The Plight of the Buffalo
By Colonel Henry Inman, 1897
The American buffalo, also known as the bison, once reigned supreme across the vast expanse of North America. Historical accounts and indigenous oral traditions paint a picture of a range that stretched from the Appalachian Mountains in the east to the rugged peaks of the Rocky Mountains in the west. This immense territory encompassed the entirety of the Mississippi Valley, a land of fertile plains and meandering rivers, extending from the frigid lakes of the north down to the sun-baked "Tierras Calientes" (hot lands) of Mexico in the far south.
It is difficult, even now, to fully grasp the sheer scale of the buffalo populations that once thundered across the Great Plains. Those who witnessed these immense herds describe them as being as numerous as grains of sand on a seashore, an endless sea of dark, shaggy forms grazing upon the seemingly boundless natural pastures. The very notion that such a prolific species could be driven to the brink of extinction seems almost incomprehensible.
Looking back a mere quarter of a century from when this was written, one can recall the buffalo roaming in substantial numbers as far east as Fort Harker, situated in the heart of central Kansas, a distance of just over 200 miles from the mighty Missouri River. The question then arises, "Have they all truly disappeared?" It’s a haunting query that underscores the tragic swiftness of their decline.
To comprehend the magnitude of the buffalo slaughter that occurred between 1868 and 1881, a mere thirteen-year span, one must consider the economic forces at play. During this period, the buffalo were hunted indiscriminately, primarily for their hides, which fueled a growing commercial market. In Kansas alone, a staggering $2,500,000 was disbursed for buffalo bones gathered from the prairies. These skeletal remains were then processed by carbon works, with a significant portion being shipped to St. Louis for industrial use.
Approximately 100 buffalo carcasses were needed to yield a single ton of bones, with an average price of $8,000 per ton. Thus, the aforementioned sum of $2,500,000 represents the skeletal remains of over 31,000,000 buffalo. These figures may seem outlandish to those unfamiliar with the landscapes of the Great Plains a third of a century ago. However, for those who witnessed the prairies stretching from horizon to horizon, blackened by the sheer mass of these shaggy beasts, the numbers ring with a somber truth.
In the autumn of 1868, I rode alongside Generals Sheridan, Custer, Sully, and other military figures, traversing a continuous herd of buffalo for three consecutive days. This single herd must have numbered in the millions. Similarly, in the spring of 1869, the Kansas Pacific Railroad train was delayed for eight hours, from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon, by an immense herd of buffalo crossing the tracks between Fort Harker and Fort Hays. The plains stretched out on either side, a vast panorama limited only by the horizon, and this entire expanse was teeming with the surging mass of frightened buffalo, relentlessly driven southward. The sheer density of the plight of the buffalo during that era is difficult to imagine today.
The year 1868 marked a turning point. The Union Pacific Railroad and its Kansas branch were nearing completion, stretching across the plains towards the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, the westernmost boundary of the buffalo’s range. This year witnessed the commencement of a large-scale, often wanton, slaughter of these magnificent ruminants, a devastation that would continue for seventeen years, culminating in their near-extinction.
The causes of this hecatomb, this massive sacrifice of animals on the Great Plains, were twofold. First, there was the influx of professional hunters, drawn to the region by the lucrative trade in buffalo hides. Second, there was the surge of tourists crossing the continent, seeking novelty and excitement. This latter group often engaged in senseless killing, firing upon the buffalo from the slow-moving trains simply for the thrill of it, rarely utilizing the meat or even claiming a single robe. The former group, however, was far more systematic. Comprising hundreds of seasoned frontiersmen, all skilled marksmen, along with thousands of inexperienced novices, the pioneer settlers who had recently arrived on the newly opened public domain, they relentlessly hunted the buffalo for their robes. The plight of the buffalo was exacerbated by this relentless pursuit, fueled by a burgeoning national market for their hides.
On either side of the railroad tracks that bisected Kansas and Nebraska, for a considerable distance and nearly their entire length, the most ubiquitous sights were the desiccated carcasses of these noble creatures, ruthlessly slain by thoughtless passengers en route across the continent. Even far from the established routes of travel, deep within the open prairie, one could traverse entire days walking upon the decaying bodies of buffalo killed by hide-hunters, never needing to step onto the ground.
The most prized robes, renowned for their thickness and lustrous fur, were those harvested during the winter months, particularly in February, when the animals reached their peak of density and beauty. Despite the unpredictable and often extreme temperature fluctuations characteristic of the mid-continental climate, the seasoned hunters were especially active during this period, willing to brave considerable risks to secure as many of these coveted skins as possible.
A temporary camp would be established, often nestled within the shelter of a timbered stream. From this base, the hunters would venture out each morning, returning at night after a day of arduous labor to share stories and smoke pipes around a crackling fire.
However, the unpredictable nature of the plains could turn deadly. A blizzard, sweeping down from the north with little to no warning, could transform the landscape in mere seconds. The air, thick with blinding snow, would render it impossible to navigate, and any attempt to find shelter would likely result in a disoriented, circular march across the prairie. In such situations, survival often depended on desperate measures. To avoid succumbing to the intense cold, hunters would kill a buffalo, remove its internal organs, and crawl inside the massive cavity, relying on the residual animal heat to sustain them until the storm subsided sufficiently for them to safely return to camp. Such tales are a testament to the harsh realities faced by those who hunted the buffalo, contributing to the plight of the buffalo.
In early March 1867, a group of my friends, all experienced buffalo hunters, were camped in Paradise Valley, a well-known rendezvous for the animals they sought. One day, while they were scattered across the range, stalking their prey, a fierce blizzard descended upon them. Three of the hunters managed to reach the camp without significant difficulty, but one, who was furthest away, was caught squarely in the storm’s fury. As night fell, he was forced to resort to the survival method described earlier. Fortunately, he soon encountered an old, weakened bull that had been abandoned by the herd. He killed the bull, removed its entrails, and crawled inside the empty carcass, finding relative comfort until morning broke, the storm had passed, and the sun shone brightly. However, when he attempted to escape his makeshift shelter, he discovered that the immense ribs of the creature had frozen together, trapping him as securely as if he were confined within a cell. Luckily, his companions, who were searching for him and firing their rifles periodically, heard his cries in response to the gunshots and were able to locate and free him from his peculiar predicament. The plight of the buffalo also brought about hardships for those who hunted them.
At another time, several years before the United States acquired New Mexico, two seasoned trappers were hunting buffalo far up the Arkansas River, near the Santa Fe Trail, in the foothills. As often happens, they became separated. After an hour or two, one of them killed a fat young cow and, leaving his rifle on the ground, began to skin it. While engrossed in his work, he suddenly heard a suppressed snort directly behind him. Turning around in alarm, he saw a monstrous grizzly bear ambling towards him in its characteristic gait, only a few feet away.
Just a short distance ahead, there happened to be a cluster of stunted pines. He instinctively bolted towards them, scrambling into the tallest tree with remarkable speed. The bear then proceeded to enjoy a hearty meal from the succulent hams of the buffalo cow, a providential windfall. Once satiated, instead of departing, the bear simply stretched out beside the half-devoured carcass and fell asleep, keeping one eye fixed on the movements of the unfortunate hunter stranded in the tree. Later that evening, his partner arrived at the scene and killed the impudent bear, which, weighed down by tender buffalo meat, was sluggish and unwary, making it an easy target for the unerring rifle. When the reluctant prisoner finally descended from his perch in the pine tree, he was understandably sheepish. The last time I saw him, he told me he still had the bear’s hide, which he treasured as a reminder of his foolishness in separating himself from his rifle, a mistake he had never repeated.
The accounts continue with tales of Kit Carson, Buffalo Bill Cody, and others, illustrating the dangers, challenges, and sometimes even humorous situations that arose from encounters with the buffalo. The narratives highlight the animal’s strength, unpredictable behavior, and importance to both Native Americans and early settlers.
The eventual near-extinction of the buffalo had a devastating impact on the Plains Indians, whose lives were intrinsically linked to the animal. By 1900, only approximately 300 buffalo remained in the United States. This stark reality drastically altered the way of life for the Plains Indians, depriving them of their primary source of food, clothing, and shelter. In 1902, a small herd of 41 captive and wild bison was placed under government protection in Yellowstone National Park. These animals formed the foundation of the herd that exists today.
Thankfully, conservation efforts have reversed the trend, and buffalo now inhabit wilderness areas and reservations. While they will likely never return to their former numbers, roaming freely across the majestic plains, the hope remains that humanity will learn from past mistakes and safeguard these iconic animals from extinction, forever aware of the plight of the buffalo.
Compiled and edited by Kathy Alexander/Legends of America, updated May 2024.
(Note: The text has been edited for clarity and ease for the modern reader. Henry Inman was well known both as an officer in the U.S. Army and an author dealing with subjects of the Western plains.)