The Bison - Part three

By Dan R. Conway

(Originally printed in the Hysham Echo

on February 24, 1927)

(Cont. from last week)

Was Sacred to Indians

To the Indian, the bison was sacred. The passing of the animal spelled disaster to all plains tribesmen, for it furnished everything, practically, that the Indian needed to live. The hide was dressed by the Indians in various ways, each special treatment having its own particular purposes. Catlin has very ably set forth the different methods of hide dressing employed by the several plains tribes. Butchering and hide dressing were almost always the work of the squaws, and in most cases, these native women became very adept in the practice of this art. Catlin states that of all the Indian nations, the Crows were most expert in the dressing and tanning of buffalo and elk hides. He describes some of the skins prepared by these people as having been dressed until they were snow-white. Fur traders were always jealous of the Crow trade because these robes and furs generally brought greater sums on the eastern fur market.

The lodge of the Indian, his bed, his covering when sleeping, his clothing, his weapons of war, his shield in battle, the kettles in which he cooked his meat and the parfleches in which he stored his pemmican and dried meats, the bull-boars he used on the rivers, the leather for his saddle and thong, the strings for his quirt and bow, hair for his dress and ornaments - all these and many other articles were made from the buffalo robe. The bones of the bison, from the short, curved, strong horns to the hoofs were manufactured, by crude yet expert practices, into an endless variety of articles which entered into every phase of the domestic life of the native tribesman.

The Indians as Hunters

Twice every year the Indians sallied forth on their spring and autumn hunts. Throughout the western plains area, certain favorite feeding grounds of the buffalo were held in possession as hunting grounds through many years by one tribe, and the right to hunt in that particular region was defended to the death. That of the central Montana plains region was dominated by the Blackfeet nation. In those days, the chase not infrequently ended in savage warfare. Not only did the buffalo cause hostilities among tribes, but incidents have been recorded which prove that they also caused internal strife. There has been handed down by the older chiefs a legend which says that the Assiniboines (or Sioux of the Mountains), separated from the plains Sioux, which constituted the main body or tribe of that nation, because of a dispute which arose between the squaws of two rival chiefs, each of whom insisted upon having as her portion, the entire tongue of a fine cow that had been slain in a chase. Thus began a feud which split the Sioux nation into independent, antagonistic tribes. Chief Clear Face of the Crows has also related a legend which tells of the separation of the Crows and the Minnataries. He told how, after a long famine, the Minnataree hunters had run down and killed some buffalo, and they refused to share this meat with their starving brother tribesmen. This is said to have happened in the region of the North Platte valley in Nebraska, and that from there the Minnataries journeyed to their new home on the upper Missouri, while the Crows sought out the rich lands of the Big Horn country in what is now southeastern Montana.

The natives employed different methods in hunting the bison, each of these according to the custom or practice which had been established by their forebears.

The “Buffalo Run”

Let us turn back the years about a century and follow, if we can, the native redman as he sallies forth in pursuit of the animal which gave him his livelihood.

Along Two Medicine river, on the eastern slopes of what is now known as Glacier National park, the Piegans have just completed their spring medicine ceremony, and the hunters are taking leave to keep vigilance for the approach of the buffalo herds. We follow them. Trailing down the verdant valley through its green parks and past its clustered groves of birch and quaking asp, we find our progress, at times, almost completely arrested by hundreds of acres of undergrowth, so closely woven and interlocked together as to dispute our progress. Amongst these and in patches are the intervening beds of wild rose, wild currant and gooseberry bushes, and underneath and about them, and occasionally interlocked with them, huge masses of prickly pears, and beautiful and tempting wild flowers that sweeten the atmosphere above.

Abruptly we leave the forest’s confines; and, out over a little rise, and beyond stretch the green, rolling foothills that mark the border of the endless plains. We halt, while watchers secure a secluded spot to the leeward of bison trails and await the approach of the horde’s vanguard.

“Buffalo come!”

Presently the dropping of a robe is the signal given which we relay back to the camp, that “buffalo come!” Scouts remain to watch the herd, while we hurry back to camp to witness the “buffalo dance.” This weird ceremony ended, the atmosphere changes from religion to bustle and boasting to the twang of bows and the shout of hunters. Every face and every eye radiates expectation and the joy of “the run.” Then, as the march begins, all is quiet as death - not a sound, lest some unnecessary commotion stampede the quarry. In the lead is the gifted man - “the caller of the buffalo.”

Our course this time takes us in a different course, and finally we emerge out upon a nearly level rise, which slopes eastward along the valley of the Cut Bank river to the open plains. To the northwest it narrows and ends abruptly at a sheer drop of some thirty to fifty feet.

Stretching out in “V” shape from this bluff are two rows of large boulders, of a size that back of which a man may conceal himself from view. This is the “buffalo run.” Some distance from these we halt, dismount and proceed cautiously on foot, lining up along either row of boulders.

Far out, and down the valley, we can see the herd of buffalo, possibly two or three hundred head, not in the last apprehensive of impending danger, some of them grazing, some lying down, others of the old bulls standing with lowered heads half asleep in the bright sun.

The “Caller of Buffalo”

Presently the “caller” (a brave whose medicine has favored him with the “gift” for calling buffalo), lying stretched out on his horse’s back, covers himself with a heavy buffalo robe, and moves slowly and noiselessly toward the herd. He creeps along until suddenly some of the older bulls raise their heads and stare at him. His disguise, however, is so complete that the animals conclude he is but one of them. Nearer and hearer to the quarry he approaches, while our hearts beat aloud in anticipation of that which is about to happen. We watch him. He makes his horse kick and plunge a few bounds at a time, while he calls his weird call.

The leaders of the herd again raise their heads, start, and then stop suddenly. All spring to their feet, and soon some of the cows commence to follow this mysterious caller, who turns and heads straight for the mouth of the “V”-shaped boulder piles. At first he walks; then he trots; and finally he lets out into a swifter lope. The whole herd follows him in a wild rush to overtake what appears to be one of their own kind in dire distress. Perhaps they may have thought it was a cow defending her calf from the wolves.

A Stampede to Death

The caller increases his speed on down between the rocks toward the cliff. As soon as the herd has reached the outer piles, we, and all the others who are concealed behind the boulders rise and wave our robes. This, terrorizing the animals, forces them to crowd closer and closer upon the heels of the ones in the lead. The caller has dodged to the side, and the entire herd of bison is stampeded over the cliff in one gruesome pile of broken bones and torn flesh upon the creek bank below.

Finally, all is over. We return to camp and prepare for the feast. The squaws prepare the meat, and with the aid of the young boys of the camp, it, and all the hides are placed on the backs of ponies and brought to camp. We feast on tongue and choice morsels, we experience with the Piegans their sound thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for aiding in the kill.

Dressing the Hides

Then it is our good fortune to watch these Piegan squaws as they clean and dress the hides, preparatory to manufacture into tepee cover, clothing, shield, etc.

Catlin has told us, and it is true, that the art of dressing skins belongs to the Indians. As we watch her, the squaw unfolds the heavy hide and smooths it out upon the ground. Then on hands and knees, with sharp bone or prized piece of obsidian, she scrapes away all the flesh that has clung to the skin’s surface. If the hair is to remain upon it, the hide is then stretched upon the ground by pins driven into the ground. There it is left to partially dry in the sun. When it is almost dry, it is loosened and all are piled and bundled to be transported to the Hudson’s Bay company’s post, where they are traded for beads, cloth, trinkets, guns and ammunition.

If the hair is to be taken off and the hide dressed for use in making lodge coverings, moccasins, clothing, shields, etc., the hide is immersed for a few days in a lye from ashes and water, until the hair can be removed. Then it is stretched taut upon a frame upon the ground, with stakes driven through the edges into the earth. Here is remains for several days with the brains of the buffalo spread over it. Then it is “grained” (as the squaws term it). In this process they use a sharpened bone, the shoulder blade or other large bone of the animal, sharpened at an edge somewhat like an adze, with the end of which they scrape the fleshy part of the skin, bearing on it with the weight of their bodies, thereby softening and drying the skin and fitting it for use making if pliable. Print this post