approaching to pull off some of the old hair he kicked and bounced about in such a furious manner that we could not get near him. Mr. Culbertson had it however taken to the press post, and there it was drawn up and held so closely that we could handle it, and we tore off some pieces of its old pelage, which hung to the side with surprising tenacity.

The process of butchering or cutting up the carcass of the buffalo is generally performed in a slovenly and disgusting manner by the hunters and the choicest parts only are saved unless food is scarce. The liver and brains are eagerly sought for and the hump is excellent when broiled. The pieces of flesh from the sides are called by the French,
fillets
, or the
dépouille
; the marrow bones are sometimes cut out and the paunch is stripped of its covering of fat.

Some idea of the immense number of bisons to be still seen on the wild prairies may be formed from the following account, given to us by Mr. Kipp, one of the principals of the American Fur Company. While he was traveling from Travers’ Bay to the Mandan nation in the month of August in a cart heavily laden, he passed through herds of buffalo for six days in succession. At another time he saw the great prairie near Fort Clark on the Missouri River almost blackened by these animals, which covered the plain to the hills that bounded the view in all directions and probably extended farther.

When the bisons first see a person, whether white or red, they
trot or canter off forty or fifty yards and then stop suddenly, turn their heads and gaze on their foe for a few moments, then take a course and go off at full speed until out of sight and beyond the scent of man.

Although large, heavy and comparatively clumsy, the bison is at times brisk and frolicsome, and these huge animals often play and gambol about, kicking their heels in the air with surprising agility and throwing their hinder parts to the right and left alternately or from one side to the other, their heels the while flying about and their tails whisking in the air. They are very impatient in the fly and mosquito season and are often seen kicking and running against the wind to rid themselves of these tormentors.

The different Indian tribes hunt the buffalo in various ways: some pursue them on horseback and shoot them with arrows, which they point with old bits of iron or old knife blades. They are rarely expert in loading or reloading guns (even if they have them), but in the closely contested race between their horse and the animal they prefer the rifle to the bow and arrow. Other tribes follow them with patient perseverance on foot until they come within shooting distance or kill them by stratagem.

The Mandan
Indians chase the buffalo in parties of from twenty to fifty, and each man is provided with two horses, one of which he rides and the other, being trained expressly for the chase, is led to the place where the buffaloes are started. The hunters are armed with bows and arrows, their quivers containing from thirty to fifty arrows according to the wealth of the owner. When they come in sight of their game they quit the horses on which they have ridden, mount those led for them, ply the whip, soon gain the flank or even the center of the herd and shoot their arrows into the fattest, according to their fancy. When a buffalo has been shot, if the blood flows from the nose or mouth he is considered mortally wounded; if not, they shoot a second or a third arrow into the wounded animal.

The buffalo, when first started by the hunters, carries his tail close down between the legs; but when wounded he switches his tail about, especially if intending to fight his pursuer, and it behooves the hunter to watch these movements closely, as the horse will often shy, and without due care the rider may be thrown,
which when in a herd of buffalo is almost certain death. An arrow will kill a buffalo instantly if it takes effect in the heart, but if it does not reach the right spot a dozen arrows will not even arrest one in his course, and of the wounded, many run out of sight and are lost to the hunter.

At times the wounded bison turns so quickly and makes such a sudden rush upon the hunter that if the steed is not a good one and the rider perfectly cool, they are overtaken, the horse gored and knocked down and the hunter thrown off and either gored or trampled to death. But if the horse is a fleet one and the hunter expert, the bison is easily outrun and they escape. At best it may be said that this mode of buffalo hunting is dangerous sport, and one that requires both skill and nerve to come off successfully.

The Gros Ventres, Blackfeet and Assiniboine often take the buffalo in large pens, usually called parks, constructed in the following manner.

Two converging fences built of sticks, logs and brushwood are made leading to the mouth of a pen somewhat in the shape of a funnel. The pen itself is either square or round according to the nature of the ground where it is to be placed, at the narrow end of the funnel, which is always on the verge of a sudden break or precipice in the prairie ten or fifteen feet deep and is made as strong as possible. When this trap is completed, a young man very swift of foot starts at daylight provided with a bison’s hide and head to cover his body and head when he approaches the herd that is to be taken, on nearing which he bleats like a young buffalo calf and makes his way slowly towards the mouth of the converging fences leading to the pen. He repeats this cry at intervals, the buffaloes follow the decoy and a dozen or more of mounted Indians at some distance behind the herd gallop from one side to the other on both their flanks, urging them by this means to enter the funnel, which having done, a crowd of men, women and children come and assist in frightening them, and as soon as they have fairly entered the road to the pen beneath the precipice, the disguised Indian, still bleating occasionally, runs to the edge of the precipice, quickly descends and makes his escape, climbing over the barricade or fence of the pen beneath, while the herd follow on till the leader (probably an old bull) is forced to leap down into the pen and is
followed by the whole herd, which is thus ensnared and easily destroyed even by the women and children, as there is no means of escape for them.