Home
Calendar
FAQ
Memberlist
Search
Usergroups
Register
Log in
BUFFALO HUNTING IN KANSAS 1878 STYLE by Lief "UFFDA" Aaland
The following pages are a first hand account of an actual buffalo hunt, which took place in western Kansas, December 1986.) The area which this takes place is filled with many documented historical accounts during the era served by the Butterfield Overland Dispatch. For this short account of this hunt I will put myself back in time to the hay days of such doings.
My line of work is that of a journalist, employed by "The Harpers Weekly". I had recently been responsible for writing articles dealing with the exploits of the western expansion. Living in New York and myself not having been west of the Ohio Valley, meant the sources for these articles was written by second hand accounts, of seemingly tall tales, coming east from the great plains. Week after week I listened and wrote of hair raising stories brought back by traders, hunters, military personnel, and others adventurous travelers. The stories and talk of buffalo as far as an eye could see, the hide hunters work, bloody Indian raids, and settlers pushing westward, as the great plains began opening up for settlements. Two major factors for this renewed expansion was the country’s intense determination to link the east and the west coasts with the iron rail, along with the establishment of the Santa Fe and Chisholm cattle trails from the south to the northern cattle markets. With these events, lawless cow towns were springing up overnight, and Indian troubles became common place throughout the area along the Smoky Hill Trail, served by the B.O.D., which was the only established stage and freight line linking eastern Kansas to Denver, along the banks of the Smoky Hill River.
One day while sitting at my desk desperately trying to meet another deadline, my editor confronted me with a proposal, which would allow me to gain a first hand account of this western expansion. Of course I couldn’t refuse, and I soon found myself on a train from New York, heading west, bound for St. Louis. Upon my arrival, this western city was hustling with activity. Buffalo robes were being loaded onto rail cars by the thousands, destined for Chicago, and other various markets in the east. Settlers and their families were provisioning themselves for the long journey west, with hopes of finding the fertile, tillable, lands which lay west of the Mississippi.
After interviewing many travelers, I learned of an organized buffalo hunt which would soon take place near western Kansas, I was warned of the many dangers along the way as travel would not be pleasant on the B.O.D. I was told the road would be dusty and rough, water scarce in places, and the food was hardly fit for consummation at many stops. The worst, however, would be the fury of the Indians, as the Smoky Hill region was one of their best hunting grounds, and they were determined not to loose their prime buffalo lands to the white invaders. As the expansion pressed west, the prairie would become known for turning red with bloodshed, before the forthcoming battles would be over. Never the less, in spite of the many dangers which might lie ahead, I was determined to make the journey to Ft. Wallace, being the last military out-post between western Kansas and Denver. While in route to Ft. Hayes, a few dozen Indians were seen, but they appeared friendly. The only major delay we faced was waiting out a stampeding herd of buffalo. All one could really see was a huge cloud of dust, as the ground trembled beneath our feet, while the herd made its way across our path. Upon reaching Ft. Hayes, we were enthusiastically greeted, while many soldiers were amazed we hadn’t been ambushed along the way, as reports of vicious Indian raids were nearly a daily event. I met with the post commander, along with the drivers of a mail stage which was soon to leave for Ft. Wallace. After much argument, I was allowed passage on the stage. The following morning, we set out in route which later reveal itself as one of the most dangerous stretches of prairie along the B.O.D. The drivers were heavily armed should trouble present itself, including several "Sharps" rifles. I had heard of incredible stories while in the east concerning this guns capabilities; one which pretty much describes it best, was how the Indians viewed the white man’s medicine rifle, which "shoots today and hits its target tomorrow".
As we came to where the Ladder Creek and Smoky Hill River joined, we were suddenly attacked by a Cheyenne war party, which was led by a tall warrior referred to as Roman Nose. They made a bold, brief attack but fled quickly a s the Sharps rifles were fired. Several warriors were killed in the brief fight, as we were fortunate to escape injury. As we again proceeded on, each passing mile along the route became tense, as we were sure the Indians would soon return. When we reached the bluff overlooking the south fork of the Smoky Hill river (about a half days ride east of Ft. Wallace) I saw for myself the results of the brutal savage attacks these war parties were noted for. As we stopped, looking for survivors, I was horrified to the ghastly scene. The men half stripped, mutilated bodies were found scattered about the site, many of which were pierced with dozens of arrows, as some of the wagons still smoldered.
As I pondered the where bout's of nay women and children which may have been involved, one driver handed ma an arrow and replied, "looks like Roman Nose and his warriors were responsible for this massacre, and as for women and children, they were probably taken captive and taken to the village where they would be worked as slaves".
Before leaving the site we buried the bodies in shallow graves marking them with stones. We reached Ft. Wallace late that day, and promptly reported the events which befell us along the route. Col George Custer quickly gathered his men, and the patrol was soon in pursuit of Roman Nose and his party.
The next day I met with 1st Sgt. Ben Thompson, who was to lead a small patrol from Ft. Wallace to the small settlement of Sharon Springs, where the patrol was to meet and escort a group of buffalo hunters, hunting meat for the Army. I was issued a horse, and allowed to tag along. We reached Sharon Springs late in the evening, and checked into the finest hotel in town. I met one of the buffalo hunters, who went by the name of "Wounded Ba’r" or "Buck" to his friends (a name earned with years of living with friendly Indians in the area), as the evening wore on, Buck and 1st Sgt. Thompson told many accounts of previous hunts and of Indian encounters; many of which, would certainly make eastern readers shutter in horror (if Ned Buntline could hear these stories - WOW). Late that night, a Army scout, known as "Butcher", arrives into the town, escorting a family of settlers who were also, taking part in this hunt. The scout was to bunk with us (myself, Buck and 1st Sgt. Thompson). It was near sun up before anyone got any sleep, as old times were again reunited among old friends that have experienced many good and bad times together. I learned the scout was a former trapper, trapping beaver in the Rocky Mountains, and he worked as a wagon train scout, during the mass exodus of settlers over the Oregon Trail some years before. He had recently been hired by the Army as "Chief of Scouts" and as an interrupter, due to his vast knowledge of the Indian ways and language.
A cold, damp, foggy morning greeted us as we arose from our short slumber. We met the settlers at the dinning hall across the street, and after a fine breakfast, we hitched up the iron mules and headed south-east, where a large herd of buffalo had been spotted by the scout the previous day. Upon reaching our hunting grounds we met with two other military scouts, Wilbur and Charley, who were sent from Ft. Wallace a few days before to organize the hunt and establish a base camp. We all introduced ourselves plans were made for the forthcoming hunt, as the necessary personal gear was gathered by each of us.
The fog was beginning to burn off by now and in the distance, two lone buffalo came into view, nearly a mile away. We began to stalk the animals using the cover of the trees along a dry river bed.
The settler carried a pair of 50 caliber Hawkin rifles, and the "Butcher" carried a 62 caliber Hawkin, 1st Sgt. Thompson was armed with a well used 45/70 Sharps carbine, while "Buck" carried a beautiful 40/70 Sharps sporting rifle won in a recent contest at the fort. I, on the other hand, was only armed with a Colt 44/40 revolver, and admit the 44/40 was fine for Indians at close range, but it would be no match for a charging buffalo. But I figured that the Colt would have been slightly better than throwing rocks to ward off a charge. Hell, there weren’t any rocks to throw anyway, as the closest thing one could easily find resembling a rock were prairie pies.
The buffalo were easily approached, and the plan was to allow the Hawkin rifles shoot first. The settler, settled down into a sitting position about 50 yards away. After a long wait for that perfect shot, the 50 caliber broke the morning silence, and to everyone’s amazement the big bull just stood there as if nothing had happened. Soon the 62 caliber Hawkin roared. I could see the smaller buffalo flinch, but he also just stood there. The two bulls milled around and then ran a short distance before the Hawkins could be reloaded. Again the animals were approached to within 75 yards, as the Hawking roared again, as each animal again ran off, seemingly unhurt. This time as we approached them, they were snorting, rolling on the ground and then pawing the ground with their hooves, marking their respective territories. Wilbur told me "they are getting ready to fight us and have marked their ground". I quickly realized these magnificent animals were not going to be easy to kill, and the longer this pursuit lasted, the more enraged they would become, which we all knew could have grave results should a charge be made upon the hunting party.
We regrouped, and again made our approach to within 75-80 yards. The Hawkins again shot, without any apparent effect. The hide hunter then quickly shouldered the 40/70 Sharps, and when that gun bellowed, the buffalo knew he had been hit, but wouldn’t go down. Two more rounds were fired before he went down for good, as the large bull ran circles around the downed friend in an attempt to get him to get on his feet. Several moments passed, and then the bull stampeded away in confusion.
The settler, with his family, started out after the buffalo as 1st Sgt. Thompson and I followed per instructions from "Buck" who by now was really upset at the events up to now, "if that fool can’t get him on the ground, Ben kill that poor animal". We caught up to the bull about a mile away from where the other buffalo was shot. The 1st Sgt. and myself were about 300 yards away, where we see the buffalo marking his territory in usual fashion, when he charged an iron mule, which had gotten too close. As we tried to get closer, the bull was again on the run. As he ran along side us, the settler fired again. The buffalo went about a 100 yards and turned, stampeding back the way he had come. 1st Sgt. Thompson offered the Sharps to the settler, but he refused the offer, not feeling comfortable with a strange rifle, at which time he told the 1st Sgt. to shoot the animal, as enough was enough. I could still hear Buck's words from minutes before and knew he was right, enough was enough. As bull cam running by at 100 yards the 45/70 was fired off hand and the big Sharps stopped the bull in his tracks. The bullet caught the buffalo through the lungs, nearly knocking him off his feet. It took only moments for him to get sick and lay down as the lungs filled with blood. With one last kick the bull rolled onto his side, as I turned around to congratulate the 1st Sgt., he was holding the Sharps high in the air, while doing what appeared to be some sort of ceremonial buffalo death dance, as the settler walked towards the dead animal.
Well, as "Buck" mentioned the night before, "when the shootin’ stops the work starts" and was he correct, the real work began with removing the interparts, getting the hides off and preparing the carcasses for transport once the animals were brought back to the base camp. When I reached the camp the 1st animal had already been hung and the skinners were busy with their handy work. The "Butcher" took the robe and began skinning out the head, while some of us discussed the days events, over a light lunch and coffee around the camp fire. The "Butcher" called out directing our attention to the western horizon, where an Indian war party watched us from a hill. Several warriors began riding toward us. 1st Sgt. and Buck held their Sharps high in the air as a warning, as the rest of us prepared for a possible attack which would come very quickly. The warriors circled at a distance while the others watched from the hill. When they rejoined the group, they milled around as if making battle plans. They rode a short distance towards us then stopped, waving their weapons in the air and shouting at us, as our Sharps shooters returned the same greetings to them. Soon they rode off, not to be seen again. None the less, a guard was posted, while the rest of the camp resumed work. The work continued until dark, by now most was finished.
After a long ride back to Sharon Springs, we stopped at the dinning hall. It was Saturday night and the place was filled with the local folks. They made glancing stares our way, as if they tried to gain a sense of reality. I suppose we did look a might strange dressed as we were. These fine folks were used to having pheasant hunters invade their town, but buffalo hunters ? After a good meal, we were quite tired and retired early, as morning would arrive soon enough, when it would be time again to hitch up the iron mules and wagon for the long journey back home and back to the modern world.
______________________________________________________________
SHOOTING THE AMERICAN BISON (taken from an article written by the owner of Buckhorn Rendezvous)
Not proclaiming to be an expert on the subject of shooting buffalo, but I have been involved in the harvesting of several dozen of these animals since 1978, of this number I personally have taken seven (7) animals with a flintlock smoothbore, two (2) buffalo with a rifled flintlock and three (3) more with a 40/70 2-1/10 BN Sharps Sporting rifle.
For size, they ranged from 1250 pounds to 1700 pounds live weight, they all took a mimuim of two (2) hits or more from a 54 caliber or larger muzzle loader with charges from 85 to 100 grains of 2F or 3F powder and patched round balls. The three (3) shot with the 40/70 2-1/10 BN Sharps - used cast 403 to 425 grain spire or round point bullets - duplex loads; 6/SR4759 - 61/2F or 6/SR4759 - 60/3F combinations depending on the bullet weight.
One bad acting cow took four (4) 50 caliber round balls with 100 grain charges of 2F, and still got up and ran off, finally killing her for the shocked hunter with my 62 caliber smoothbore at close range to end her suffering. Two (2) of the 50 caliber balls where placed in the neck, but missed the vertebra and the efsoss, another 50 caliber ball was in the back of the ear at the edge of the brain cavity and the fourth (4th) was in the gut. Lot’s of shots - no cigar. The one (1) .600 round ball that did her in was never retrieved as it went through the lungs and out the other side leaving a large wound cavity. (Customer’s animal). KS
Another bull was shot through the side of the heart and behind the ear into the vertebra with a 54 caliber gun using heavy charges and patched round balls, he never went down. He started to turn around to make a charge at the shooter when I was asked to stop a possible problem, again with a 62 caliber smoothbore, patched round ball through the lungs, only one (1) shot was needed. (Customer’s animal). WY
A year later in Kansas, a 52 caliber and a 50 caliber backup gun would not keep the animal on the ground, with hits in the gut and neck, again I was asked to stop the animal with the 62 cal smoothbore flintier, as before one (1) shot through the lungs ended a dangerous problem. (Customer’s animal). KS
Several years later a friend who has hunted buffalo at several locations here in the west, using a 58 caliber percussion gun placed a good shot in the left side of the brain and a second shot dead center on the neck, the animal stumbled but didn’t go down, finally a lung shot ended the hunt on this 1200 pound animal. (Customer’s animal). WY
On this same hunt (above) another friend was using a pair of 50 caliber guns and managed to tick off a 1550 pound bull with two (2) neck shots that didn’t hit anything vital. After chasing and be threatened by a very angry animal a 45/70 was used to end the poor shooting. Oh, another lung shot. (Customer’s animal). WY
After returning home and examining several skulls from previous hunts and a hunting log kept on muzzle loading and Sharps buffalo hunts, and looking at the anomothy of the American Bison, Lief Aaland, Ben Thompson and your truly made up a check list of what the next customer would need to think about before venturing out to hunt this amazing animal.
• 1. use a 54 caliber or larger gun with a good 100 grain plus charge of 2F and a good combination patch and round ball.
• 2. check the client’s hunting ability as well as his shooting and reloading skills (do not go on hear say), have him shoot a 5 gallon pail at 100 yards 5 times in a given time limit, before going any further on hunt plans.
• 3. school him in the anomothy of the animal he’s going to hunt, whether it’s buffalo, elk , deer or field mouse, when he touches his weapon off he wants the animal to go down and stay down, period - end of story.
• 4. make it clear that when the shooting stops, he will be expected to help with the work involved in caring for his animal, that’s cleaning, removing the hide and taking care of the meat.
• 5. make it understood that getting their game home and prepared for freezing is not the stores responsibility, as is trespassing or breaking any game laws, they are responsible for their actions.
• 6. the client and his/her friends/family are his responsibility for the hunt, during and after when on private property.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
NOTE:
• Head shots are usually not a good idea as the brain of a buffalo is about the size of a soft ball and at 100 yards or so, it is a small moving target with a good cushion of heavy hair.
• Neck shots are poor because of the massive size of the neck, the vertebra and effofica are missed more than hit from reports of ranchers that are in the business of raising and shooting these animals.
• Heart shots are good, but quite often missed if the animal is moving, usually a front leg is hit.
• Lungs have worked well for us, mainly because of the large size and the short time involved before the animal goes down, usually they forget about running away or at the hunter. The lungs fill with blood in short order when hit with a large caliber ball. Use patched round balls for muzzle loaders and a good tested semi or round nose bullet for the black powder cartridge guns.
We have several skulls as examples that have been shot between the eyes, forehead, through the eye into the brain and they all where able to function enough to become aggressive to any one or anything they came in contact with. When hunting an animal of such mass, put it on the ground as fast5 as possible, don’t let it get a second wind.
Thanks for your time. Buck Conner
The Buckhorn Rendezvous ~ Masonville CO ~ 02/20/89
