In former Letters I have given some account of the _Bisons_, or (as
they are more familiarly denominated in this country) _Buffaloes_,
which inhabit these regions in numerous herds; and of which I must say
yet a little more.
These noble animals of the ox species, and which have been so well
described in our books on Natural History, are a subject of curious
interest and great importance in this vast wilderness; rendered
peculiarly so at this time, like the history of the poor savage; and
from the same consideration, that they are rapidly wasting away at the
approach of civilized man—and like him and his character, in a very few
years, to live only in books or on canvass.
The word buffalo is undoubtedly most incorrectly applied to these
animals, and I can scarcely tell why they have been so called; for
they bear just about as much resemblance to the Eastern buffalo, as
they do to a zebra or to a common ox. How nearly they may approach to
the bison of Europe, which I never have had an opportunity to see, and
which, I am inclined to think, is now nearly extinct, I am unable to
say; yet if I were to judge from the numerous engravings I have seen
of those animals, and descriptions I have read of them, I should be
inclined to think, there was yet a wide difference between the bison
of the American prairies, and those in the North of Europe and Asia.
The American bison, or (as I shall hereafter call it) buffalo, is
the largest of the ruminating animals that is now living in America;
and seems to have been spread over the plains of this vast country,
by the Great Spirit, for the use and subsistence of the red men, who
live almost exclusively on their flesh, and clothe themselves with
their skins. The reader, by referring back to +plates+ 7 and 8, in the
beginning of this Work, will see faithful traces of the male and female
of this huge animal, in their proud and free state of nature, grazing
on the plains of the country to which they appropriately belong. Their
colour is a dark brown, but changing very much as the season varies
from warm to cold; their hair or fur, from its great length in the
winter and spring, and exposure to the weather, turning quite light,
and almost to a jet black, when the winter coat is shed off, and a new
growth is shooting out.
The buffalo bull often grows to the enormous weight of 2000 pounds, and
shakes a long and shaggy black mane, that falls in great profusion and
_confusion_, over his head and shoulders; and oftentimes falling down
quite to the ground. The horns are short, but very large, and have but
one turn, _i. e._ they are a simple arch, without the least approach to
a spiral form, like those of the common ox, or of the goat species.
The female is much smaller than the male, and always distinguishable
by the peculiar shape of the horns, which are much smaller and more
crooked, turning their points more in towards the centre of the
forehead.
One of the most remarkable characteristics of the buffalo, is the
peculiar formation and expression of the eye, the ball of which is
very large and white, and the iris jet black. The lids of the eye seem
always to be strained quite open, and the ball rolling forward and
down; so that a considerable part of the iris is hidden behind the
lower lid, while the pure white of the eyeball glares out over it in an
arch, in the shape of a moon at the end of its first quarter.
These animals are, truly speaking, gregarious, but not migratory—they
graze in immense and almost incredible numbers at times, and roam about
and over vast tracts of country, from East to West, and from West to
East, as often as from North to South; which has often been supposed
they naturally and habitually did to accommodate themselves to the
temperature of the climate in the different latitudes. The limits
within which they are found in America, are from the 30th to the 55th
degrees of North latitude; and their extent from East to West, which is
from the border of our extreme Western frontier limits, to the Western
verge of the Rocky Mountains, is defined by quite different causes,
than those which the degrees of temperature have prescribed to them
on the North and the South. Within these 25 degrees of latitude, the
buffaloes seem to flourish, and get their living without the necessity
of evading the rigour of the climate, for which Nature seems most
wisely to have prepared them by the greater or less profusion of fur,
with which she has clothed them.
It is very evident that, as high North as Lake Winnepeg, seven or eight
hundred miles North of this, the buffalo subsists itself through the
severest winters; getting its food chiefly by browsing amongst the
timber, and by pawing through the snow, for a bite at the grass, which
in those regions is frozen up very suddenly in the beginning of the
winter, with all its juices in it, and consequently furnishes very
nutritious and efficient food; and often, if not generally, supporting
the animal in better flesh during these difficult seasons of their
lives, than they are found to be in, in the 30th degree of latitude,
upon the borders of Mexico, where the severity of winter is not known,
but during a long and tedious autumn, the herbage, under the influence
of a burning sun, is gradually dried away to a mere husk, and its
nutriment gone, leaving these poor creatures, even in the dead of
winter, to bask in the warmth of a genial sun, without the benefit of a
green or juicy thing to bite at.
The place from which I am now writing, may be said to be the very heart
or nucleus of the buffalo country, about equi-distant between the two
extremes; and of course, the most congenial temperature for them to
flourish in. The finest animals that graze on the prairies are to be
found in this latitude; and I am sure I never could send from a better
source, some further account of the death and destruction that is dealt
among these noble animals, and hurrying on their final extinction.
The Sioux are a bold and desperate set of horsemen, and great hunters;
and in the heart of their country is one of the most extensive
assortments of goods, of whiskey, and other saleable commodities, as
well as a party of the most indefatigable men, who are constantly
calling for every robe that can be stripped from these animals’ backs.
These are the causes which lead so directly to their rapid destruction;
and which open to the view of the traveller so freshly, so vividly, and
so familiarly, the scenes of archery—of lancing, and of death-dealing,
that belong peculiarly to this wild and shorn country.
The almost countless herds of these animals that are sometimes met with
on these prairies, have been often spoken of by other writers, and may
yet be seen by any traveller who will take the pains to visit these
regions. The “_running season_,” which is in August and September,
is the time when they congregate into such masses in some places, as
literally to blacken the prairies for miles together. It is no uncommon
thing at this season, at these gatherings, to see several thousands
in a mass, eddying and wheeling about under a cloud of dust, which
is raised by the bulls as they are pawing in the dirt, or engaged in
desperate combats, as they constantly are, plunging and butting at each
other in the most furious manner (+plate+ 105). In these scenes, the
males are continually following the females, and the whole mass are in
constant motion; and all bellowing (or “roaring”) in deep and hollow
sounds; which, mingled altogether, appear, at the distance of a mile or
two, like the sound of distant thunder.
During the season whilst they are congregated together in these dense
and confused masses, the remainder of the country around for many
miles, becomes entirely vacated; and the traveller may spend many a
toilsome day, and many a hungry night, without being cheered by the
sight of one; where, if he retraces his steps a few weeks after, he
will find them dispersed, and grazing quietly in little families and
flocks, and equally stocking the whole country. Of these quiet little
herds, a fair representation will be seen in +plate+ 106, where some
are grazing, others at play, or lying down, and others indulging in
their “wallows.” “A bull in his wallow” is a frequent saying in this
country; and has a very significant meaning with those who have ever
seen a buffalo bull performing _ablution_, or rather endeavouring to
cool his heated sides, by tumbling about in a mud puddle.
In the heat of summer, these huge animals, which, no doubt, suffer very
much with the great profusion of their long and shaggy hair or fur,
often graze on the low grounds in the prairies, where there is a little
stagnant water lying amongst the grass, and the ground underneath
being saturated with it, is soft, into which the enormous bull, lowered
down upon one knee, will plunge his horns, and at last his head,
driving up the earth, and soon making an excavation in the ground, into
which the water filters from amongst the grass, forming for him in a
few moments, a cool and comfortable bath, into which he plunges like a
hog in his mire.
In this _delectable_ laver, he throws himself flat upon his side, and
forcing himself violently around, with his horns and his huge hump
on his shoulders presented to the sides, he ploughs up the ground by
his rotary motion, sinking himself deeper and deeper in the ground,
continually enlarging his pool, in which he at length becomes nearly
immersed; and the water and mud about him mixed into a complete mortar,
which changes his colour, and drips in streams from every part of him
as he rises up upon his feet, a hideous monster of mud and ugliness,
too frightful and too eccentric to be described!
It is generally the leader of the herd that takes upon him to make
this excavation; and if not (but another one opens the ground), the
leader (who is conqueror) marches forward, and driving the other from
it plunges himself into it; and having cooled his sides, and changed
his colour to a walking mass of mud and mortar; he stands in the pool
until inclination induces him to step out, and give place to the next
in command, who stands ready; and another, and another, who advance
forward in their turns, to enjoy the luxury of the wallow; until the
whole band (sometimes an hundred or more) will pass through it in turn;
each one throwing his body around in a similar manner; and each one
adding a little to the dimensions of the pool, while he carries away in
his hair an equal share of the clay, which dries to a grey or whitish
colour, and gradually falls off. By this operation, which is done,
perhaps, in the space of half an hour, a circular excavation of fifteen
or twenty feet in diameter, and two feet in depth, is completed, and
left for the water to run into, which soon fills it to the level of the
ground.
To these sinks, the waters lying on the surface of the prairies, are
continually draining, and in them lodging their vegetable deposits;
which, after a lapse of years, fill them up to the surface with a rich
soil, which throws up an unusual growth of grass and herbage; forming
conspicuous circles which arrest the eye of the traveller, and are
calculated to excite his surprise for ages to come.
Many travellers who have penetrated not quite far enough into the
Western country to see the habits of these animals, and the manner
in which these _mysterious_ circles are made; but who have seen the
prairies strewed with their bleached bones, and have beheld these
strange circles, which often occur in groups, and of different
sizes—have come home with beautiful and ingenious theories (which _must
needs be made_), for the origin of these singular and unaccountable
appearances, which, for want of a rational theory, have generally
been attributed to _fairy feet_, and gained the appellation of “_fairy
circles_.”
[Illustration: 105]
[Illustration: 106]
Many travellers, again, have supposed that these rings were produced
by the dances of the Indians, which are oftentimes (and in fact
most generally) performed in a circle; yet a moment’s consideration
disproves such a probability, inasmuch as the Indians always select the
ground for their dancing near the sites of their villages, and that
always on a dry and hard foundation; when these “fairy circles” are
uniformly found to be on low and wet ground.
As my visit to these parts of the “_Great Far West_” has brought me
into the heart of the buffalo country, where I have had abundant
opportunities of seeing this noble animal in all its phases—its habits
of life, and every mode of its death; I shall take the liberty of being
yet a little more particular, and of rendering some further accounts of
scenes which I have witnessed in following out my sporting propensities
in these singular regions.
The chief hunting amusement of the Indians in these parts consists in
the chase of the buffalo, which is almost invariably done on horseback,
with bow and lance. In this exercise, which is highly prized by them,
as one of their most valued amusements, as well as for the principal
mode of procuring meat for their subsistence, they become exceedingly
expert; and are able to slay these huge animals with apparent ease.
The Indians in these parts are all mounted on small, but serviceable
horses, which are caught by them on the prairies, where they are often
running wild in numerous bands. The Indian, then, mounted on his little
wild horse, which has been through some years of training, dashes off
at full speed amongst the herds of buffaloes, elks, or even antelopes,
and deals his deadly arrows to their hearts from his horse’s back. The
horse is the fleetest animal of the prairie, and easily brings his
rider alongside of his game, which falls a certain prey to his deadly
shafts, at the distance of a few paces.
In the chase of the buffalo, or other animal, the Indian generally
“strips” himself and his horse, by throwing off his shield and quiver,
and every part of his dress, which might be an encumbrance to him in
running; grasping his bow in his left hand, with five or six arrows
drawn from his quiver, and ready for instant use. In his right hand (or
attached to the wrist) is a heavy whip, which he uses without mercy,
and forces his horse alongside of his game at the swiftest speed.
These horses are so trained, that the Indian has little use for the
rein, which hangs on the neck, whilst the horse approaches the animal
on the right side (+plate+ 107), giving his rider the chance to throw
his arrow to the left; which he does at the instant when the horse
is passing—bringing him opposite to the heart, which receives the
deadly weapon “to the feather.” When pursuing a large herd, the Indian
generally rides close in the rear, until he selects the animal he
wishes to kill, which he separates from the throng as soon as he can,
by dashing his horse between it and the herd, and forcing it off by
itself; where he can approach it without the danger of being trampled
to death, to which he is often liable by too closely escorting the
multitude.
In +plate+ 107, I have fairly represented the mode of _approaching_,
at the instant the arrow is to be thrown; and the striking disparity
between the size of a huge bull of 2000 pounds weight, and the Indian
horse, which, it will be borne in mind, is but a pony.
No bridle whatever is used in this country by the Indians, as they have
no knowledge of a bit. A short halter, however, which answers in place
of a bridle, is in general use; of which they usually form a noose
around the under jaw of the horse, by which they get great power over
the animal; and which they use generally to _stop_ rather than _guide_
the horse. This halter is called by the French Traders in the country,
_l’arrêt_, the stop, and has great power in arresting the speed of a
horse; though it is extremely dangerous to use too freely as a guide,
interfering too much with the freedom of his limbs, for the certainty
of his feet and security of his rider.
When the Indian then has directed the course of his steed to the animal
which he has selected, the training of the horse is such, that it knows
the object of its rider’s selection, and exerts every muscle to give it
close company; while the halter lies loose and untouched upon its neck,
and the rider leans quite forward, and off from the side of his horse,
with his bow drawn, and ready for the deadly shot, which is given
at the instant he is opposite to the animal’s body. The horse being
instinctively afraid of the animal (though he generally brings his
rider within the reach of the end of his bow), keeps his eye strained
upon the furious enemy he is so closely encountering; and the moment
he has approached to the nearest distance required, and has passed the
animal, whether the shot is given or not, he gradually sheers off, to
prevent coming on to the horns of the infuriated beast, which often
are instantly turned, and presented for the fatal reception of its
too familiar attendant. These frightful collisions often take place,
notwithstanding the sagacity of the horse, and the caution of its
rider; for in these extraordinary (and inexpressible) exhilarations of
chase, which seem to drown the prudence alike, of instinct and reason,
both horse and rider often seem rushing on to destruction, as if it
were mere pastime and amusement.[13]
I have always counted myself a prudent man, yet I have often _waked_
(as it were) out of the delirium of the chase (into which I had fallen,
as into an agitated sleep, and through which I had passed as through
a delightful dream), where to have died would have been but to have
remained, riding on, without a struggle or a pang.
In some of these, too, I have arisen from the prairie, covered with
dirt and blood, having severed company with gun and horse, the one
lying some twenty or thirty feet from me with a broken stalk, and the
other coolly brousing on the grass at half a mile distance, without
man, and without other beast remaining in sight.
[Illustration: 107]
[Illustration: 108]
For the novice in these scenes there is much danger of his limbs and
his life, and he finds it a hard and a desperate struggle that brings
him in at _the death_ of these huge monsters, except where it has been
produced by hands that have acquired more sleight and tact than his own.
With the Indian, who has made this the every day sport and amusement of
his life, there is less difficulty and less danger; he rides without
“losing his breath,” and his unagitated hand deals _certainty_ in its
deadly blows.
In +plate+ 108, I have represented a party of Indians in chase of a
herd some of whom are pursuing with lance and others with bows and
arrows. The group in the foreground shews the attitude at the instant
after the arrow has been thrown and driven to the heart; the Indian at
full speed, and the _laso_ dragging behind his horse’s heels. The laso
is a long thong of rawhide, of ten or fifteen yards in length, made of
several braids or twists, and used chiefly to catch the wild horse,
which is done by throwing over their necks a noose which is made at the
end of the _laso_, with which they are “choked down.” In running the
buffaloes, or in time of war, the _laso_ drags on the ground at the
horse’s feet, and sometimes several rods behind, so that if a man is
dismounted, which is often the case, by the tripping or stumbling of
the horse, he has the power of grasping to the laso, and by stubbornly
holding on to it, of stopping and securing his horse, on whose back he
is instantly replaced, and continuing on in the chase.
In the dead of the winters, which are very long and severely cold in
this country, where horses cannot be brought into the chase with any
avail, the Indian runs upon the surface of the snow by the aid of his
snow shoes, which buoy him up, while the great weight of the buffaloes,
sinks them down to the middle of their sides, and completely stopping
their progress, ensures them certain and easy victims to the bow or
lance of their pursuers, as in +plate+ 109. The snow in these regions
often lies during the winter, to the depth of three and four feet,
being blown away from the tops and sides of the hills in many places,
which are left bare for the buffaloes to graze upon, whilst it is
drifted in the hollows and ravines to a very great depth, and rendered
almost entirely impassable to these huge animals, which, when closely
pursued by their enemies, endeavour to plunge through it, but are soon
wedged in and almost unable to move, where they fall an easy prey to
the Indian, who runs up lightly upon his snow shoes and drives his
lance to their hearts. The skins are then stripped off, to be sold to
the Fur Traders, and the carcasses left to be devoured by the wolves.
This is the season in which the greatest number of these animals are
destroyed for their robes—they are most easily killed at this time, and
their hair or fur being longer and more abundant, gives greater value
to the robe.
The Indians generally kill and dry meat enough in the fall, when it
is fat and juicy, to last them through the winter; so that they have
little other object for this unlimited slaughter, amid the drifts
of snow, than that of procuring their robes for traffic with their
Traders. The snow shoes are made in a great many forms, of two and
three feet in length, and one foot or more in width, of a hoop or
hoops bent around for the frame, with a netting or web woven across
with strings of rawhide, on which the feet rest, and to which they are
fastened with straps somewhat like a skate.[14] With these the Indian
will glide over the snow with astonishing quickness, without sinking
down, or scarcely leaving his track where he has gone.
The poor buffaloes have their enemy _man_, besetting and beseiging them
at all times of the year, and in all the modes that man in his superior
wisdom has been able to devise for their destruction. They struggle in
vain to evade his deadly shafts, when he dashes amongst them over the
plains on his wild horse—they plunge into the snow-drifts where they
yield themselves an easy prey to their destroyers, and they also stand
unwittingly and behold him, unsuspected under the skin of a white wolf,
insinuating himself and his fatal weapons into close company, when they
are peaceably grazing on the level prairies, and shot down before they
are aware of their danger (+plate+ 110).
There are several varieties of the wolf species in this country, the
most formidable and most numerous of which are white, often sneaking
about in gangs or families of fifty or sixty in numbers, appearing in
distance, on the green prairies like nothing but a flock of sheep.
Many of these animals grow to a very great size, being I should think,
quite a match for the largest Newfoundland dog. At present, whilst the
buffaloes are so abundant, and these ferocious animals are glutted
with the buffalo’s flesh, they are harmless, and everywhere sneak away
from man’s presence; which I scarcely think will be the case after
the buffaloes are all gone, and they are left, as they must be, with
scarcely anything to eat. They always are seen following about in the
vicinity of herds of buffaloes and stand ready to pick the bones of
those that the hunters leave on the ground, or to overtake and devour
those that are wounded, which fall an easy prey to them. While the herd
of buffaloes are together, they seem to have little dread of the wolf,
and allow them to come in close company with them. The Indian then has
taken advantage of this fact, and often places himself under the skin
of this animal, and crawls for half a mile or more on his hands and
knees, until he approaches within a few rods of the unsuspecting group,
and easily shoots down the fattest of the throng.
The buffalo is a very timid animal, and shuns the vicinity of man with
the keenest sagacity; yet, when overtaken, and harassed or wounded,
turns upon its assailants with the utmost fury, who have only to seek
safety in flight. In their desperate resistance the finest horses
are often destroyed; but the Indian, with his superior sagacity and
dexterity, generally finds some effective mode of escape, as in +plate+
111.
[Illustration: 109]
[Illustration: 110]
During the season of the year whilst the calves are young, the male
seems to stroll about by the side of the dam, as if for the purpose
of protecting the young, at which time it is exceedingly hazardous to
attack them, as they are sure to turn upon their pursuers, who have
often to fly to each others assistance (+plate+ 112). The buffalo calf,
during the first six months is red, and has so much the appearance of
a red calf in cultivated fields, that it could easily be mingled and
mistaken amongst them. In the fall, when it changes its hair it takes a
brown coat for the winter, which it always retains. In pursuing a large
herd of buffaloes at the season when their calves are but a few weeks
old, I have often been exceedingly amused with the curious manœuvres of
these shy little things. Amidst the thundering confusion of a throng of
several hundreds or several thousands of these animals, there will be
many of the calves that lose sight of their dams; and being left behind
by the throng, and the swift passing hunters, they endeavour to secrete
themselves, when they are exceedingly put to it on a level prairie,
where nought can be seen but the short grass of six or eight inches in
height, save an occasional bunch of wild sage, a few inches higher, to
which the poor affrighted things will run, and dropping on their knees,
will push their noses under it, and into the grass, where they will
stand for hours, with their eyes shut, imagining themselves securely
hid, whilst they are standing up quite straight upon their hind feet
and can easily be seen at several miles distance. It is a familiar
amusement for us accustomed to these scenes, to retreat back over the
ground where we have just escorted the herd, and approach these little
trembling things, which stubbornly maintain their positions, with their
noses pushed under the grass, and their eyes strained upon us, as we
dismount from our horses and are passing around them. From this fixed
position they are sure not to move, until hands are laid upon them,
and then for the shins of a novice, we can extend our sympathy; or if
he can preserve the skin on his bones from the furious buttings of its
head, we know how to congratulate him on his signal success and good
luck. In these desperate struggles, for a moment, the little thing
is conquered, and makes no further resistance. And I have often, in
concurrence with a known custom of the country, held my hands over the
eyes of the calf, and breathed a few strong breaths into its nostrils;
after which I have, with my hunting companions, rode several miles into
our encampment, with the little prisoner busily following the heels
of my horse the whole way, as closely and as affectionately as its
instinct would attach it to the company of its dam!
This is one of the most extraordinary things that I have met with
in the habits of this wild country, and although I had often heard
of it, and felt unable exactly to believe it, I am now willing to
bear testimony to the fact, from the numerous instances which I have
witnessed since I came into the country. During the time that I resided
at this post, in the spring of the year, on my way up the river, I
assisted (in numerous hunts of the buffalo, with the Fur Company’s
men,) in bringing in, in the above manner, several of these little
prisoners, which sometimes followed for five or six miles close to
our horses’ heels, and even into the Fur Company’s Fort, and into the
stable where our horses were led. In this way, before I left for the
head waters of the Missouri, I think we had collected about a dozen,
which Mr. Laidlaw was successfully raising with the aid of a good milch
cow, and which were to be committed to the care of Mr. Chouteau to be
transported by the return of the steamer, to his extensive plantation
in the vicinity of St. Louis.[15]
It is truly a melancholy contemplation for the traveller in this
country, to anticipate the period which is not far distant, when the
last of these noble animals, at the hands of white and red men, will
fall victims to their cruel and improvident rapacity; leaving these
beautiful green fields, a vast and idle waste, unstocked and unpeopled
for ages to come, until the bones of the one and the traditions of the
other will have vanished, and left scarce an intelligible trace behind.
That the reader should not think me visionary in these contemplations,
or romancing in making such assertions, I will hand him the following
item of the extravagancies which are practiced in these regions, and
rapidly leading to the results which I have just named.
When I first arrived at this place, on my way up the river, which was
in the month of May, in 1832, and had taken up my lodgings in the Fur
Company’s Fort, Mr. Laidlaw, of whom I have before spoken, and also his
chief clerk, Mr. Halsey, and many of their men, as well as the chiefs
of the Sioux, told me, that only a few days before I arrived, (when an
immense herd of buffaloes had showed themselves on the opposite side
of the river, almost blackening the plains for a great distance,) a
party of five or six hundred Sioux Indians on horseback, forded the
river about mid-day, and spending a few hours amongst them, recrossed
the river at sun-down and came into the Fort with _fourteen hundred
fresh buffalo tongues_, which were thrown down in a mass, and for which
they required but a few gallons of whiskey, which was soon demolished,
indulging them in a little, and harmless carouse.
This profligate waste of the lives of these noble and useful animals,
when, from all that I could learn, not a skin or a pound of the
meat (except the tongues), was brought in, fully supports me in
the seemingly extravagant predictions that I have made as to
their extinction, which I am certain is near at hand. In the above
extravagant instance, at a season when their skins were without fur and
not worth taking off, and their camp was so well stocked with fresh and
dried meat, that they had no occasion for using the flesh, there is a
fair exhibition of the improvident character of the savage, and also of
his recklessness in catering for his appetite, so long as the present
inducements are held out to him in his country, for its gratification.
[Illustration: 111]
[Illustration: 112]
In this singular country, where the poor Indians have no laws or
regulations of society, making it a vice or an impropriety to drink to
excess, they think it no harm to indulge in the delicious beverage, as
long as they are able to buy whiskey to drink. They look to white men
as wiser than themselves, and able to set them examples—they see none
of these in their country but sellers of whiskey, who are constantly
tendering it to them, and most of them setting the example by using it
themselves; and they easily acquire a taste, that to be catered for,
where whiskey is sold at sixteen dollars per gallon, soon impoverishes
them, and must soon strip the skin from the last buffalo’s back that
lives in their country, to “be dressed by their squaws” and vended to
the Traders for a pint of diluted alcohol.
From the above remarks it will be seen, that not only the red men,
but red men and white, have aimed destruction at the race of these
animals; and with them, _beasts_ have turned hunters of buffaloes in
this country, slaying them, however, in less numbers, and for far more
laudable purpose than that of selling their skins. The white wolves, of
which I have spoken in a former epistle, follow the herds of buffaloes
as I have said, from one season to another, glutting themselves on the
carcasses of those that fall by the deadly shafts of their enemies,
or linger with disease or old age to be dispatched by these sneaking
cormorants, who are ready at all times kindly to relieve them from the
pangs of a lingering death.
Whilst the herd is together, the wolves never attack them, as they
instantly gather for combined resistance, which they effectually make.
But when the herds are travelling, it often happens that an aged or
wounded one, lingers at a distance behind, and when fairly out of sight
of the herd, is set upon by these voracious hunters, which often gather
to the number of fifty or more, and are sure at last to torture him
to death, and use him up at a meal. The buffalo, however, is a huge
and furious animal, and when his retreat is cut off, makes desperate
and deadly resistance, contending to the last moment for the right of
life—and oftentimes deals death by wholesale, to his canine assailants,
which he is tossing into the air or stamping to death under his feet
(+plate+ 113).
During my travels in these regions, I have several times come across
such a gang of these animals surrounding an old or a wounded bull,
where it would seem, from appearances, that they had been for several
days in attendance, and at intervals desperately engaged in the
effort to take his life. But a short time since, as one of my hunting
companions and myself were returning to our encampment with our horses
loaded with meat, we discovered at a distance, a huge bull, encircled
with a gang of white wolves; we rode up as near as we could without
driving them away, and being within pistol shot, we had a remarkably
good view, where I sat for a few moments and made a sketch in my
note-book (+plate+ 114); after which, we rode up and gave the signal
for them to disperse, which they instantly did, withdrawing themselves
to the distance of fifty or sixty rods, when we found, to our great
surprise, that the animal had made desperate resistance, until his
eyes were entirely eaten out of his head—the grizzle of his nose was
mostly gone—his tongue was half eaten off, and the skin and flesh of
his legs torn almost literally into strings. In this tattered and torn
condition, the poor old veteran stood bracing up in the midst of his
devourers, who had ceased hostilities for a few minutes, to enjoy a
sort of parley, recovering strength and preparing to resume the attack
in a few moments again. In this group, some were reclining, to gain
breath, whilst others were sneaking about and licking their chaps in
anxiety for a renewal of the attack; and others, less lucky, had been
crushed to death by the feet or the horns of the bull. I rode nearer
to the pitiable object as he stood bleeding and trembling before me,
and said to him, “Now is your time, old fellow, and you had better be
off.” Though blind and nearly destroyed, there seemed evidently to be
a recognition of a friend in me, as he straightened up, and, trembling
with excitement, dashed off at full speed upon the prairie, in a
straight line. We turned our horses and resumed our march, and when we
had advanced a mile or more, we looked back, and on our left, where we
saw again the ill-fated animal surrounded by his tormentors, to whose
insatiable voracity he unquestionably soon fell a victim.
Thus much I wrote of the buffaloes, and of the accidents that befall
them, as well as of the fate that awaits them; and before I closed my
book, I strolled out one day to the shade of a plum-tree, where I laid
in the grass on a favourite bluff, and wrote thus:—
“It is generally supposed, and familiarly said, that a man ‘_falls_’
into a rêverie; but I seated myself in the shade a few minutes since,
resolved to _force_ myself into one; and for this purpose I laid open a
small pocket-map of North America, and excluding my thoughts from every
other object in the world, I soon succeeded in producing the desired
illusion. This little chart, over which I bent, was seen in all its
parts, as nothing but the green and vivid reality. I was lifted up upon
an imaginary pair of wings, which easily raised and held me floating
in the open air, from whence I could behold beneath me the Pacific
and the Atlantic Oceans—the great cities of the East, and the mighty
rivers. I could see the blue chain of the great lakes at the North—the
Rocky Mountains, and beneath them and near their base, the vast, and
almost boundless plains of grass, which were speckled with the bands of
grazing buffaloes!
“The world turned gently around, and I examined its surface; continent
after continent passed under my eye, and yet amidst them all, I saw
not the vast and vivid green, that is spread like a carpet over the
Western wilds of my own country. I saw not elsewhere in the world, the
myriad herds of buffaloes—my eyes scanned in vain, for they were not.
And when I turned again to the wilds of my native land, I beheld them
all in motion! For the distance of several hundreds of miles from North
to South, they were wheeling about in vast columns and herds—some were
scattered, and ran with furious wildness—some lay dead, and others
were pawing the earth for a hiding-place—some were sinking down and
dying, gushing out their life’s blood in deep-drawn sighs—and others
were contending in furious battle for the life they possessed, and
the ground that they stood upon. They had long since assembled from
the thickets, and secret haunts of the deep forest, into the midst of
the treeless and bushless plains, as the place for their safety. I
could see in an hundred places, amid the wheeling bands, and on their
skirts and flanks, the leaping wild horse darting among them. I saw
not the arrows, nor heard the twang of the sinewy bows that sent them;
but I saw their victims fall!—on other steeds that rushed along their
sides I saw the glistening lances, which seemed to lay across them;
their blades were blazing in the sun, till dipped in blood, and then
I lost them! In other parts (and there were many), the vivid flash of
_fire-arms_ was seen—_their_ victims fell too, and over their dead
bodies hung suspended in air, little clouds of whitened smoke, from
under which the flying horsemen had darted forward to mingle again
with, and deal death to, the trampling throng.
[Illustration: 113]
[Illustration: 114]
“So strange were men mixed (both red and white) with the countless
herds that wheeled and eddyed about, that all below seemed one vast
extended field of battle—whole armies, in some places, seemed to
blacken the earth’s surface;—in other parts, regiments, battalions,
wings, platoons, rank and file, and “_Indian-file_”—all were in motion;
and death and destruction seemed to be the watch-word amongst them. In
their turmoil, they sent up great clouds of dust, and with them came
the mingled din of groans and trampling hoofs, that seemed like the
rumbling of a dreadful cataract, or the roaring of distant thunder.
Alternate pity and admiration harrowed up in my bosom and my brain,
many a hidden thought; and amongst them a few of the beautiful notes
that were once sung, and exactly in point: ‘_Quadrupedante putrem
sonitu quatit ungula campum._’ Even such was the din amidst the
quadrupeds of these vast plains. And from the craggy cliffs of the
Rocky Mountains also were seen descending into the valley, the myriad
Tartars, who had not horses to ride, but before their well-drawn bows
the fattest of the herds were falling. Hundreds and thousands were
strewed upon the plains—they were flayed, and their reddened carcasses
left; and about them bands of wolves, and dogs, and buzzards were seen
devouring them. Contiguous, and in sight, were the distant and feeble
smokes of wigwams and villages, where the skins were dragged, and
dressed for white man’s luxury! where they were all sold for _whiskey_,
and the poor Indians laid drunk, and were crying. I cast my eyes into
the towns and cities of the East, and there I beheld buffalo robes
hanging at almost every door for traffic; and I saw also the curling
smokes of a thousand _Stills_—and I said, ‘Oh insatiable man, is thy
avarice such! wouldst thou tear the skin from the back of the last
animal of this noble race, _and rob thy fellow-man of his meat, and for
it give him poison_!’” * * * * * * * * *
Many are the rudenesses and wilds in Nature’s works, which are destined
to fall before the deadly axe and desolating hands of cultivating man;
and so amongst her ranks of _living_, of beast and human, we often find
noble stamps, or beautiful colours, to which our admiration clings;
and even in the overwhelming march of civilized improvements and
refinements do we love to cherish their existence, and lend our efforts
to preserve them in their primitive rudeness. Such of Nature’s works
are always worthy of our preservation and protection; and the further
we become separated (and the face of the country) from that pristine
wildness and beauty, the more pleasure does the mind of enlightened man
feel in recurring to those scenes, when he can have them preserved for
his eyes and his mind to dwell upon.
Of such “rudenesses and wilds,” Nature has no where presented more
beautiful and lovely scenes, than those of the vast prairies of the
West; and of _man_ and _beast_, no nobler specimens than those who
inhabit them—the _Indian_ and the _buffalo_—joint and original tenants
of the soil, and fugitives together from the approach of civilized
man; they have fled to the great plains of the West, and there, under
an equal doom, they have taken up their _last abode_, where their race
will expire, and their bones will bleach together.
It may be that _power_ is _right_, and _voracity_ a _virtue_; and that
these people, and these noble animals, are _righteously_ doomed to an
issue that _will_ not be averted. It can be easily proved—we have a
civilized science that can easily do it, or anything else that may be
required to cover the iniquities of civilized man in catering for his
unholy appetites. It can be proved that the weak and ignorant have no
_rights_—that there can be no virtue in darkness—that God’s gifts have
no meaning or merit until they are appropriated by civilized man—by
him brought into the light, and converted to his use and luxury. We
have a mode of reasoning (I forget what it is called) by which all this
can be proved, and even more. The _word_ and the _system_ are entirely
of _civilized_ origin; and latitude is admirably given to them in
proportion to the increase of civilized wants, which often require a
_judge_ to overrule the laws of nature. I say that _we_ can prove such
things; but an _Indian_ cannot. It is a mode of reasoning unknown to
him in his nature’s simplicity, but admirably adapted to subserve the
interests of the enlightened world, who are always their own judges,
when dealing with the savage; and who, in the present refined age, have
many appetites that can only be lawfully indulged, by proving God’s
laws defective.
It is not enough in this polished and extravagant age, that we get from
the Indian his lands, and the very clothes from his back, but the food
from their mouths must be stopped, to add a new and useless article to
the fashionable world’s luxuries. The ranks must be thinned, and the
race exterminated, of this noble animal, and the Indians of the great
plains left without the means of supporting life, that white men may
figure a few years longer, enveloped in buffalo robes—that they may
spread them, for their pleasure and elegance, over the backs of their
sleighs, and trail them ostentatiously amidst the busy throng, as
things of beauty and elegance that had been made for them!
Reader! listen to the following calculations, and forget them not.
The buffaloes (the quadrupeds from whose backs your beautiful robes
were taken, and whose myriads were once spread over the whole country,
from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean) have recently fled
before the appalling appearance of civilized man, and taken up their
abode and pasturage amid the almost boundless prairies of the West.
An instinctive dread of their deadly foes, who made an easy prey of
them whilst grazing in the forest, has led them to seek the midst of
the vast and treeless plains of grass, as the spot where they would be
least exposed to the assaults of their enemies; and it is exclusively
in those desolate fields of silence (yet of beauty) that they are to
be found—and over these vast steppes, or prairies, have they fled,
like the Indian, towards the “setting sun;” until their bands have
been crowded together, and their limits confined to a narrow strip of
country on this side of the Rocky Mountains.
This strip of country, which extends from the province of Mexico to
lake Winnepeg on the North, is almost one entire plain of grass, which
is, and ever must be, useless to cultivating man. It is here, and
here chiefly, that the buffaloes dwell; and with, and hovering about
them, live and flourish the tribes of Indians, whom God made for the
enjoyment of that fair land and its luxuries.
It is a melancholy contemplation for one who has travelled as I have,
through these realms, and seen this noble animal in all its pride and
glory, to contemplate it so rapidly wasting from the world, drawing the
irresistible conclusion too, which one must do, that its species is
soon to be extinguished, and with it the peace and happiness (if not
the actual existence) of the tribes of Indians who are joint tenants
with them, in the occupancy of these vast and idle plains.
And what a splendid contemplation too, when one (who has travelled
these realms, and can duly appreciate them) imagines them as they
_might_ in future be seen, (by some great protecting policy of
government) preserved in their pristine beauty and wildness, in a
_magnificent park_, where the world could see for ages to come, the
native Indian in his classic attire, galloping his wild horse, with
sinewy bow, and shield and lance, amid the fleeting herds of elks and
buffaloes. What a beautiful and thrilling specimen for America to
preserve and hold up to the view of her refined citizens and the world,
in future ages! A _nation’s Park_, containing man and beast, in all the
wild and freshness of their nature’s beauty!
I would ask no other monument to my memory, nor any other enrolment of
my name amongst the famous dead, than the reputation of having been the
founder of such an institution.
Such scenes might easily have been preserved, and still could be
cherished on the great plains of the West, without detriment to
the country or its borders; for the tracts of country on which the
buffaloes have assembled, are uniformly sterile, and of no available
use to cultivating man.
It is on these plains, which are stocked with buffaloes, that the
finest specimens of the Indian race are to be seen. It is here, that
the savage is decorated in the richest costume. It is here, and here
only, that his wants are all satisfied, and even the _luxuries_ of
life are afforded him in abundance. And here also is he the proud and
honourable man (before he has had teachers or laws), above the imported
wants, which beget meanness and vice; stimulated by ideas of honour and
virtue, in which the God of Nature has certainly not curtailed him.
There are, by a fair calculation, more than 300,000 Indians, who are
now subsisted on the flesh of the buffaloes, and by those animals
supplied with all the luxuries of life which they desire, as they
know of none others. The great variety of uses to which they convert
the body and other parts of that animal, are almost incredible to
the person who has not actually dwelt amongst these people, and
closely studied their modes and customs. Every part of their flesh is
converted into food, in one shape or another, and on it they entirely
subsist. The robes of the animals are worn by the Indians instead of
blankets—their skins when tanned, are used as coverings for their
lodges, and for their beds; undressed, they are used for constructing
canoes—for saddles, for bridles—l’arrêts, lasos, and thongs. The horns
are shaped into ladles and spoons—the brains are used for dressing the
skins—their bones are used for saddle trees—for war clubs, and scrapers
for graining the robes—and others are broken up for the marrow-fat
which is contained in them. Their sinews are used for strings and backs
to their bows—for thread to string their beads and sew their dresses.
The feet of the animals are boiled, with their hoofs, for the glue
they contain, for fastening their arrow points, and many other uses.
The hair from the head and shoulders, which is long, is twisted and
braided into halters, and the tail is used for a fly brush. In this
wise do these people convert and use the various parts of this useful
animal, and with all these luxuries of life about them, and their
numerous games, they are happy (God bless them) in the ignorance of the
disastrous fate that awaits them.
Yet this interesting community, with its sports, its wildnesses, its
languages, and all its manners and customs, could be perpetuated, and
also the buffaloes, whose numbers would increase and supply them with
food for ages and centuries to come, if a system of non-intercourse
could be established and preserved. But such is not to be the case—the
buffalo’s doom is sealed, and with their extinction must assuredly sink
into real despair and starvation, the inhabitants of these vast plains,
which afford for the Indians, no other possible means of subsistence;
and they must at last fall a prey to wolves and buzzards, who will have
no other bones to pick.
It seems hard and cruel, (does it not?) that we civilized people with
all the luxuries and comforts of the world about us, should be drawing
from the backs of these useful animals the skins for our luxury,
leaving their carcasses to be devoured by the wolves—that we should
draw from that country, some 150 or 200,000 of their robes annually,
the greater part of which are taken from animals that are killed
expressly for the robe, at a season when the meat is not cured and
preserved, and for each of which skins the Indian has received but a
pint of whiskey!
Such is the fact, and that number or near it, are annually destroyed,
in addition to the number that is necessarily killed for the
subsistence of 300,000 Indians, who live entirely upon them. It may
be said, perhaps, that the Fur Trade of these great western realms,
which is now limited chiefly to the purchase of buffalo robes, is of
great and national importance, and should and must be encouraged. To
such a suggestion I would reply, by merely enquiring, (independently of
the poor Indians’ disasters,) how much more advantageously would such
a capital be employed, both for the weal of the country and for the
owners, if it were invested in machines for the manufacture of _woollen
robes_, of equal and superior value and beauty; thereby encouraging
the growers of wool, and the industrious manufacturer, rather than
cultivating a taste for the use of buffalo skins; which is just to be
acquired, and then, from necessity, to be dispensed with, when a few
years shall have destroyed the last of the animals producing them.
It may be answered, perhaps, that the necessaries of life are given in
exchange for these robes; but what, I would ask, are the necessities
in Indian life, where they have buffaloes in abundance to live on?
The Indian’s necessities are entirely artificial—are all created; and
when the buffaloes shall have disappeared in his country, which will
be within _eight_ or _ten_ years, I would ask, who is to supply him
with the necessaries of life then? and I would ask, further, (and leave
the question to be answered ten years hence), when the skin shall have
been stripped from the back of the last animal, who is to resist the
ravages of 300,000 starving savages; and in their trains, 1,500,000
wolves, whom direst necessity will have driven from their desolate and
gameless plains, to seek for the means of subsistence along our exposed
frontier? God has everywhere supplied man in a state of Nature, with
the necessaries of life, and before we destroy the game of his country,
or teach him new desires, he has no wants that are not satisfied.
Amongst the tribes who have been impoverished and repeatedly removed,
the necessaries of life are extended with a better grace from the
hands of civilized man; 90,000 of such have already been removed, and
they draw from Government some 5 or 600,000 dollars annually in cash;
_which money passes immediately into the hands of white men_, and for
it the necessaries of life _may be_ abundantly furnished. But who, I
would ask, are to furnish the Indians who have been instructed in this
unnatural mode—living upon _such_ necessaries, and even luxuries of
life, extended to them by the hands of white men, when those annuities
are at an end, and the skin is stripped from the last of the animals
which God gave them for their subsistence?
Reader, I will stop here, lest you might forget to answer these
important queries—these are questions which I know will puzzle the
world—and, perhaps it is not right that I should ask them. * *
* * * * * * *
* * Thus much I wrote and painted at this place, whilst on my way up
the river: after which I embarked on the steamer for the Yellow Stone,
and the sources of the Missouri, through which interesting regions I
have made a successful Tour; and have returned, as will have been seen
by the foregoing narrations, in my canoe, to this place, from whence
I am to descend the river still further in a few days. If I ever get
time, I may give further Notes on this place, and of people and their
doings, which I met with here; but at present, I throw my note-book,
and canvass, and brushes into my canoe, which will be launched
to-morrow morning, and on its way towards St. Louis, with myself at
the steering-oar, as usual; and with Ba’tiste and Bogard to paddle, of
whom, I beg the readers’ pardon for having said nothing of late, though
they have been my constant companions. Our way is now over the foaming
and muddy waters of the Missouri, and amid snags and drift logs (for
there is a sweeping freshet on her waters), and many a day will pass
before other Letters will come from me; and possibly, the reader may
have to look to my biographer for the rest. Adieu.
[13] The reader will be further instructed on this subject, by
referring back to +plate+ 9, in the beginning of the book.
[14] The readers will look forward to +plates+ 240 and 243, in the
Second Volume, for snow shoes.
[15] The fate of these poor little prisoners, I was informed on my
return to St. Louis a year afterwards, was a very disastrous one.
The steamer having a distance of 1600 miles to perform, and lying
a week or two on sand bars, in a country where milk could not be
procured, they all perished but one, which is now flourishing in
the extensive fields of this gentleman.