ROPING BUFFALO CALVES. 



VIC. SMITH. 



In the spring of '79 I had a contract with 

 an Eastern firm to furnish them 50 buffalo 

 calves. I was to bring them to the banks 

 of the Yellowstone river and put them 

 aboard a steamer to be forwarded to their 

 destination. 



I secured the services of Frank Muzzy, 

 and with 5 teams, 4 good Buffalo horses, 

 and a cook we were soon on our way to the 

 Redwater, a stream 40 miles North of the 

 Yellowstone. At the breaks of the Red- 

 water we saw herds of buffalo up and down 

 the river as far as our eyes could reach. 



We pitched camp at the edge of an ash 

 grove near a fine. spring, 300 yards from the 

 stream. After supper I saddled a horse and 



FRANK MUZZV. 



approached a small bunch of buffalo about 

 a mile from camp. Selecting a fat yearling 

 heifer I downed her, and cutting off the 

 hump and choice pieces, loaded my horse 

 and returned to camp. That evening 5 

 Sioux Indians dropped in and materially 

 assisted us in eating the heifer. The next 

 morning we left the cook in camp to watch 

 the horses. Muzzy and I, with lariat and 

 straps, were soon among a bunch of about 

 20 cows and calves. We were mounted on 

 fleet buffalo runners, and it was short work 



to rope a calf apiece. Snubbing the ropes 

 we jumped from our horses, and after tying 

 the feet of the calves, left them lying on the 

 ground, and again sought the bunch. We 

 soon came up with them and caught 2 more, 

 but the mother of Muzzy's calf turned on 

 him and forced him several times to drop 

 his rope. When I had my baby buffalo tied 

 I turned my attention to the old cow and 

 soon had her scampering after the herd. We 

 caught 7 calves that forenoon; then took a 

 team, brought them to camp and staked 

 them out. They were old enough to eat 

 grass and live on that until we got back to 

 the Yellowstone, where we could give them 

 a mixture of milk, water, and bran. 



By noon of the fifth day I had within 2 of 

 the number of calves wanted. After dinner 

 we started for a herd about 4 miles away. 

 They were lying on the side of a hill, near 

 the summit. Muzzy remained in the valley 

 while I rode around the herd, which we 

 estimated at about 600 head. I found they 

 lay in a V shape on the face of the slope. 

 It had not rained for 3 weeks, and the 

 ground was dry as powder, yet the whole 

 country was cut up by small, deep wash- 

 outs. I rode at a fair pace in between the 

 wings of the herd. The old bulls were so 

 surprised at my impudence that they stood 

 amazed until I had passed them and was al- 

 most into the main bunch. Suddenly all 

 the animals started down the slope. The 

 wings of the herd closed about me, as the 

 dust was so thick the buffaloes did not no- 

 tice me. At full speed I went with them, 

 their shaggy bodies rubbing against my 

 legs. I could reach out and touch a buffalo 

 on either side. Though they were stum- 

 bling and falling in badger holes and wash- 

 outs all around me, yet my horse never 

 stumbled; had he fallen I would have been 

 trampled to death. It was the most exciting 

 race I ever took part in. I do not say I 

 was afraid, but I don't wish to repeat the 

 run. On reaching the valley, where the 

 grass was quite high and there was no dust, 

 the herd gradually drew away from me. Be- 

 fore we parted company I roped a calf, and 

 Muzzy caught another. Next day we pulled 

 for the Yellowstone river. 



My wagons carried racks similar to those 

 in which sheep are hauled, and gave ample 

 room for the calves to move about. Morn- 

 ing and evening we cut juicy blue grass and 

 boiled it in large camp ke fi1 es. When suf- 

 ficiently cooled we poureu the juice into the 

 troughs in the racks ; the calves would 

 eagerly drink it, and it apparently satisfied 

 their wants. Only one out of the 50 calves 

 died before we reached the ranch. 



365 



