While many people believe the near extermination of buffalo began with the opening of the transcontinental railroad, numerous herds had already seen their population decrease as far back as the 1830s and 1840s. Part of their decline was due to hunting by the mountain men and Great Plains tribes. The mountain men’s first choice of fur was beaver, but as the demand for those pelts began to fade, they turned to the buffalo. Long before the various Great Plains tribes hunted by horseback, hunters would chase a herd on foot, shaking blankets and yelling, forcing them in the direction of a cliff or cut-bank. (This hunting tactic is known as a “buffalo jump.”) The animals would plummet over the precipice, bouncing and slamming into the rocks as they tumbled. Those that were not killed in the fall were disabled, usually breaking their legs, leaving the hunters to finish off their prey with spears and arrows. As far back as Lewis and Clark’s 1803 expedition, many bones and skulls were found as silent testimony to the Indians’ hunting tactics.14 Today, many buffalo jump sites are proving to be a treasure for archaeologists. Another reason for the decline in the buffalo herds was from various parasites such as ticks, botflies, and mites. Some of these parasites would be inhaled by the buffalo as it foraged for grass, often occupying nasal passages and working their way into the lungs. Bacteria which led to pneumonia were another fatal cause of death. In 1887, pneumonia wiped out the entire buffalo herd of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show in New York City.15
However, the advancement of the transcontinental railroad was the final step in the decimation of the buffalo herds on the Southern Plains. Buffalo heads became fashionable as decorative items, often mounted in train stations, Eastern office buildings, and the mansions of the wealthy. The winter hides were popular as rugs or coats. Advancements in tanning buffalo hides in the East and in Europe meant even the summer hides (which lacked any heavy hair) could be used for various products, including belts and boots.
Descending onto the Southern Plains like locusts, buffalo hunters came armed with their deadly Sharps .50 caliber rifle, a weapon that with one shot could bring down a mighty male bull weighing two thousand pounds. The Sharps, which cost $125 in 1871, was a large-bore rifle with a barrel length of thirty inches. The lever-action weapon had great long-range accuracy, firing one cartridge at a time. It was said to be one of—if not the —most powerful black-powder cartridges ever produced. A hunter would sit, or lie, a distance away from the herd, usually staying downwind, as buffalo would scatter when they smelled something they perceived as dangerous. The boom from the hunter’s rifle sounded a lot like a clap of thunder, something that did not necessarily upset a buffalo herd. Oblivious to the danger surrounding them, they continued to graze, heedless of the slaughter that was about to begin.
At first, hunters killed for a buffalo’s coat and the decorative head. Dismantling the hide and head was left to men called “skinners.” It was a thankless, bloody, smelly, and time-consuming job accomplished under a baking sun. As skinners made their way from one dead body to another, the stench grew fouler because the carcasses were simply left to rot in the sun. (This did not count the buffalo that were shot but staggered away to die and were never skinned.) Once the hides were stripped from the body, they would be staked out in the sun to dry, then stacked in a wagon. In 1872, a buffalo hide sold for $3. (Today, a buffalo hide can cost from $800 to over $1,500.) The sun-bleached bones of a buffalo were also found to be useful when they were ground up and used as fertilizer.
It wasn’t the public clamoring for the hides and heads that led to the slaughter of the buffalo. A set of circumstances combined nearly simultaneously to spell their destruction. Writing about the slaughter, Theodore noted that it went on “with appalling rapidity and thoroughness.”16
The first circumstance was a military maneuver. In fighting a war, the quickest way to subdue an opponent is to cut his line of supply. The shaggy beasts were a vital source of survival for the Great Plains tribes. Aside from the meat they provided, hides, especially the winter coats, provided warmth as blankets and robes, as well as covers for a tepee. The animal’s sinews served as bowstrings, and were used for sewing, while bones became cooking utensils, hide scrapers, and weapons. Hooves proved to make a useful glue, while the bladder functioned as a short-term water pouch. General Philip Sheridan realized that destroying the buffalo herds was the quickest way to solve the “Indian problem.” Thus, Sheridan approved the wholesale slaughter of the shaggy beasts.
The second circumstance was the railroad industry. It was not uncommon for a train to sit on the tracks for hours, if not a whole day, waiting for a huge herd to pass. Also, a buffalo herd was quite capable of derailing an engine and other cars if the locomotive was unable to stop in time. During the harsh winters, buffalo sought shelter in the cuts formed by the grade of the tracks that wound through hills and mountains, which could delay a train for days.
There was also money to be made. The transcontinental railroad made a hefty profit shipping buffalo hides, heads, and bones to market, not to mention offering hunters from the East and Europe the opportunity to shoot at a herd from the safety of a passing train traveling along the Southern Plains. These fearless hunters banged away from the security of a train window, leaving dead and wounded animals in the engine’s wake. They were not even skinned for the hides or the meat; it was done solely for the thrill of killing from a passing train.
Lincoln Lang, traveling on the train from Dickinson to Little Missouri with his father, recalled how a group of hunters threw open the windows after spotting a small, bedraggled herd of buffalo along the track. As the train approached, the buffalo “made off up an open draw, at their characteristic bobbing gait” while the hunters were “bombarding them.”17 Lang’s father asked the train conductor to at least stop and pick up the dead animals, but the request was denied.
Buffalo also incurred the wrath of the telegraph company—the third set of circumstances effective in their demise. In the summer, buffalo shed their winter coats, thereby losing protection from the constant attack of flies. A buffalo usually seeks the solace of a tree to scratch his back and sides for relief, but on the Plains, where no tree can be found, a telegraph pole becomes a worthy substitute. No telegraph pole can withstand the force of a buffalo in need of a scratch. Consequently, poles would be pushed down, severing the telegraph line. Eliminating the buffalo from the area solved the telegraph company’s quandary.
By 1878, the buffalo herds of the Southern Plains had been completely eliminated.
Hunters now turned their attention to the Northern Plains herd, and the endless slaughter continued. In 1881, a Montana supplier shipped 250,000 buffalo hides back east. Two years later, he sent only ten.18 In the summer of 1883, the US government hired a band of Sioux to kill a herd of five thousand buffalo along the Northern Pacific Railroad in order to prevent train wrecks. Later that season, the manager of the Standing Rock Indian Agency had tribal members kill another ten thousand buffalo.19 By the time Theodore arrived in Dakota Territory in September 1883, the once-massive buffalo herds had been reduced to a small group of stragglers, finding refuge from the large-bore rifles in the various cou-lees of the Badlands. (A band of twenty-three buffalo managed to survive in Yellowstone National Park during the decimating hunt of the Northern Plains herd.) Aside from the tribes of the Great Plains, few people concerned themselves with the eradication of the buffalo. Money was to be made in killing them, and once the Plains were free of them, another moneymaking venture moved in—cattle.
Unlike the buffalo’s migration to North America, cattle were imported, first by the Spaniards in 1521.20 Cattle arrived on the East Coast of North America in 1611 at Jamestown, Virginia, and more stock arrived by the mid-1600s from England, Sweden, Denmark, and the Netherlands. These herds also grew quickly in size, roaming freely over the land.21 As the Spanish moved north, they brought with them a large herd of cattle that quickly spread out across what is now Texas. As early as 1842, Texas cattle were being driven to Shreveport and New Orleans and se
nt north via ships. During the Mexican-American War, Texan Edward Piper drove a herd to Ohio, while other Texans moved cattle overland to San Francisco during the California Gold Rush.22 Once the Civil War ended in 1865, the men of Texas returned to find that much of the cattle they had left unattended had grown by leaps and bounds. The Easterners were clamoring for beef, offering $40 to $50 a head. The opening of the 345-acre Chicago Union Stock Yards on Christmas Day, 1865, baptized the Illinois city as the center for cattle business.
Texans had plenty of cattle. The transcontinental railroad being built across the Plains could ship the beef to Eastern markets. The cattle drive was born.23
Jesse Chisholm had made his way up and down a faint trail from roughly central Texas to Wichita, Kansas, as early as 1865.24 The Chisholm Trail (1867–1882) became one of the best-known cattle trails in the West, making its way north from the Nueces River in Texas through Indian Country (now Oklahoma), where it originally drifted northeast to the towns of Wichita and Abilene. The trail could also branch off toward the future cow towns of Ellsworth (north) or Dodge City (northwest). Each time the railroad made a significant advance in laying tracks, a new cow town was born. Each one of these new towns enabled thousands of cattle to be shipped to Chicago meat markets for processing.25
The cattle of choice was longhorn. Tough, rangy animals that sported long legs and even longer horns (many extending to seven or eight feet), they thrived in the arid climate and, despite being occasionally ill-tempered, were born for the long drives.26 The breed was resistant to disease and easily subsisted on the minimal vegetation of the Texas plains.
Driving cattle required men, horses, and supplies. A cattle owner could, barring any calamities on the trail, earn a hefty profit from beef buyers when all went well. The drive itself, however, offered numerous difficulties, from lack of water to interference from Indians, foul weather, and one of the most dreaded events—stampede. Timing was everything in getting a herd to market. Push them too fast, they dropped weight, which meant less money. Bring your herd up too slowly and you risked having competing cattle outfits sell their stock at the best price. Leaving too soon could mean the grass your herd would need to feed on wouldn’t be mature enough, while a later departure meant the good grass would already be consumed.
Indians were another headache. They could steal some of your stock or demand a toll for crossing their reservation. The toll usually came in the form of handing over a certain number of cows. Experienced cattle owners picked up wandering mavericks (unbranded cattle) to serve as a possible toll a tribe may demand. Others chose to take a different direction, avoiding Indian land, although that could mean days without access to water. Water was essential for a successful cattle drive. Without an adequate supply, a herd could be finished before reaching the railhead. From the beginning of the cattle drives, most cattlemen followed established trails that were near major rivers, as well as tributaries that could keep both cattle and men from going dry.
Depending on the size of the drive (herds numbered as low as 500 to as high as 2,500), the need for men to handle the drive ranged from a dozen to possibly twenty. The trail boss ran the outfit. He was a man of experience, knowing cattle, men, and the land they would cross. Often riding ahead of the herd (usually two or three miles in advance), he would scout the land, as well as search for water and any signs of trouble. To keep a herd in check, a trail boss picked a dominant animal, usually a bull, to become the lead steer. Because of its assertive attitude, the lead steer would keep others in line. Where he led, the rest followed. (The lead steer was often not sold, instead making numerous trips up the trail.) The chuck wagon and the remuda (horse herd) would be ahead and to the right or left of the herd. “Riding point” was given to the more-established riders, along with the lead steer. As the herd snaked out along the trail, “swing” or “flank” riders rode alongside, ready to chase any animal that tried to break from the group. “Riding drag” was the least desirable position, often given to the newer members of the crew. They rode behind the herd, keeping the stragglers moving. Most of these riders became heavily covered in dust, not to mention enduring the various smells courtesy of the cattle. If the weather cooperated, a herd could make fifteen miles on the trail on an average day.
Weather on the Plains in the late spring and early summer was fickle. It could be chilly, then boiling hot—within hours. Rain would tamp down the dust, but the resulting mud made moving a herd dirty at best, dangerous at worst. A thunderstorm could easily spook the cattle, which was the greatest fear of a trail boss and his men. It could happen in broad daylight or in the middle of the night. At night, crew members worked two-hour shifts riding circles in opposite directions around the herd, often softly singing a ballad to calm the sleeping animals. If a stampede began, the one place no rider wanted to be, especially at night, was ahead of cattle running wildly. One slip of a horse’s hoof and both rider and horse were finished.
Feeding a crew of cowboys was left to the cook, who typically had a variety of nicknames, such as Cookie, Biscuit Roller, Hash Slinger, Sourdough, Belly Cheater, and Grub Spoiler. If the cattle owner and trail boss were smart, they hired the best available, because a good cook was worth every cent. He would also tend to dental problems, set broken bones, stitch wounds, and even cut hair. He was first up, setting the fire and getting the morning breakfast ready to serve by four in the morning: black coffee (commonly called Arbuckles for the company that sold it), biscuits, beans, meat, and gravy. Once breakfast was served, the cook quickly broke camp and drove the chuck wagon ahead to a spot, chosen by the trail boss, to set up to serve a quick lunch (often beans, biscuits, and coffee), before moving on to the night camp. Every night, he would point the tongue of his wagon to the North Star as a way to guide the herd to their destination.
The chuck wagon was the cook’s domain. In it he carried everything he needed for the drive. Often called a “commissary on wheels,” it was the creation of cattleman Charles Goodnight. Taking a typical wagon with a canvas top, he added a box at the rear (called a chuck box) that would hold tin dishes, Dutch ovens, a kettle, and the large coffeepot. It also had various drawers that held the cook’s staples: coffee, flour, beans, and sugar. A folding board was attached to the bottom of the chuck-box lid that served as a table when cooking a meal. The rest of the wagon would hold the bedrolls for the cowboys and each man’s “war bag” (either a canvas or flour bag that held his personal items or extra clothes). Alongside the wagon was one, sometimes two, water barrels. A canvas sling (known as a “bitch” or “caboose”) was strung under the wagon to hold dry wood or buffalo chips for future use as firewood. The wagon also carried necessary tools and possibly an extra wagon wheel. (Some cattle drives had an additional wagon, called the hoodlum, which carried the bedrolls and the cowboys’ war bags.)
The most important part of a cattle drive, next to the herd, was the cowboy. Most men on a drive were no older than twenty-five, former soldiers from either side of the Civil War. The cowboys, as Theodore noted, “form[ed] a class by themselves.” He observed that the cowboys from Texas were “the best at the actual cowboy work . . . fearless riders.” They understood the habits of the cattle they watched over, and were “only excelled by the Mexicans” in using a rope.27 (The word cowboy originated in Ireland, circa AD 1000, where boys were hired to herd cows.) A cowboy’s clothing and equipment was adapted from those of the vaqueros in Mexico, and little has changed in almost two hundred years. The leather chaps (from the word chaparreras ) protected the rider’s legs from the brush, especially the chaparral, as well as keeping his legs warm in winter. A vest, usually with four pockets, carried his pocket watch, tobacco, folding knife, and other items. The hat, especially in the Southwest, had a wide brim to shield his face from the blistering sun. It also doubled as a quick water bucket for his horse. His boots, with high leather necks, boasted a high heel that prevented his boot from slipping through the stirrups. Gloves protected his wrists from rope burns from the lariat he was con
sistently using. One of the most important features a cowboy wore was a bandana. Made generally from silk, it served multiple purposes, aside from looking stylish. A bandana served as a mask if one was riding drag, as a towel, and as ear cover in winter. It tied down the rider’s hat in windy weather and served as a sling for a broken arm or a strainer for muddy water. Most cowboys also carried a sidearm, but left their rifles in the chuck wagon unless the trail boss expected trouble.
Equally important for the cowboy was his Western saddle, an off-shoot of the Mexican saddle. Working a cattle drive, most cowboys carried a minimum of equipment on their horse. The two most important items were a canteen and the ever-present lariat (made out of rawhide, grass, or horsehair), which were tied to the saddle using leather strings. If rain was expected, the cowboy’s slicker would be tied onto the back of his saddle. During a single day on the drive, a cowboy would use a minimum of three horses, switching out his first horse at lunch, and then switching out again when riding night herd.
The year 1883 marked the arrival of Texas cattle in the Little Missouri region. Taking the Western Trail from Ogallala, cattlemen swung their herds northwest on what quickly became known as the Texas Trail. A vital reason why Texas cattle arrived on the Northern Plains was the grass (“breast high to the horse”). Unlike the scrubby grass found on the Southern Plains, cattlemen soon learned that their herds gained more weight from grazing on the stem-cured bunch (which offered better nutritional value for the beef), grama, and buffalo grasses. Not only did the grass last during the summer, but cattle could also find enough to survive in the winter by pawing through the snow. This was another circumstance for the elimination of the buffalo: They grazed on the same grass.
THE COWBOY PRESIDENT Page 4