The Buzby Family -- An Alaska Pioneer Family
Early Days in Montana - page 6A man, Gifford by name, coming to Fallon from the Black Hills across country reported plenty of Buffalo eight miles south of the Yellowstone. We decided to pull for that part of the country, our luck not having been the best on the north side. Two other outfits accompanied us. We found the buffalo alright, also a good sod and log cabin which had been built the year before. The other outfits went into camp a few miles distant, this being most satisfactory to us for in those days the country was rather of a dangerous character. Indians were very plentiful. They had great respect for the "buffalo guns" and seldom molested the hunters even when they would attack a wagon train, for they were aware the hunters were always on guard and had plenty of ammunition constantly on hand - also that one buffalo man was sure to kill several Indians - the game was too dear unless of course the odds were great against the hunter. "In numbers, therefore, was safety." A small bit of excitement came my way that winter. A few days after we began killing I took an ax and my rifle and walked down a draw about a mile from camp to cut some dry cedar wood that stood in the bottom, with a steep shale ridge on the south side - some of the trees were more than two feet in diameter at the base but not over ninety five feet in height. They had been dead five years and made excellent fuel. Monty started for [the far side] of a high hill. I heard him shoot a few times after I begun chopping. Thirty minutes after the last shot I heard a muffled roar and listening for the cause became aware that the Buffalo were pouring down the steep hillside. I had placed near a large sound tree close by. I grabbed the gun and hugged that tree for dear life yelling at the top of my lungs for all that I was worth. There were between 300 and 400 buffalo all pouring over that hill in a bunch, crowding each other as they came and actually shook the tree I was behind. I tho't that it was all off with me - but the tree stood and in a few minutes they had passed and were gone. Some of the smaller trees were broken short off at the ground. I could in no position to shoot without being knocked down and trampled and chances are would have done no good. Some of the animals scented me and snorted so that as they passed I felt their hot breath. It was indeed a close shave and left me rather a weak pair of knees. I didn't care for any more wood at that time, believe me, so went back to camp none too slowly. Monty came in shortly afterward, said the buffalo stampeded but he had no idea how near they came to tramping my light out. |