11

The Hunt of the Bison

The late lamented "texas Jack" gave the following laconic, yet realistic description of this exciting sport in Wilke's Spirit, March 26, 1877:
Fort McPherson, Neb, March 1, 1877,

Dear Spirit: My old friends W.D. Cody ("Buffaulo Bill") and Major North, paid me a visit the other evening, having returned from a successful hunting trip. The camo fire "tete de tete" remidned me of my first buffalo hunt with Indians. If I don't get like the butcher;s calf and "kind o" give out," I'll try and give you an idea of one of the most exciting scenes I ever saw or read of, not excepting my school boy impression of Andy Jackson's hoo-do at New Orleans. I thought I had seen fun in a Texas cattle stampede, been astonished in a mustang chase: but it wasn't a marker, and it made me believe that Methuselah was right when he suggested that the oldest could "live and learn." It is a pity the old man didn't stick it out. He could have enjoyed this lesson.
A few years ago I was deputized United States Agent, under Major North, to accompany a party of Pawnee and Ponca Indians. Although "blanket Indians" (living wild), they have for a long time been friends of the Government, and jave done excellent service under command of the justly celebrated Major Frank North, whose famed Pawnee scouts (now at Sidney, Neb) have always been terror to the Sioux nation. Owing to their hatred of each other, it is necessary to send an agent with them to prevent "picnics," and also to settle disputes with the white hunters. As Major North was in poor health at that time, this delicate task fell to me.
As I don't like to be long winded, I'll pass over the scenes and incidents of wild Indian camp life. the magnificent sight of a moving village of "nature's childrend," looking like a long rainbow in the bright colors of their blankets, bends, feathers, war paint, etc, etc, as it would form a full chapter, and skip an eleven days march from the Loup River, Reservation to Plum Creek, on the North Platte, where our runners reported.
Early in the evening, as we were about making camp, my old friend, Baptise, the interpreter joyfully remarked: "Jack, the blanket is up three times-- fun and fresh meat tomorrow,"
There was a great powwow-ing that night and all the warriors were to turn out for the grand "buffalo sorround," leaving the squaws and paposes in the village.
Just before daybreak, there was a general stil and bustle on all sides, giving evidence of the complete preparations making for the coming events. As it was dark, and busied in arranging my own outfit, thinking of the grand sight soon