44 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



["Feb. 11, 1886. 



ON THE BUFFALO PLAINS. 



LOST I What heights of misery, what depths of despair, 

 what world3 o£ suffering can be crowded into that one 

 little word ; and yet we of the every day world never realize 

 what a stupendous word it is. To awaken to a full appre- 

 ciation of what the word does and can mean, one needs act- 

 ually to be lost just once — and one need not be very badly 

 lost either— to have the word indelibly impressed upon his 

 memory. The experience of the writer was not very tragic 

 in its ending, nor of such a character as to cause bim any 

 great amount of suffering; but it was sufficient to teach the 

 meaning of the word lost, and though more than ten years 

 have come and gone since the event, each trifling circum- 

 stance connected with that event is as well remembered as if 

 it occurred but yesterday. 



It was in the summer of 1874. With two professional 

 buffalo hunters I was traveling over the vast plains which 

 stretch in an unbroken expanse from the Arkansas River on 

 the south to the Eepublican on the north. This wide waste 

 of country was once known as a desert, and to the tourist of 

 this day it still presents some of the features as at that time; 

 but many changes have taken place, and the country is fast 

 becoming populated. Towus and villages are springing up, 

 thrilty farms and tine ranches can be seen on all sides, where 

 only ten years ago roamed the remnants of that mighty mul- 

 titude of bison or buffalo. 



No doubt there still exist some traces to prove to the 

 doubt ng ones that the buffalo did feed upon those pl?ins in 

 vast herds, though it may be bard to believe it. At the time 

 I write of, the herds had been seriously diminished and there 

 were but a few thousand left roaming over the country 

 which but a short time before had been black with them. 

 Great trails cut into the hard, dry, gravelly soil to the depth 

 of nearly two feet, made by bands on th< ir journeyings, 

 would prove much, and if that was not sufficient thousands 

 upon thousands of carcasses, which had not yet fully decom- 

 posed, bore silent witness that here had been the great feed 

 ing ground of the buffalo. On many little knolls one could 

 stand and within a radius of two or three hundred yards 

 count over one hundrtd bleaching skeletons, many wilh 

 some of the hair still upon the skull and legs, as the "skinner" 

 only toot the hide off as far as the knee joints and to the 

 ntcK. When one states that these carcasses could be seen 

 for hundreds of miles through Kansas, Colorado and Ne- 

 braska, then we begin to realize what immense herds of these 

 creatures had once inhabited this region. Tbe years from 

 1870 to 1874 probably saw the largest slaughter made in the 

 herds of buffalo, as the railroads bad pushed their way so 

 far west t hat they offered great facilities for the shipment of 

 hides, and the numbers shipped in 1872 over the Atchinson, 

 Topvka & Santa Fe and the Kansas Pacific railways seem 

 fabulous. Tbe market had become glutted, and evenin 1874 

 when the supply began to diminish, prices ruled low. Two 

 dollars were given for bull hides, one dollar and thirty cents 

 for cows. Ail hides weighing twenty Dine pounds or over 

 were classed as bulls; all under to thirteen pounds as cows; 

 hides of less weight were called calves and only twenty to 

 thirty cents were allowed for them. At this rate the business 

 did not pay and very few hunters were sticking to the busi- 

 ness. Tase the outfit I write of as an example. We weie 

 out nearly six weeks and secured about one hundred hides. 

 After paying for fetd for the team, "grub," ammunition, 

 etc., tbere was not much left for the men's time. The 

 majority of these skin hunters, however, were men who 

 would not work at any legitimate employment. Tbey were, 

 with few exceptions, a hard "tough"' lot. They would go 

 out on to the range, "kill a load," and take the hides to some 

 railroad point, sell them and waste the proceeds on whisky 

 and its general accompaniments. On the range they never 

 washed their clotht-s, nor bulbed their person, a "clean-up" 

 when tbey went "to town" being all that was considered 

 necessary. Their food consisted of meat, bread and coffee, 

 cooked in as few disbes as possible and with little attention 

 to cleanliness. A hunter and skinner, whoal-o drove the 

 team, comprised the usual outfit. Some time there would be 

 three men in the outfit; and when the buffalo were plenty, 

 still larger outfits would goon to the range; but in 1874 in 

 the section of country mentioned two and three were the 

 usual number. 1 hou^h tnese men were a bad lot taken all 

 in all, tbey were not mean, nor to be despised in their way. 

 Go on to the range as one of them and you would be treated 

 with as much courtesy and kindness as among those whose 

 ways of life were less rough; f>ut the would "have no use" 

 for any one who "put oa style" or acted as if he felt above 

 them. 



Ou May 24 we started from the Arkansas River and drove 

 north, crossing tbe Smoky Hill fork of tbe Republican at 

 Fort Wallace, Kansas. Not having found any buffalo, we 

 drove northwest from that point toward the headwaters of 

 the Republican. Tbe summer of 1874 was very hot, and it 

 was one of the great gras&bopper years. It was also a year 

 that a general outbreak among the Indians was expected, but 

 fortunately for us that did not occur. On the afternoon of 

 June 4, just as we were making up our minds that it was 

 time to camp, and all were on the lookout fur signs of water, 

 that great necessity and also great rarity on the plains, we 

 sa.v a wagon coming out of a little draw aDd rapidly ap- 

 proach us. We hailed, and presently two men drove up. 

 One of them informed us that he and his partn. r were lost. 

 The y bad left camp several days before, ano had been unable 

 to find the locality again. -As they had only started for a 

 day'H hunt, expecting to make camp at night again, tbey had 

 not taken any grub"with them, and all they had had was 

 "fresh hump," which, while it would keep them from starv- 

 ing, tbey did not relish as an all round diet; "and say, part 

 ner, if you have any bread or bacon we will buy it of you. 

 We baiu't got no money, but have powder and lead and some 

 hides." We speedily assured them they could keep their 

 powder and had, and as we had some bread left from dinner, 

 they were welcome to it. Each man was soon munching 

 bread and raw ham with much gusto, and as I sat and 

 watched the great slices of raw ham disappear, 1 little 

 thought that soon 1 would "give my old boots" for the same 

 chance. Our friends seemed to feel like new men as soon as 

 they had finished thii lunch, and concluded that tbey could 

 "find camp the next day, and if we would go with them we 

 would find it a good piace for permanent quarters, as there 

 was a spring hole near by, and the buffalo wire feeding near 

 there." Traveling on a lew miles further we found a hole 

 in the prairie, which contained the remnants of the last 

 heavy rain. The water was not very sweet; too many 

 buffalo had been ihrough it, but it did not do to be particu- 

 lar It was t bis water or a dr y camp, so we made the best 

 of the situation and camped. 



It was hardly daylight the next morning before we were 

 all stirriDg, and our simple breakfast of hot bread, bacon 



and coffee was dispatched, wagon loaded, horses saddled, 

 and outfit moving. I rode a black pony, a very good buf- 

 falo horse, as he had been on the range before, and had also 

 been used as a "cow pony." One of the hunters of our outfit 

 rode a small Indian pony, the other drove the wagon, while 

 the other two hunters rode in their wagon. I was prospect- 

 ing ahead of the outfit, and had just reached the top of a 

 little rise when I saw, several miles ahead, a herd of black 

 objects moving along quite rapidly, but at right angles to 

 our course. I did not require to be told what they were, 

 and putting spurs to Nig, was soon at the wagons reporting. 

 One of my comrades was for going for the herd, as it was 

 our first chance, and he did not want to let the opportunity 

 slip by. The rest proposed to find camp first. We compro 

 mised. J. and I were to go on after the herd, and A. and 

 the two hunters were to go on to camp. We were to take a 

 general direction nortb, as the herd was going that way, and 

 in returning strike southwest, which the hunters thought 

 would bring us near them. J. and I stopped only to fill our 

 belts with cartridges, but very foolishly did not take any 

 "grub." As the buffaloes had a good start of us and were 

 not feeding much, it was quite late in the forenoon before 

 we were near enough to "stake" the ponies and try for a 

 shot. We had a long walk after leaving the ponies, and the 

 sun came down on us in overpowering rays. The lay of the 

 land was unfavorable, and thougja, it now being in the heat 

 of the day, the herd was not moving or only doing so slowly, 

 we could not get nearer than at least six hundred yards. 

 There were several old bulls in the rear, evidently suspicious 

 of the crawling objects they saw in the distance. We were 

 now on our hands and knees, and I was beginning to think 

 that there was not as much romance in hunting buffalo as I 

 had read of, especially when I would plump my hand down 

 on a cactus or strike my knee on a small stone. J. thought 

 if we could get within one or two hundred yards, so as to 

 make a sure shot the first fire, we might get a "stand," and 

 then the herd would be our prey; but luck was against us. 

 We could not crawl as fast as tney would move, and we de- 

 termined to open on them at long range. Wiping the per- 

 spiration from out of our eyes, and lying still a moment to 

 get our breath, we each singled out a bull and the two 

 Sharps spoke. A good story demands that those two 

 bulls "quivered as the balls struck them with a sicken- 

 ing thud and then toppled over," but the truth demands 

 that they did not do anything of the kind; they just 

 jumped and "let out," the herd before them. We jumped 

 too, and loading and firing as we ran, kept after them until 

 they got under such good headway that I gave up. J. kept 

 ou as his wind was better, but he did not succeed in "down- 

 ing" any, though we could see several of those in the rear 

 running on three legs and gradually falling behind, I walked 

 back for the ponies and rode after J. He was disgusted 

 when I overtook him, and did not want to give up. We 

 held a council of war, and he thought I migbt take a circle, 

 ride hard and get ahead of the herd and turn them. J. rea- 

 soned that it was so hot that they would not run far. I 

 agreed and started. By this time the buffalo were out of 

 siaht, excepting a few stragglers which we could see in the 

 distance, and which, from the effect of the bright sun and 

 mirage, appeared to be traveling in the air and looked as 

 large as s good sized barn. This peculiar state of the atmos- 

 phere is often seen on the plains, and distant objects become 

 magnified and appear much larger and nearer than they are 

 in reality. I left J. and started, and rode as faBt as I dared 

 wheie there was constant danger from prairie dog and bad- 

 ger holes. I did not care to have a pony with a broken leg, 

 nor did I care for a tumble. After a half hour's fast ridiDg, 

 I saw the herd again moving very rapidly and off to my left. 

 I gradually drew in toward them, and if I had been so dis- 

 posed, migbt have picked off a straggler or two; but being 

 bent on turning the herd I kept on. I found that this would 

 be no easy matter, as the buffalo had kept well up with me; 

 and as I got nearer, they quickened their lumbering galop, 

 which appears very slow and clumsy, but which takes them 

 over the ground much more rapidly than one would suppose 

 who has nol tried to ride up to them. I soon saw that I 

 might as well give up the attempt to turn them, and glancing 

 at my watch found it was after three o'clock. I turned and 

 rode back in the direction I supposed J. would take and soon 

 saw him coming. We met and compared notes. He agreed 

 with me that we had better not attempt to follow the buffalo 

 but start for camp. Camp! Where was it? We had not 

 given it a thought, being engrossed with our exciting pur- 

 suit of the herd; but now we were cooler and had time to 

 think. We looked at one another, and both concluded that 

 perhaps we had done a very foolish thing. J. said he thought 

 that from the general direction we had traveled and from 

 what the lost hunter had said that he could so shape his 

 course as to strike somewhere near where camp ought to be; 

 but "there's the rub," we did not really know where camp 

 was. 



Mounting our tired ponies, we rode as rapidly as possible 

 in the supposed correct direction. The sun was sinking 

 lower and lower and soon put his great fiery head beneath 

 the horizon. The evening shades were just appearing when 

 J., who was a little in advance, stopped and waited for me 

 to approach. "Look there," said he, "there goes our supper 

 and what is as essential, our bed." I glanced in the direction 

 he pointed and there I saw two buffaloes moving along 

 slowly. Thcv were about a thousand yards away, and it 

 behooved us to hurry and make some efiert to get nearer, or 

 it would soon be too dark to shoot. A low place in the 

 prairie favored us and we ran our ponies for several hundred 

 yards. J. then sprang from his pony and . started to sneak 

 uearer. The old bulls, as we could now see they were, kept 

 on slowly. I picketed the ponies and crept up on to a little 

 rise to watch J. From tne lay of the lariti it was impossible 

 for him to get nearer that six hundred yards, but with day- 

 light to aid him he would have been reasonably sure of a hit 

 as he was a splendid shot. I lav waiting anxiously the event, 

 for much was at stake. If he got a buffalo we would not go 

 supperless to bed, and then the hide would serve as some 

 protection as a covering. Neither of us had coat or saddle 

 blanket; each was clothed only in pants and shirt. If an 

 earnest desire for a person's success would be of any avail I 

 felt J. would succeed. It seemed to my overwrought senses 

 a tremendously long time before he fired. I could not see 

 him but could see the bulls as they kept moving and knew 

 he must soon shoot. Presently a sharp report rang out m the 

 still evening air. Then I heard the bullet sing as it speeded 

 on its way, and then, oh j"y! came the spat of the ball as it 

 struck one of the bulls. Again and again the old Sharps' 

 spoke out, but, alas, either tbe balls were placed too far 

 back or did not strike any vital point. They only served to 

 start the buffalos into a run, and there went one supper, 

 "over the hills and far away." "No use, my boy," said J. 

 as he walked back. "We won't feast on that old bulls 



hump to-night." I heaved a deep sigh and whispered, "The 

 saddest words, etc." As our ponies were pretty well fagged 

 out, as we were ourselves, it was concluded to give them a 

 rest and let them pick a little buffalo grass; so we took off 

 the saddles and stretched ourselves on the ground. I was 

 very tired and very hungry. I had only been out on the 

 plains about ten days, and had come directly out of an office 

 where the most laborious duty I had was that of wielding a 

 pen. Not being a very strong man physically, the hard 

 day's ride and excitement had made an impression on me; 

 and an empty stomach did not help matters. 



As soon as the stars came out and our ponies had eaten an 

 hour or more, J. proposed we saddle up and proceed. I 

 acquiesced, as I left the affair wholly in his hands. We 

 were soon in the saddle again, and J., leading the way, set 

 off over the prairie. Very little conversation was indulged 

 in, and for my part, 1 was busy with my thoughts. I did 

 not fear that ultimately we would not find our way out of it, 

 but the present was sufficient. After riding some time in 

 silence J. stopped. "Don't you hear a frog?" said he. I 

 listened, and surely heard the peeping of frogs. "There 

 must be a slough over there; let's investigate. I would like 

 a drink." We soon found the low place where the frogs 

 were singing, and the ponies were as glad to get some water 

 as we. The water, though a little brackish, tasted very 

 good. I struck a match and found it was 10 o'clock. 

 "Well," said J., "shall we camp or move on?" "Let's 

 camp, I am about used up, and we might as well wait for 

 day tight. " So we hunted a soft place near by in a sand 

 draw, and, after picketing our ponies, lay down back to 

 back for the sake of a little warmth. 



Though the days are extremely hot on the plains, the 

 nights are invariably cool This one proved cold, and as a 

 heavy dew fell — rather a strange occurrence for the plains — 

 it was all the colder. We awoke about 2 o'clock nearly 

 frozen, our teeth chattering and bones aching. "I can't 

 stand this," said J., as he got up and waiked about to keep 

 warm. "Let's try and find some chips and weeds," said I, 

 "and start a fire." At the risk of stiiring up some wander- 

 ing "rattler," we managed to find a few chips* and some 

 weads. With these we started an apology for a fire and 

 managed to worry through two hours more of misery. As 

 soon as the first streaks of light showed in the east we sad- 

 dled the ponies, and, as it was soon light, set out on our 

 weary way. J. seemed to have an iustinct which told him 

 the right course to take, and 1 followed silently. Any one 

 could have bought my share of that "buffalo hunt" cheaply 

 that morning, for if I felt miserably the night before, I could 

 discount it in the morning. Oh, how I longed for something 

 to fill my empty and aching stomach. Every jolt in the 

 saddle seemed as if it would break me in two. I bore up as 

 bravely as I could, for J. seemed not to mind it; but I 

 thought to myself, "I don't want any more romance on my 

 plate"" I prefer something of a nature more satisfying to 

 the inner man; not quite so ethereal, as it were. 



We jogged on and scanned carefully the prairie in all 

 directions. No sign of camp. At last when the morning 

 was well spent and the hot sun was nearly over our heads 

 again, J., who was slightly in advance, jumped from his 

 pony and examined the ground very carefully. "There, I 

 knew it," he said. "Know wbat?" I asked. "Knew I 

 would strike their trail." And sure enough, there on the 

 hard-baked soil was faintly to be seen the track of a wagon. 

 Off 1 jumped, too, and getting on our hands and knees we 

 soon determined which way the horses were headed by the 

 imprint of their hoofs. That question solved, all we had to 

 do was to follow the trail and we would strike the boys. 

 With light hearts we mounted our ponies and urged them 

 on. It was long after noon when I discovered two dark ob- 

 jects far off. J. said they were men, and presently we saw 

 a smoke and heard a distant shot. "It is the hoys," he cried, 

 "bang away in reply." I fired a Bhot iu the air which was 

 answered by ano' her. All doubt was now removed, and I 

 "braced up" wonderfully at the knowledge that we would 

 soon be with our fiiends. 



Out ponies loped gaily along, but suddenly turned and 

 bolted as a large dark object jumped up and bounded off 

 from nearly beneath their feet. We were just going over a 

 little rise, and in a small draw on the other side a buffalo 

 cow had been lying. The ponies saw her before we did, and 

 as we were riding with loose rein, after tbe custom with 

 those western ponies, they turned before we could stop them. 

 We soon brought them round, and saw the cow disappear 

 over the next rise. 1 forgot how tired I was and how weak, 

 but only thought of the opportunity to kiU a buffalo. So 

 handing J. my rifle, I gave the pony the spur anrl flew after 

 the buffalo. She did not run far, being evidently suffering 

 from a previous wound, which accounted for her being 

 alone and lying down. My pony gained fast, and 

 1 was sexin near enough to fire. My Colts .44 rang out, but 

 the ball sped wide and only hit tbe buffalo iu the body, but 

 she stopped aud turned to face me. A very ugly looking 

 thing she was with her great "mop" hanging down over 

 those blood-red eyes. She shook her head as if to say, 

 "Beware. I can't run, but. I will fight!" I rode up within 

 ten yards and sent a ball into her foreshoulder, then another 

 and another. She quivered as the lead struck her, but did 

 not fall. The warm bright blooel came from the bullet holes 

 and the white froth which flowed from the lips was soon 

 flecked with red, showing she was done for, but she was 

 "game." I had carelessly let my reins fall on my pony's neck 

 and was endeavoring to turn the cylinder of my revolver, 

 which had jammed in some way, and the pony, not seeming 

 to care any more for the buffalo than if it was an ordinary 

 cow, bad begun to pick at the buffalo grass. I heard a slight 

 noise and raising my eyes saw the cow making a desperate 

 lunge ft my horse's side. Tbe spurs struck him before the 

 buffalo did and he leaped out of the way. Quickly turning 

 I rode round and with one more shot ended the poor creat- 

 ure's life. She fell to her knees, still facing me, and with a 

 look of the deepest ferocity and rage made one despairing 

 effort to rise again and then slowly sank to the ground. 1 

 had beard of wounded buffaloes being and looking ugly. 

 Now I knew it. J. came up, and we took off the hide. 



We were joined by our friends and tbey piloted us to 

 camp, where we were soon hard at work filling tne "aching 

 void" and recounting our experience. Then congratulntions 

 at the happy termination of our adventure were in order. 

 As I look back through the Jong years that have passed since 

 1 was "lost" and killed my first buffalo on the plains, I can 

 again affirm what I expressed at that time and which is now 

 snng in one of the topical songs of the day: "I hope it won't 

 happen again." Pkaikie Dog. 



Lietroit, Michigan. 



♦ Buffalo "chips" were the only fuel to be found on the plains, ex- 

 cepting near the water courses. 



