THE WASTEFUL WEST 



Missouri, the "Big Muddy," they halted at the edge 

 of the buffalo country par excellence that land so 

 long known as the Great West in the minds of the 

 American people. Then ensued the day of the buf- 

 falo, a very big one in our national history. We 

 could not have built our railroads without the buf- 

 falo, nor have broken into the fastnesses of the 

 American desert with our farms, any more than 

 we could have subjugated our Indians while the 

 buffalo remained. 



The buffalo range of the trans-Missouri ran from 

 Mexico far north into the British provinces, and 

 from the Missouri River to the Rocky Mountains 

 indeed, even across the Rocky Mountains, at the 

 height of the trapping days, when the hunters 

 pressed them too far back into the hills to the west- 

 ward. They appeared around old Fort Hall, Idaho, 

 before Fremont's time. 



As to the total numbers of these great animals, 

 at the time of the first white occupation of the trans- 

 Missouri, there is no such thing as computation. 

 Certainly there were millions, but how many millions 

 one can only guess. The commerce which swept 

 them away left few records to determine its own 

 extent. The period from 1823 to 1883 covers sixty 

 years of slaughter, but the slaughter was not meas- 

 ured or recorded. The commerce of the Santa Fe 



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