Yellowstone

Wild Buffalo Wild Bison

Before: **Protection of the Yellowstone National Park The first regular expedition to enter the region now embraced within the limits of the National Park was the Washburn party of 1870, In the summer of 1871 two parties— one under Captain J. W. Barlow, U. S. Engineers, and the other under Dr. F. V. Hayden, U. S. Geological Survey—made pretty thorough ‘ scientific explorations of the whole area. As a result of the reports made by these two parties, and largely through the influence of Dr. Hayden, the organic act of March 1, 1872, was passed, setting aside a certain designated “tract of land as a public park or pleasure ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people.” It further provided that this Park should be “under the exclusive control of the Secretary of the Interior, whose duty it ‘shall be, as soon as practicable, to make and publish such rules and regulations as he may deem necessary or proper for the care and management of the same. Such regulations shall provide for the preservation from injury or spoliation of all timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities or wonders within the Park. “He shall provide against the wanton destruction of the fish and game found within said Park, and against their capture or destruction for the purpose of merchandise or profit.

“And generally shall be authorized to take all such measures as shall be necessary or proper to fully carry out the objects or purposes of this act.”

It will be seen that “timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities and wonders” were, by the terms of the law, protected from “injury or spoliation.” The Secretary of the Interior must, by regulation, “provide against the wanton destruction of fish and game,” and against their ‘capture for the purpose of merchandise or profit.”. The Park proper includes nearly 3,600 square miles, but under the act of 1891 a timber reserve was set aside, adding about twenty-five miles on the east and about eight on the south, making the total area nearly 5,600 square miles, By an order of the Secretary of the Interior, dated April 14, 1891, this addition was placed under the control of the Acting Superintendent of the Park, “with the same rules and regulations” as in the Park; it thus in every respect became a part of the Park itself. 

Dr. Hayden drew the Park bill from his personal observations, made in the summer of 1871. At that time the territorial lines were not run, and their exact location was not known. He consequently chose for his initial points the natural features of the ground, and made his lines meridians and parallels of latitude. His selections seem almost a work of inspiration. The north line takes in the low slopes on the north of Mt. Everts and the valley of the East Fork of Yellowstone, where the elk, deer, antelope and. mountain sheep winter by thousands; it leaves outside every foot of land adapted to agriculture; also— and this is more important than all—it passes over the rugged and inaccessible summits of the snowy range, where the hardiest vandal dare not put his shack. 

The first public park, Yellowstone, was established by an act of March 1, 1872 (17 Stat. 32).

Yellowstone National Park was established in 1872, before the surrounding area became the states of Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming. Boundary changes, made twice, added small areas to the original rectangle and altered the east boundary in 1929 to conform for most of its length to the drainage divide formed by the Absaroka Mountains. Most of the land adjacent to the boundary is administered by the U.S. Forest Service.

Nathaniel Pitt Langford : First superintendent of the Yellowstone Park.  Langford was appointed as the first superintendent of the park on May 10, 1872. He soon got the nickname National Park Langford because of his initials N.P. There was no money available to offer him a salary for this new position, so he had to make his living elsewhere. He was directed to ‘apply any money which may be received from leases to carrying out the object of the act.” This left Langford with little time to run the park, and he entered it only twice during his five years as superintendent.(1872-1877)

He never lived in the Park, never drew a salary, and never, except by reports and recommendations, did anything for its protection. In his first report he suggests that ‘wild game of all kinds be protected by law,” that trapping be prohibited, and that the timber be protected from the axman and from fires, Unfortunately, I am unable to possess myself of any of his subsequent reports; but I know that he toiled earnestly and without pay—and to no results.

Philetus Walter Norris: Second superintendent. April 18,1877, Norris became the second superintendent of Yellowstone National Park, a position he held until 1882. It was only in June 1878, however, that Congress finally approved a salary of $10,000 a year for the park’s superintendent, as well as minimal funds “to protect, preserve, and improve the Park.” Norris hired Harry Yount to control poaching and vandalism in the park, leading Yount to be considered the first National Park ranger. source

In his report for 1879 he speaks of having stopped the killing of bison, and says that other game, although “grown shy by the usually harmless fusillade of tourists,” was in “abundance for our largest parties.”

He also protected the wonders by breaking them off with ax and crowbar, and shipping them by the carload to Washington and elsewhere. His men did their best to protect the forests from fires, and with only fair success. By this report (1879)’ it seems that “‘no white men have ever spent an entire winter at the Mammoth Hot Springs”; he strongly recommended game protection, but not the prohibition of hunting. There was then but a single game superintendent, and he without authority to act. As at present, the main trouble was with the ‘Clark’s Fork” people. The regulations permitted hunting for “recreation” or ‘for food,” which would always be made to cover the object of any captured poacher.

He was succeeded by Mr. P. H. Conger on February 2, 1882, but Mr. Conger did not arrive until May 22 following, when he seems to have fallen full upon the trials and the tribulations that have beset his successors. He reported the necessity for protecting the wonders and the game, but seems to have accomplished nothing in either direction. His reports are largely made up of lists of the distinguished visitors by whose handshake he was anointed. He was relieved in plishing anything. Mr. David W. Wear was next in succession, and remained until legislated out of office in August, 1886. Nothing of value seems to have been done in these two administrations. In the sundry civil appropriation bill for 1886-87 the item for the protection and improvement of the Park was omitted. By the act of March 3, 1883, the Secretary of War was authorized, on request from the Secretary of the Interior to detail part of the army for duty in the Park, the commander of the troops to be the acting superintendent. As there was no. money appropriated to pay the old officers, they, of course, had business elsewhere. Captain Moses Harris, First Cavalry, was the first detailed under the new regime. He arrived there on August 17, 1886, and assumed control on the 2oth. From this time on things assumed a different aspect. He had the assistance of a disciplined troop of cavalry, and he used it with energy and discretion. It very soon became unsafe to trespass in the Park, winter or summer, and load upon load of confiscated property testified to the number of his captures. His reports show the heroic efforts made to prevent and extinguish fires, to prevent the defacement of the geysers and other formations, and to protect the game. In his report for 1887 he pays his respects to our enemies from ‘the northern and eastern borders”—the same hand that has continued to depredate until this day. He speaks of the “immense herds of elk that have passed the winter along the traveled road from Gardiner to Cooke City,” and he goes on to say that “but little efficient protection can be afforded to this species of game except upon the Yellowstone and its tributaries. He remained in charge until June 1, 1889, when he transferred his duties to Captain F. A. Boutelle, and in the three years of his rule he inaugurated and put in motion most of the protective measures now in use.

Captain Boutelle, in succession to Captain Harris, continued his methods, and protection prospered. Meantime, in 1889, an additional troop of cavalry was detailed for duty in the Park in the summer and had station at the Lower Geyser Basin. The principal use of this troop was in protecting the formations and the forests, but the work was well done and the foundation was laid for future efficiency. I came to the Park in February 1891, in succession to Captain Boutelle. On his departure, there was only one man left here familiar with the Park and its needs, and that was Ed. Wilson, the scout. He had been a trapper himself and was thoroughly familiar with every species of game and its haunts and habits.

He was brave as Czsar, but feared the mysterious and unseen. He preferred to operate alone by night and in storms; he knew every foot of the Park, and knew it better than any other man has yet known it; he knew its enemies and the practical direction of their enmity. He came to me one morning and reported that a man named Van Dyck was trapping beaver near Soda Butte; that he spent his days on the highest points in the neighborhood, and with a glass scanned every: approach; and that the only way to get him was to go alone, by night, and approach the position from the rear, over Specimen Mountain. To this I readily assented, and at 9 that night, in as bad a storm as I ever saw, Wilson started out for the forty-mile trip. He reached a high point near the one occupied by Van Dyck, saw him visit his traps in the twilight, and return to his camp, where at daybreak the next morning Wilson came upon him while sleeping, photographed him with his own kodak, and then awakened him and brought him to the post. But, unfortunately for the cause of Park protection, Wilson disappeared in July of that year, and his remains were found a mile from headquarters in the June following. That left me unsupported by anyone who knew the place and its foes; I was fortunate, however, in having ‘ as his successor Felix Burgess, who for more than three years has ably, bravely and intelligently performed the perilous and thankless duties of the position.

But before going on with a description of my own work in the Park, I will say a few words of my predecessors, In looking over the list, I think I can, without disparagement of the rest, single out three for especial mention.

Langford was an explorer and pioneer; by his writings, he made the Park known to this country and to the whole world. He was an enthusiast and his enthusiasm was contagious. Protection was not yet needed, but a knowledge of the place was, and to this he largely contributed. He was the proper man and he came at the proper time.

Next came Major Norris. To him protection was a minor or unconsidered subject. His “usually harmless fusillade of tourists” reminds one of Paddy’s remark to his master: “Did I hit the deer, Pat?” ‘No, my lord, but you made him l’ave the place.” For his time he was exactly suited; he penetrated every remote nook and corner; built roads, blazed trails, and in general made accessible all the wonders written of and described by Mr. Langford. Protection was not yet due, but it was on the road and close at hand.

For this part of the work Major Harris was an ideal selection, and he came none too soon. Austere, correct, unyielding, he was a terror to evil doers. And, after all, is there anything more disagreeable than a man who is always right? I believe Major Harris was always sure he was right before he acted, and then no fear of consequences deterred him. He once arrested a man for defacing the formations at the Upper Basin. The man confessed that he had done it, but that it was a small offense, and that if put out of the Park for it he would publish the Major in all the Montana papers. He was put out, and the Major was vilified in a manner with which I am personally very familiar. The next year this same man was sent to the penitentiary for one year for “‘holding up” one of the Park coaches in the Gardiner Cafion. In 1891 I derived great assistance in the protection of the wonders and the forests from Captain Edwards, who, with his troop, had served in the Park before. Unfortunately ‘ he had to leave in the autumn, and I was again left alone with my ignorance and my good intentions.

In May, 1892, Troop D of the Sixth Cavalry was sent to my assistance. Captain Scott was in command, and he has remained until the present time. Hard as iron, tireless and fearless, he has been an invaluable assistant in all that pertains to Park protection.

In protecting the beauties and wonders of the Park from vandalism, the main things to be contended against were the propensities of women to gather “specimens,” and of men to advertise their folly by writing their names on everything beautiful within their reach. Small squads of soldiers were put on guard at each of the geyser basins, and at other points where protection was needful, with orders to arrest and threaten with expulsion anyone found breaking off or gathering specimens. Only a few examples were needed to materially diminish this evil. Of course, it still continued in small degree, but those who indulged in it had to be at great pains to conceal their operations, and this of itself greatly reduced the destruction: I personally engaged in a long controversy with a reverend despoiler, whom I detected in the act of breaking off a specimen. A large part of his defense was that, as I had on no uniform, he did not know it was necessary to be watchful and careful in my presence.

The names of the vain glared at one from every bit of formation, and from every place where the ingenuity of vanity could place them, Primarily I ordered that every man found writing his name on the formations should be sent back and made to erase it. I once sent a man from the Mammoth Springs and once a man from the Cafion to the Upper Basin to scrub his autograph from the rocks; and one morning a callow youth from the West was aroused at 6:30 a.M. at the Fountain Hotel and taken, with brush and soap, to the Fountain Geyser, there to obliterate the supposed imperishable monument of his folly. His parents, who were present, were delighted with the judgment: awarded him, and his fellow tourists by their taunts and gibes covered him with confusion as with a garment. But, notwithstanding the sharpest watch and greatest care, new names were constantly being added, and they could not easily be detected from the old ones on account of the number of names already there. So, in the early part of the season of 1892, with hammer and chisel, where necessary, the old names were erased and we started even with the world, and the geyser basins are practically free from this disfigurement today. The remedy was heroic and successful, as such remedies usually are.

The protection of the forests— perhaps of more material importance than any other form of Park protection—became a subject of study, care, and attention. As a rule, fires originated in one of three ways: by carelessly left campfires, by lightning, or by the rubbing together of two trees swayed by the wind. There is no way of preventing the last two forms of ignition; the only thing to be done is to keep a ceaseless watch, and, so far as practicable, prevent the fire from spreading. The extensive areas burned over in days evidently prior to the advent of white men make it very apparent that these two agencies of destruction were then at work, as it is certain they have been since. Camping parties are many of them from cities, and they know little, and care less, about the devastation a forest fire may create. They leave a small and apparently harmless bunch of coals where their campfire was; after they have passed on, a wind springs up, fans the embers into flame, the dry pine needles are kindled, and at once the forest is ablaze, and no power on earth can put it out. When once the flame reaches the tree tops, if the wind be strong, a man on horseback can scarce escape before it. As the wind ceases the fire quiets down, only to spring up again next day on the appearance of the afternoon breeze. The only time to fight the fire is when the wind has gone down and the flames have ceased. Then water poured on smouldering logs, earth thrown on unextinguished stumps, and the clearing of a path before the line of fire in the carpet of pine needles are the effective means of extinguishment. After a fire is once got under control it is no unusual thing for it to reappear 500 yards from any of its previous lines, carried there as a spark through the air, and dropped in the resinous tinder ever ready to receive and spread it. 

As a last heading of my subject I shall touch on the protection of the game. This was never seriously attempted until Major Harris came to the Park, in 1886; but he attacked it with an earnestness and a fearlessness that has left a lasting impress. It is not probable that the Park is the natural home of bison, elk or deer, yet the last remnant of the first and great numbers of the last two are found here. The high altitude, great cold, and extreme depth of snow make it a forbidding habitat for the ruminants. They remain here simply because they are protected. Protection was given by a system of scouting extended over the best game ranges, and throughout the season of probable game destruction. A good many captures were made; the poachers were turned loose and their property confiscated; this was all the law allowed. The depredating element of the community soon came to care very little for this menace to’ their business, for they entered the Park with an equipment that was hardly worth packing into the post, and, if taken from them, occasioned but small loss.

The accumulation of this sort of property had become great, and, as I had no proper storage room for it, I began my work by making a bonfire of it. A first requisite to successful work was to become acquainted with the names, the haunts and the habits of those whom it was necessary to watch or to capture. Ed. Wilson was thoroughly familiar with all this, and many is the lesson I patiently took from him. He described to me the leaders among the poachers from the several regions —Cooke, Henry’s Lake, Jackson’s Lake and ‘Gardiner. To begin with the Cooke City parties, he named to me three as particularly active and dangerous: these were Van Dyck, _ Pendleton and Howell. Van Dyck, he told me, was at that time trapping beaver near Soda Butte, but he had not been able to definitely locate him. He made two trips there through cold and storm, but to no purpose. Finally, on his third expedition, he caught him, as already stated, sleeping in his bed. His property was destroyed, and he was held in the guard house awaiting the instructions of the Secretary of the Interior, which for some reason were very slow in coming. At last he was released, and ordered never again to cross the Park boundary without permission.

The next year Pendleton made a trip in the Park in early May, and got out with two young bison calves, which he was carrying on pack animals in beer boxes. Of course, they died before he got them to a place where he could raise them in safety, and he soon started back to renew his evil work. He was arrested and confined, and his case took exactly the same course as Van Dyck’s had taken.

The last of the trio was Ed. Howell. Knowing of him and his habits, I kept him as well under watch as possible. During a trip I made to the east side of the Park in October 1893, I saw many old signs of bison in several localities. Howell having disappeared from public view for a month or two, I sent Burgess out in January 1894, with orders to carefully scout this country. I indicated to him exactly where I expected him to find signs of the marauder. He encountered very severe weather, and was not able to make a full tour of the places indicated, but he did report having found, in the exact locality I had designated to him, tracks of a man on s&zs drawing a toboggan. These tracks were old and could not be followed, but they formed a valuable clue. I next sent to the Soda Butte station and had a thorough search made near that place. It was found that the same tracks had passed over the hill behind the station, going toward Cooke. Careful inquiry developed the fact that Howell had come in for provisions with his equipment, but that he had not brought any trophies with him. Calculating the time when he should be due again in the bison country, I gave Burgess an order to repeat his trip there, and stay until he brought back results. He left the Lake Hotel in a severe storm on March 11th, and camped the night of the 12th where he had seen the tracks on his previous visit. Next morning, when scarcely out of camp, he found a cache of six bison scalps suspended in a tree. The ski tracks near by were old, and he was not able to follow them. He possessed himself of the spoils and started down Astringent Creek toward Pelican. When near the latter stream, he found a lodge, evidently occupied at the time, and the tracks near it, fresh and distinct, pointing to the southward. Soon he heard shots, and far off in the distance he espied the culprit in the act of killing more of the game. The problem then arose as to how he was to make the capture. With him was only a single soldier, and the two had for arms only a .38 caliber revolver. It was certain that this was Howell, and it was known that he was a desperate character.

In giving Burgess his orders, I had told him that I did not send him to his death—that I did not want him to take risks or serious chances; I impressed upon him the fact that; as far as Howell was concerned, even if times were hard, the wages of sin had not been reduced. All this he knew well, but there was a desperate criminal armed with a rifle; as for himself, he might as well have been unarmed, However, fortune favored him, and soon Howell became so occupied in removing the scalp from one of his bison that Burgess, by a swift and silent run, approached within four or five yards of him undiscovered. It would have been easy enough to kill him then, but it was too much like cold-blooded murder to do so at that range; at 200 or 300 yards it would have seemed entirely different. Howell’s rifle was leaning against a buffalo’s carcass a few yards from him. He made a step toward it, when Burgess told him to stop or he would shoot. Howell then turned back and said, “All right, but you would never have got me if I had seen you sooner.” He was found surrounded by the bodies of seven bison freshly killed, and, to illustrate more fully the wanton nature of the man, of the eight scalps brought in to the post, six were cows and one of the others was a yearling calf.

His case went through the same course as the others, and finally, toward the last of April, he was turned loose, with orders to quit the Park and never return. He, however, is cast in a different mold from some of the previous captures, and sometime in July, he reappeared with the most brazen and shameless effrontery. He was re-incarcerated, tried, and sentenced for disobedience of the order of expulsion. His sentence was thirty days in jail and fifty dollars fine, and this he now has under appeal. Insufficient as is Howell’s punishment, his crime has been of more service to the Park than any other event in its history; it created the greatest interest throughout the country, and led to the passage of the Park Protection Act, which was signed by the President on May 7th. A strange coincidence in the cases of Van Dyck and Howell is that both were accompanied by their faithful watchdogs, and neither dog gave a sign of the approach of the enemy, and both men swore vengeance on their faithless protectors.

The preservation of elk, deer, antelope, and the carnivora is assured. Their numbers elsewhere, their wide distribution within the Park, their relatively small commercial value, added to the danger attendant on killing them within the Park, is a sufficient protection. Moose and mountain sheep will probably increase for similar reasons, although they are less generally distributed and are of greater value to head hunters. With the bison it is different. They have entirely disappeared from all other parts of the country, and they are of sufficient money value to tempt the cupidity of the hunters and trappers who surround the Park on all sides. It is told that a fine bison head has been sold, delivered in London, for £200—nearly $1,000 in our money. A taxidermist would probably be willing to pay $200 to $500 for such a scalp) Many a hardy frontiersman, who has no sentiment for their preservation and no respect for the law, will take his chances of capture for such a sum.

For the general protection of the Park there are stationed within its lines two troops of cavalry. They are both kept at the Mammoth Hot Springs for eight months of the year, and one of them is sent to the Lower Geyser Basin during the four months of the tourist season, Small outposts are kept at Riverside on the west, Snake River on the south, Soda Butte on the northeast, and Norris near the center. Besides these a winter station has been placed in the Hayden Valley, and summer stations are kept at the Upper Basin, Thumb, Lake and Cajfion. Between these a constant stream of patrols is kept up, so that no depredator can do very much damage without detection. There is allowed but one civilian scout, who is overworked and underpaid. With all this enormous territory to guard, with all that is beautiful and valuable to protect, with the last of the bison to preserve, it would seem that this rich Government should be able to expend more than a paltry $900 per year for scouts, and more than $500 (which it receives for rentals) for the
other needs of the Park.

There are very few who appreciate the amount of work done here by the soldiers in summer and in winter, in cold and in storms, on foot, on horseback and on snowshoes—and all without murmur or word of complaint. Never before was it so well placed before the public as it was by Mr. Hough in his Forest and Stream articles summer before last. Should Congress be stirred to make a more liberal appropriation for the purpose of carrying out the provisions of the act of May 7th, to him, more than to any other man, will the credit be due.

Geo. S. Anderson

Capt. George Anderson,  Acting Superintendent of Yellowstone National Park to the Secretary of the Interior, Washington D.C.: Government 

The Yellowstone National Park Protection Act

On May 7, 1894, President Cleveland approved an Act “to protect the birds and animals in Yellowstone National Park, and to punish crimes in said Park, and for other purposes.”

This law, as finally enacted, owed much to the efforts and labor of members of the Boone and Crockett Club, who for many years had persistently struggled to induce Congress to pass such necessary legislation. The final triumph is a matter of congratulation to every sportsman interested in the protection of game, and fulfills one of the great objects sought to be attained by the foundation of the Club. While the statute, in many of its details, could readily be improved, it is still,.in its general features, sufficient to serve the purposes of its enactment. To those not conversant with the subject, the statement may seem astonishing, that from the establishment of the Park in 1872 to the passage of the Act in 1894 no law protecting either the Park, the animals or the visitors was operative within the Yellowstone Park—a region containing about 3,500 square miles, and larger than the States of Delaware and Rhode Island. This condition of affairs was frequently brought to the notice of the National Legislature, and in 1887 their attention was called to it by a startling episode. A member of Congress, Mr. Lacey, of Iowa, was a passenger in a stage which was “held up” in the Park and robbed. The highwaymen were afterward apprehended but escaped the punishment suited to their crime because of the great doubt existing as to whether any law was applicable. As to game offenses, regulations were powerless for prevention in the absence of any penalties by law to enforce them.

Congress was told, “Give us the Park; nothing more is needed than to reserve the land from public sale or settlement.” Doubtless the remoteness and isolation of the region might have been thought, at the time, sufficient to insure protection. But it was the wonderful scenery and extraordinary objects of interest in the Park which were then thought of; the forests and the game did not enter much into the consideration of the founders. And so Congress passed the Act of 1872, merely defining the limits of the Park and committing it to the keeping of the Department of the Interior, which was empowered to make rules and regulations for its control.

A great work was accomplished when Congress was persuaded to forever dedicate this marvelous region as a National Park, for the benefit of the entire country; and it was hoped and expected that Congress would, in time, supplement the organizing Act by the needful additional legislation. But this was not to be had for many years to come. For some time after the year 1872, the reservation was occasionally visited by a few adventurous spirits or Government parties on exploring éxpeditions. During that period it became the refuge of the large game which had gradually receded from the lower country before the advance of settlement and railroads. The abundance of game astonished all who beheld it. Bears, deer, elk, sheep, moose, antelope, buffalo, wolverines and many other kinds of wild beasts were collected within an area which afforded peculiar advantages to each and all. Nowhere else could such a gathering of game be found in one locality. It should be remembered that those who visited the Park in the early days we have mentioned confined their investigations to a limited portion of it. The great winter ranges and breeding grounds were almost unknown. During this period, game killing was so slight and the supply so great that restrictions, by those exercising a very uncertain authority in the reservation, were hardly pretended to be enforced.

But from about the year 1878 the depredations on the game of the Park attained alarming proportions. The number of visitors had largely increased. The skin hunter and the record hunter—twin brothers in iniquity —appeared on the scene, and their number grew from year to year. It was then that regulations and prohibitions were promulgated from the Department of the Interior, but they were known to contain only vain threats, which could be defied with impunity. And so the slaughter continued, and likewise other depredations. Learned associations, sportsmen’s associations, visitors of all lands, showered petitions upon Congress to pass some protective law. All that Congress did, however, was in 1883 to confer authority for the use of troops in the Park. This was something, and the effect of their presence was very beneficial, and insured the only protection the Park had until the present time. Congress seemed affected with an apathy which no appeals could change. The result was non-action.

Some Congressmen thought they were justified in declining to take any interest in the matter, because few, if any, of their constituents had ever visited the Park. Others thought that it should be a Wyoming or Montana affair, and should be turned over to one or the other of those then territories. A few seemed to labor under the impression that the Park was nothing but a private pleasure ground, resorted to by the wealthy class, and that it was no part of the Constitutional functions of a Republican Government to afford security to wild animals or to incur any expense therefor. These narrow views were not shared by most of the principal men in Congress; among these we had many staunch friends, including especially several who held seats in the Senate, Chief among them was Senator Vest, of Missouri, who at all times was found ready to do everything in his power to promote the welfare of the Park. Senator Manderson, of Nebraska, and many others were quite as willing. It was largely due to the gentlemen we have named that the Senate, as a body, was imbued with their views, and on all occasions recognized the important national objects to be attained by the Park, not only as a great game preserve but also as a great forest reservation of the highest economic importance.

With the assistance of some of the present members of the Boone and Crockett Club, a bill was framed which afforded in its provisions ample protection to the Park, while it added largely to its area on the south and on the east, embracing the great breeding grounds of the elk. This bill was introduced by Senator Vest. But new difficulties now arose, more serious than any hitherto encountered. By the completion of the Northern Pacific Railroad a large influx of travel set in toward the Park. It was now thought money was to be made there. Railroads through it were talked about. Mines, situated near its northern border, were said to contain untold wealth, needing only a railroad for their development. A mining camp, called Cooke City, was started, and it was urged that a railroad could reach it only by going through the Park. Corporate influences made themselves felt. The bill introduced by Senator Vest again and again, in session after session, passed the Senate. The promoters of a railroad through the Park thought they saw their opportunity, Afraid to launch their scheme of spoliation before Congress as an independent measure, they sought to attach it as a rider to the Park bill, They reasoned that those who desired the passage of that bill regarded it as so important that they would be willing to consent to its carrying a railroad rather than see all legislation on the subject dropped or defeated. The plan was well conceived but failed of execution, The friends of the bill recognized that it was wiser to leave the Park unprotected than to consent to what would be its destruction. They recognized that, once railroads were allowed within the Park, it would be a reservation only in name, and that before long the forests and the game would both disappear. They therefore refused the bait held out to them by the railroad promoters, who thereafter always blocked the passage of the Park bill. In return, they were always defeated in their own scheme. The House Committee having the protection bill in charge never failed to burden it with the railroad right of way whenever it came to them, blandly ignoring the evident fact that a railroad was not an appropriate nor a relevant feature to a law for the protection of the Park. And so it happened that the bill which had been the child of affection became an object of dread, and was denounced as bitterly as it had before been advocated by its original friends. It was thought better to have it die on the calendar than to take the risk of its adoption by the House of Representatives with the obnoxious amendment incorporated by the committee.

Apart from that amendment, it was feared the bill would not only encounter an opposition instigated by pecuniary interests but might itself fail to call to its support any counteracting influence. Those who opposed the railroad, and notably the members of the Boone and Crockett Club, who invariably appeared before the Public Lands Committee to argue against it were at the very least stigmatized as “sentimentalists,” who impeded material progress—as busybodies, who, needing nothing themselves interfered to prevent other people from obtaining what was necessary and beneficial to commerce. With practical legislators, such animadversions are frequently not lacking in force, for nothing more incurs their contempt than a measure which has not what they call a practical object, by which they mean a moneyed object. While throughout the country there was considerable general interest taken in the preservation of the Park, such influence was not sufficiently concentrated to make itself felt by Congress. The Park was everybody’s affair, and in the House of Representatives, no one could be found to take any special interest in it. And so the fight went on from year to year. In Congress, after Congress, the bill was passed in the Senate and emerged from the House Committee on Public Lands weighted down by the burden of the railroad. Secretary after Secretary of the Interior protested against this feature of the bill, and so did every officer of the Government who had any part in the administration or exploration of the Park. But their protests were without effect on the committee, which in those days seemed to regard the railroad as the most important feature of the bill.

(after much time and arguments) The friends of the Park succeeded in stopping the proposed railroad legislation, but they could accomplish nothing else in Congress. They had more success with another branch of the Government. There was a statute authorizing the President to set apart any part of the public domain as a forest reservation. Taking advantage of this, certain members of the Boone and Crockett Club saw an opportunity of substantially obtaining the enlargement of the Park which they had been vainly endeavoring to obtain from Congress. They laid the matter before General Noble, then Secretary of the Interior. He recommended to President Harrison that the tract in question should be constituted a forest reserve. This was done. In 1891 the President issued a proclamation, establishing the Yellowstone Park Forest Reserve. The Secretary afterward had the same regulations extended to the Reserve as had been put in operation in the Park. This important action was followed by further proclamations, instituting other forest reservations in different sections of the country. The Executive and its representative, the Department of the Interior, have at all times been most sympathetic and helpful in the movement for forest and game preservation. They have sternly resisted all assaults upon the Park.

The organization of the Boone and Crockett Club had been a great step toward Park protection.

For years one of the cherished objects of the Park had been the preservation of perhaps the only surviving band of buffalo. It had sought refuge in the mountains. It
was known to be on the increase and it was supposed that it would remain unmolested. Its number had been estimated as high as 500. Its habitat was a wild and rugged country, affording a seemingly secure asylum. For a long time these buffalo remained comparatively safe. In the summer it would have been of no use to
slaughter them for their heads and hides. In the winter the snow was so deep and their haunts so remote as to render it well nigh impossible to pack heads or hides
out to a market. But a desperate man was found to take desperate chances. The trouble came to the Park from the mining camp of Cooke. A notorious poacher
named Howell made it his headquarters. Its proximity to the northeast boundary of the Park made it a convenient point from which to conduct his raids and to
which he might convey his booty. If he killed even a single buffalo, and safely packed out of the Park its head or hide, he was sure of realizing a large sum. If he was
captured while making the attempt, he knew he was safe from punishment, and that there was no penalty, even if there was an offense. A less lawless man might have
indulged a flexible conscience with the idea that, as there was no punishment, there was no crime. A similar view of ethics had been indulged in by a prominent member of the gospel, who had killed game in the Park, and sought extenuation on the ground that he had not violated any law. But Howell was not a man who sought
to justify his actions; it was sufficient for him that he incurred no risk. The time he selected for his deed of destruction he thought the most propitious for covering
up his tracks. His operations were conducted in the most tempestuous weather in that most tempestuous month, March, in the year 1894. The snow then was
deepest, and Howell felt there would be little chance of interference by scouting or other parties. Eluding the guard stationed in the northern portion of the Park, on
stormy nights, he stole into the Park and built a lodge in the locality where the buffalo wintered. In it he stored his supplies, which he had conveyed on a toboggan. He
traveled on séis, the Norwegian snowshoes, ten feet long, which are generally used in the Northwestern country. This enabled him to traverse the roughest mountain range with ease and great rapidity, even in the deepest snow. Once established, the killing was an easy matter. He had only to find the buffalo where the snow was deep. The ponderous, unwieldy animals had small chance of escape from his pursuit. His quarry was soon located, and he needed no assistance to make a surround; for, while the frightened, confused beasts were plunging in the snow, in a vain attempt to extricate themselves, the butcher glided swiftly around them on his snowshoes, approaching as close as he chose. With his rapid-firing gun he slaughtered them as easily as if they had been cattle in a corral. How many he killed will never be known, The remains of many of his victims will never be found.

But while the ruffian was busiest in his bloody work, a man was speeding over the snow toward him from the south. He too was on skis. He too was a mountain man,
who thought as little of the obstacles before him as Howell did. But the object of his trip was not the buffalo, but Howell. It was human game he was pursuing. Howell
had not covered up his tracks as well as he: thought. The trailer had struck a trail which he never left till it brought him to the object of his pursuit. This man was
Burgess, the Yellowstone Park scout. He had learned of Howell’s presence in the Park, and was sent out, with the intention of apprehending him, by the energetic superintendent, Captain Anderson. He proceeded on his course as swiftly as a howling wind would permit, when he was surprised by seeing suspended from some trees
six buffalo scalps. He now felt that he was in close vicinity to the man he was hunting, and that his business had become a serious one. He knew the man who had
* done that deed was prepared to resist and commit a greater crime. But this did not deter him and he again took the trail. He had proceeded only a short distance
when he heard six shots. Hastening up a hill, he saw Howell engaged in butchering five buffalo, the victims of the six shots. Howell’s gun was resting on the body of
one of the slain animals, a few feet away from where he was engaged in removing a scalp from another of the bison. So occupied was he in his work that he did not
perceive the scout, who had emerged in plain view, and who silently glided to the weapon, and, securing it, had Howell at his mercy. The demand to throw up his
hands was the first intimation Howell had that he was not alone in the buffalo country. It must have been difficult for the scout at that moment not to forget that
ours is a Government of law, and to refrain from making as summary an end of Howell as Howell had made of the buffalo.

The poacher accepted his capture with equanimity, casually remarking that if he had seen Burgess first he never would have been captured. He was conveyed to the post headquarters. As soon as the Secretary of the Interior heard of his arrest, he ordered his discharge, as there was no law by which he could be detained or otherwise
punished. Howell was proud of his achievement and of the notoriety it gave him, boasting that he had killed altogether eighty of the bison. This statement may only have been made for the purpose of magnifying his crime and so enhancing his importance. It may, however, be true. Besides those actually known to have been slaughtered by him, the remains of thirteen other bison, it is said, have been found in the Park. It is probable they were all killed by him.

When the intelligence of what had happened reached the country, much indignation was manifested. The public, which after all did have a vague sense of pride in the Park, and a rather loose wish to see it cared for, was shocked and surprised to discover that no law existed by which the offense could be reached. They were aroused
to the knowledge that the Park was the only portion of our domain uncontrolled by law. The Boone and Crockett Club took prompt advantage of this awakened feeling
and redoubled its efforts to secure action by the National Legislature. Congress had long been deaf to the appeals of the few individuals who, year after year, endeavored to obtain a law; but now, at last, they realized that some action was really needed if they desired to save anything in the Park. Mr. Lacey, of Iowa, the gentleman whom we have mentioned as having had a practical experience of the condition of affairs in the Park, was naturally the first to take hold of the opportunity which public opinion afforded. He willingly adopted the chief jurisdictional and police features contained in the Park bill to which we have so frequently referred as repeatedly passing the Senate. He readily acquiesced in all the amendments which were proposed by members of the Boone and Crockett Club.

The Club pushed the matter vigorously. The aid of many prominent members of the House of Representatives was enlisted. Before the hostile railroad party knew of the movement, the bill was presented to the House, unanimous consent for its consideration obtained, and it was passed. In the Senate, the bill was among its friends,
and Senator Vest was again instrumental in securing its passage. The promoters of the railroad scheme thought it more prudent not to meddle with the bill in the
Senate, as they would have been certain to have encountered defeat.

The Act provides penalties and the means of enforcing them, and thus secures adequate protection. It makes the violation of any rule or regulation of the
Secretary of the Interior a misdemeanor. It prohibits the killing or capture of game or the taking of fish in an unlawful manner. It forbids transportation of game,
and for the violation of the Act or regulations, it imposes a fine not to exceed $1,000, or imprisonment not to exceed two years, or both. It also confiscates the traps,
guns, and means of transport of persons engaged in killing or capturing game. Finally, a local magistrate is appointed, with jurisdiction to try all offenders violating
the law governing the Park, and it specifies the jurisdiction over felonies committed in the Park. By a happy coincidence, the new system was inaugurated by the trial
and conviction of the first offender put on trial, and it was Howell who was the first prisoner in the dock. He had returned to the Park after the passage of the law
and was tried and convicted of violating the order of the Secretary of the Interior, by which he was expelled after he had slaughtered the buffalo.

This was retributive justice indeed. The Club had desired that the law should be extended by Congress over the Yellowstone Park Forest Reserve, but legal difficulties were encountered, so that this protection had to be deferred. It is to be hoped that in the near future this important adjunct to the Park may have the same law applied to it.
The Park is now on a solid foundation, and all that is necessary for its future welfare is the prevention of adverse legislation cutting. down its limits or authorizing
railroads within it. In the winter of 1894-95 the railroad scheme, now disguised under the form of a bill to regulate the boundaries of the Park, came up again. This was the old segregation plan. It aimed not only to cut off from the Park that valuable portion already described, embracing 367 square miles north of the Yellowstone but also to make extensive cuts in the Forest Reserve for railroad and other purposes, amounting to 640 square miles. This spoliation was not permitted. Congress seemed, at last, to be determined to support the Park intact, and the Committee of the Fifty-fourth Congress in the House having the Park legislation in charge manifested this disposition by adverse reports on all the bills to authorize railroads and on the segregation bill as well.

The Pittsburgh Commercial
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Mar 12 1872

THE YELLOWSTONE VALLEY
The Great National Park and Sanitarium

Until within the last two years, the charm of mystery has surrounded the Yellowstone river. Like the Nile, its sources were long unknown, and the nomadic tribes of Indians upon its borders were left in undisputed possession of its secrets until the surveys for the railroad through Dakota and Montana, followed by scientific exploration, brought to light the features of this peculiar region. The illustrated reports of the “Wonders of the Yellowstone” in the magazines has attracted great attention recently. And the natural spectacles of geysers of boiling water, hundreds in number, dotting a beautiful as well as picturesque landscape far grander than the Springs of Iceland, has engaged the attention of the national government. As a consequence, an area forty by forty-five miles has been set apart at the sources of the Yellowstone in Montana for a grand national park and sanitarium. Next as a result of the explorations, we hear that the Valley of the River, just below the springs, where turns east and runs for several hundred miles parallel to the Missouri River, though considerably to the South of it, will likely be the route of the Northern Pacific Railroad. This Valley is described as a fertile belt with bottoms from four to ten miles wide, now covered with the most luxuriant growth of “bunch grass,” where thousands of buffalo, deer and antelope range, and where the Crow and Sioux Indians keep thousands of horses the year round on the natural pasture. The low hills insight are frequently found covered with a fine growth of timber, though occasionally the grazing ranges breakthrough and extend for miles over the rolling country.

Evidence of mineral coal have been seen at various points, and doubtless the miner will find the same evidence of gold, silver, copper, and iron, that have marked the prospects in all the other valleys of Montana. Heretofore the hostility of the powerful Indian tribes has prevented the development of the resources of this country. The Indians are stronger in number there than elsewhere in an equal area, because, doubtless, of the natural advantages the place affords for the means of supplying a comfortable existence without any labor. The immense herds of buffalo at all times furnish a cheap market to draw upon, and the Sioux will be loth to part with any of their territory. But there are thousands of settlers arriving in the country -nearly a thousand a day in fact – and the east is becoming so much crowded but it is necessary that some new field should be opened for the surplus. The Sioux tribes, with a population of not over twenty-five thousand, must not hope much longer to monopolize so great a territory as Eastern Montana in Dakota – a region as large as all the Middle and New England States combined.

While in Montana last summer the writer was surprised to find how fertile the soil was in the extent it had been developed by a small number of miners and agriculturalists, but the reports we heard from many who accompanied the parties along the Yellowstone United in describing the resources of its Valley for grazing and agricultural purposes as superior to those already settled near Helena and the other mining towns. The Northern Pacific Railroad will doubtless land and impetus to settlement in this virgin territory that will mark a wonderful page in the history of our national progress.

T.P.R.

Juniata Sentinel and Republican
Mifflintown, Pennsylvania Dec 11 1878
YELLOWSTONE PARK

For a distance of some 30 or 40 miles from the crooked, elevated canon pass near the foot of the second canon of the Yellowstone to its gate of the mountains the lovely trail pass to Fort Ellis, the main Yellowstone and the west fork of the Gallatin run northerly, nearly parallel, and but a few miles apart. But between them towers into the snow-capped peaks 9,000 and 10,000 feet high, one of the blackest, roughest, most repellent, and most impassable basaltic mountain ranges upon the continent. While its western side towns from the lovely Gallatin valley of the Bozeman and Fort Ellis, like battlements amid the clouds, its eastern descends basaltic terraces to the enchanting Bottler Park along the Yellowstone. These terraces, With countless recent earthquake fissure rents, usually somewhat parallel with the main range and each other, often hundreds, sometimes thousands of feet deep, and no wider, with towering, rugged, often impassable walls of black, red, violets, and other sombre hued pudding stone, basalt, and lava, mingled with a scattering the dwarf pine and cedar, fringed the grassy slopes. These again, cross-furrowed by the narrow, tortuous, yawning canon , outlets of the huge hot springs, your crystal lakes and grassy cedar-fringed cliff, sheltered parks high amid eternal snows, unite to form a region of matchless, enchanting beauty and repellent horror. That countless bleaching horns and bones, and if you domesticated specimens roaming peacefully with our domestic cattle, alone attest the recent occupancy of the valley by the curly bison or mountain buffalo. But the sharp-eyed, fleet-footed antelope in the black tail along the terraced grassy slopes; the fierce wolverine and mountain lion in the dense thickets, ferocious grizzly in the rugged canon passes, speckled trout and tufted waterfowl of the lovely lakes, the stately antlered elk stocking proudly through cedar groves and secluded grassy glens, and the majestic big horn grazing leisurely from, or dashing fearlessly along the rocky battlements high amid snow and cloud, still seem as of yore, game in scenery combined, forming not for the timid pilgrim, but for the bold, experienced, cliff climbing mountaineer an earthly hunters paradise in the fabled Eden of the departed Indian warrior beyond the distant mountains. This has ever been the chosen hunting ground of Frederick Bottler, the “mighty hunter of the mountains,” (immortalized by professor Hayden’s scene of him amid his five huge antlered elk laying as they fell before his deathly rifle and the famous photograph of “The Successful Hunter,” ) and here for the past eight years we have together closed are mountain sport for the season and with uniform success. We this year, on the morning of October 9, with our saddle and pack horses past where the Scottish Earl Dun Raven killed his largest big horn and Texas Jack from a branch treetop thankfully saw his wounded grizzly demolish his Winchester instead of himself, to one of our chosen haunts seldom visited by white men, and never by Indians, deep and worn amid surrounding crags and snow. At 2 o’clock P.M. we picketed our horses (still saddled for use) in a small grassy glade and recommenced out hunt, which a Parson Murray, of Adirondack fame, would have enjoyed a month and chronicled a lifetime, both with us, soon finished.

At this ruting season of the year the huge antlered elk, when heated in the chase, cool themselves, buffalo like, in wallow beds, only more wet and muddy. While guided by the loud, peculiar, wooing elf whistle, we were cautiously approaching on of these haunts in a thicket of Pinon pines, Frederick, who was in advance, discovered an approaching grizzly, and at a distance of fifty yards gave him a mortal shot through the neck and breast, but as he charged I instantly stopped him with a bullet crashing through the brain. Three other grizzly, until then unseen, reared snorting in the thicket, but while withholding our fire for deadly aim in their expected charge, as usual when attacked, they strangely slid from sight in retreat. In trailing them, I when some distance from Frederick, brought down a very large and fine cow elf, with one bullet through the breast, two through the lungs,  and with the fourth broke her neck, a;; sent as fast as possible from a Winchester rifle. Before reaching my game, Frederick, who had meantime killed an antelope and a sheep, and becoming alarmed at my rapid firing, came up breathless to join in an expected bear fight, and only throating our game we hastened over a low ridge where Frederick had seen a herd of elk.

Scores if not hundreds of them, were laying, grazing, or gamboling, singly or in groups, for down the opposite terrace, fully a thousand feet below us, and a half mile away; a charming scene for a painter, but practically too far away for us, and without molesting them we steered for a band heard whistling nearer camp.  Having an abundance of meat, we now went for horns, and cautiously approaching, with but one ring of both rifles, brought down the largest horned bull within range, and then dashed , rifle in hand, into the herd for the loftiest antlers near the other side. There seemed about 100 of them, mainly 3 or 1 year old bulls, and as these animals do not visit the Park, probably few in any of them had ever seen a human being, for at the report of our rifles, the most of them looked hastily to the surrounding cliffs, searching for the echoes: other ran off, while some of the group around the one we had shot gazed in silent wonder at his reeling fall, spouting gore, and dying struggles. Others snorted in affright, and two, perhaps rivals for some favorite cow, charged boldly in for a free fight with a fallen foe and each other, too much occupied with their sport to notice us, until somewhat diverging from Frederick I ran up to certainly less than 50 feet when they observed me, and one of them ran off. The other, a noble 4 year old, standing nearly astride neck, and lofty antlers, seemed to momentarily expand in fierceness, to magnificent proportions, and preparations for a fearful charge, and when he with fairly bristling hair gave the fearful battle snort, his acrid hot hissing saliva nearly reached me. I have often and again heard their wooing, whistle – snorting battle challenge, and clashing horns, but never before when I was so near – most unmistakably the party challenge – utterly exposed, with no possibility of retreat, and only a bare one of a fortunate shot to drop him before transfixed by a score of antler points. During over 40 years of frontier experience, I have thankfully sought the lee side of a friendly bluff, boulder, or breakwork from a shower of hailstones or bullets, a hidden coula from a wounded bull, or a dashing herd of buffalo, a torked tree from a wounded black-tailed buck, and a low branched one, easy to climb, from a powder burned grizzly, but never before realized how terribly formidable the usually timid, but fleet, proud, lofty antlered Rocky Mountains elk could become when scenting blood, thoroughly aroused, and proudly facing the unknown biped man – belted, armed and plumed, stocking erect into his battle rain. For a moment I would have rather faced a family of snorting grizzlies, but unwisely, for, with my answering shout of mingled challenge and affright, the God – stamped fear of his degenerate image – upon nearly all animals – reached him, but all too late, for high in his first leap of retreat a rifle rang out, and his proud form and lofty antlers crashed headlong in death beside his fellow. As Fred had also brought down another, we desisted, not for want of game, but inclination for wanton slaughter. With horse and lasso we, without skinning, soon dragged our game just passed our spare horses in a little sheltered glade, to our blazing campfire beneath the sheltering branches of an ancient cedar.

The Marion Commonwealth
Marion Alabama Nov 23, 1882 
English Depredations in the Yellowstone Park.

The magnificent Yellowstone Park is in danger of being rapidly destroyed mid its natural beauties defaced by wantonness and vandalism unless the Government steps in to protect it. It is said that the first thing the English-man does after registering at the Brevoort house is to start for the Yellowstone Park and needlessly shoot down scores of its large game deer, buffalo, bears, antelope, and mountain sheep. Nor are foreigners always the chief sinners in this respect. Many of the most famous Yellowstone geysers have already been ruined by people who amuse themselves by hurling immense trunks of pine trees into them in order to see the water force them high in the air. In many cases, those logs have stuck in the water apertures and have completely stopped the spouting. In Wyoming, the people are taking steps to put a stop to such vandalism and the wholesale slaughter of buffaloes and other game by English tourists.

The Salt Lake Herald
Salt Lake City, Utah 27 Dec 1882
Yellowstone Park Lease

Washington 25 The gentleman, representing Rufus Hatch, and who propose to lease Yellowstone Park is in Hatch’s interest. The lease would have been signed by the secretary of the interior if the Vest resolution had been delayed three hours. The incorporators include prominent men in different parts of the country among them Rufus Hatch, Jno B Lyon of Chicago, Ashtel Green of New York, Roscoe Conkling end Richard Merrick. The objection to the lease comes largely from General Sheridan whose troopers in that region did more damage last summer man had ever been done before. Through negligence of their campfire, they burned over 20,000 acres of timber. The soldiers besides cut down trees and used them for battering rams to break off pieces of geyser crystals. A proposition will soon be made to Congress to pass a bill authorizing the secretary of the interior to execute the proposed lease and make of Yellowstone Park a reservation similar to the Hot Springs reservation in Arkansas which shall be governed by a commission. It has not been ascertained that Vest has withdrawn his opposition. The secretary of the interior has sent to Congress an answer to the resolution setting forth the proposed lease.

Chicago, 26. There is little or nothing in that telegram from Washington about me and the Yellowstone Park said, John B Lyon, yesterday. Mr Hatch came through the other day and told me a company was to be formed to lease and improve the place. He also asked me to become a stockholder and told me how much money I would have to put in. I told him in an indefinite way that it was all right and I would go in but I really know nothing at all about the enterprise. I suppose at least $1,000,000 will be spent on it, though I do not know whether they will or not. As to the prospects for securing a lease, I know nothing. I would be glad to give you some information on this subject if I had any, but I have not.

1883-4 (Fighting on going with Gov of Mt, Rufus Hatch, Sec. Cole, Sen. Logan and Vest, Gen. Sheridan and Sec. of the Int.)

Helena Weekly Herald
Helena, Montana Feb 7, 1884
Yellowstone Park.

Washington, February 1.—The Senate Committee on Territories have finished work upon the Yellowstone Park bill and reported with the amendments. The bill, as amended, enlarges the park thirty miles on the east side and ten miles on the south and cuts off two miles on the north and west sides. The bill contains stringent prohibitory provisions relative to killing game or taking fish within the park. The secretary of the Interior is authorized to lease small portions of ground in the park not exceeding ten acres for each tract on which may be erected hotels,  for a period not exceeding ten years, but such leases shall not include any of the geysers or other objects of curiosity or interest, or exclude the public from free and convenient approach thereto, or include any ground within one-quarter of a mile of any geysers or the Yellowstone Falls, nor shall there be leased more than one tract not exceeding ten acres to any one person, association or corporation.

The Observer
London, Greater London, England  Oct 10, 1886

(extract)

Their numbers are estimated, every little herd is known, and it is not believed that there are 500 in existence. Only recently an agent of the National Museum, after searching for several weeks, obtained only three specimens. The end must therefore be near. The Canadian Government is protecting buffaloes, so far as the preservation of a few in an enclosure can accomplish this, and in the Yellowstone National Park the little herd there is forbidden to be molested. Yet outside the limits of this reservation, the slaughterers lie in wait and knowing the price that a hide or a stuffed head commands, use every effort to drive the Government animals outside the sanctuary which has been decreed them. (read more)

The Palmyra Spectator
Palmyra, Missouri Dec 3 1886

Wholesale Butchery

(extract)

Except a few scattered bands of antelope on the plains north of the Missouri river, and the small number of black and white tail deer in the timber along the river bottoms, what little of the large game we have left in the northwest is congregated in the Yellowstone Park. Of course, there are more or less elk, mountain sheep, and deer in the mountains (Bog Horn and Rocky ranges), but they are a mere handful of what the country could boast of ten years ago. The laws of the national park forbid hunting of game within its confines, and it does indeed appear as if our big-game were cognizant of the fact, for nearly all the remaining species seen to have sought refuge there.—[Fort Keogh Cor. Cleveland Leader. (read more)

REPORT
SUPERINTENDENT OF THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

To The
SECRETARY OF THE INTERIOR
1890

WILD ANIMALS pg6

I have every reason to believe that the protection of the wild animals in the Park has been perfect. I have no reason to believe that a single animal has been destroyed. The protection of the past few years has resulted in a great increase in all of the game animals. First in importance, on account of its almost extinction, comes the buffalo. As soon as the fires of the Park would allow me to leave the traveled routes I started out in an attempt to make something of an enumeration but was not on their range two days before I became convinced that it was impossible. The animal, driven for safety, as he has been, to the mountain forests, seems to have entirely changed in his habits. In the summer season, they are broken up into small bands and scattered over a wide area of timber covered mountains. This I believe to be the result of the accidents of their lives. Probably when they first took to the forest they lost sight of each other, and in years adopted the habit of breaking up into families. In the winter the deep snows drive them to the open country for food. They are then found in large herds. This habit of dispersion and assembly seems to be very like the antelope.

As reported last year the herds of buffalo and elk do not seem to have enough calves. I am more than ever convinced that the bear and puma do a great deal of mischief and ought to be reduced in numbers. While they may be something of a curiosity to visitors to the Park, I hardly think them an agreeable surprise. Very few who come here “ have lost any bear.”

Visitors are sometimes a little incredulous as to the great number of large game animals in the Park and complain that they have seen nothing.

It is the habit of all animals which shed their antlers to seek the high points during the fly season, and while hundreds of elk and deer may be seen between the canon and the lake in the first week of June, there

are more at the end of the month. Very little expense would attend the in closing of a band of elk at some point in Swan Lake Basin and of buffalo in Hayden Valley. I am sure they can be caught without any great trouble and inclosed so that all may at least see a sample.

The Park was visited last summer by Governor Francis E. Warren, of Wyoming, who manifested so lively an interest in the preservation of the game that after his departure I ventured to address him the following letter:

CAMP SHERIDAN, Wyo., November 25, 1889.

DEAR SIR: We have, as you know, what is probably the last of the buffalo or bison left in the country. While in the Park they are comparatively safe from destruction, but, unfortunately, at certain seasons of the year, they sometimes drift down into Wyoming and become prey to the taxidermist hunter, who kills for the head. The legislature of Montana at its last session enacted a law which will probably protect those which drift into Montana, as some occasionally do.

If you think well of it will you be good enough to ask your legislature for a similar bill? I believe the penalty should, however, be not less than $500 or six months imprisonment, and when a fine can be collected one-half should go to the agent of the territory or the informer.

Unless everything possible is done this last remnant of our greatest American game will certainly be obliterated.

I have addressed a letter upon this subject to the secretary of Idaho. If both Territories will take action the Park will be as well protected by laws of the States and Territories surrounding it as by the authorities stationed within.

I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

F.A. Boutelle,

Captain First Cavalry, Acting Superintendent.

Governor FRANCIS E. WARREN.

Governor Warren took prompt action on my recommendation and the legislature of Wyoming at its last session enacted a law which, if enforced, as I believe it will be, will protect all buffalo straying off the reservation in that direction.

A similar communication was addressed to the secretary of Idaho and a reply was received saying that the governor would lay the matter before the legislature, but I have not learned that any action was taken.

Bison wintering in Hayden Valley prior to 1894.

Photo probably by John Folsom, early Canyon winter-keeper.

In 1898 the Annual Yellowstone Report by acting superintendent: James B. Erwin

“Buffalo- There are probably 50 of these animals yet in the park. They are not increasing, due to,  I believe to too much inbreeding. This is about the only wild herd in the United States, and steps should be taken to prevent the extermination of this herd from the evils of inbreeding by the purchase of a few good bulls. Full and ample protection is given these animals, and I believe that with new stock introduced into the herd, an increase would follow. “

Crimes Against Nature – Mode of Poaching and Production (extract)

While Howell’s arrest rid Yellowstone of “a notorious poacher” and helped establish a stricter enforcement policy, it did not, as Captain Anderson had initially hoped, signal the end of poaching in the preserve. Game continued to be killed in the park, not only by solitary poachers like Howell but also by organized groups of lawbreakers. The most daring and dangerous of these bands was the “merciless and persistent lot of head and skin hunters” that headquartered itself in Henry’s Lake, a small Idaho village of ninety-eight people located not far from the park’s western boundary. As one army officer put it, “[At Henry’s Lake there] lives a gang of hardy mountain pirates who make a scanty living by hunting, trapping, and fishing. … Natural poachers, they are banded together and work in concert, completely dominating the sparsely settled section, adjoining the Park, in which they live. Such skilled robbers are they and so minute their knowledge of the country that it is almost impossible to convict them.” Attempting to build on the momentum Howell’s arrest provided, Anderson soon initiated a renewed campaign against “the worst and most daring and desperate gang of poachers who ever defied the park laws and the vigilance of the authorities.”

One frequent target of the Henry’s Lake poachers was elk. After killing an elk in the park, the poachers would butcher the animal, taking only the best cut of meat (the “saddle”) back to the village with them. Once at Henry’s Lake, the poachers would box the meat or cover it in burlap and then ship it via stagecoach to nearby mining camps such as Virginia City disguised as “beef or domesticated elk.” (The McMinns’ neighbor, Dick Rock, owned a number of domesticated elk, providing a convenient cover for the steady shipments of elk meat from the village.) Another of the poachers’ favorite targets was buffalo. The risks involved in killing a buffalo in the park were such that poachers seldom took the time to butcher the animals for their meat but would smuggle the heads and hides out, as these could be sold for several hundred dollars on the trophy market. In addition, during the spring some of the residents of Henry’s Lake would try to capture buffalo calves, which they would then corral in remote locales outside the park. Once the buffalo were full grown, the poachers would arrange for the sale of the animals’ heads to one of the not overly scrupulous taxidermists with whom they did business.

The near by residents would slip letters or notes to the park authorities, letting them know what was going on. They pleaded their names be kept secret even after any arrest, for fear of their live, homes, stock, etc., being burned down or ran off. 

“What is the game warden doing?” queried one such letter.

“Is he going to let a few men kill all the elk in the Park[?] they come across the line to fead and they are killing them bye the four horse load and shiping them.”

Dick Rock of Henry’s Lake Idaho has in his possession three young Buffalo calves supposed to have been caught in the Park,” read another note, signed “A citizen.”

Stated another missive, “If you make an investigation and search about the hunters and fisherman’s cabbins about Henry Lake you will find where some of your Bison has gone to from the Y. N. Park. Believe me a true Citizen.”[

Forest & Stream Articles about Poacher Ed Howell of Yellowstone : https://www.nps.gov/yell/planyourvisit/eyforest_stream.htm

A great short article on the detailed accounts of poaching by Rick Lamplugh “The Poaching and Saving of Yellowstone Wildlife“

HISTORY 0f BISON IN YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

Book: Interagency Bison Management Plan for State of Montana and Yellowstone National Park…, Volume 1 pg 282

In 1901, 25 bison were counted in the native Yellowstone herd. Due to subsequent protection from poaching, the number of wild bison steadily increased. At the close of the 1901 session, congress appropriated $15,000 dollars to establish a new herd of bison in Yellowstone National Park. In 1902, 18 cows were received from the Allard herd in Montana and 3 bulls from the Goodnight herd in Texas. These new bison were first held in enclosures at Mammoth and then moved to the Lamar Buffalo Ranch in 1907. For a short period the herd was fenced in and managed like domestic stock. Beginning in 1910 the captive herd was allowed to graze on the open range in summer, while during winter they were fed hay produced near the Buffalo Ranch (Skinner and Alcorn 1942-1951).

During this time, the wild native herd primarily used the Mirror Plateau and upper Lamar River area in summer and primarily wintered in the Pelican Valley. As early as 1903, calves from the native herd were introduced into the captive herd. (Skinner and Alcorn 1942-1951,). Between 1915 and 1920, intermingling between the introduced and wild herds increased, and after the early 1920s, little or no effort was made to keep the two populations separate.

Department of Interior –Annual Report
Fiscal Year Ended June 30, 1902

57^th Congress 2d Session Document No. 5

Pg 461  BUFFALO.

Near the close of the last session of Congress I was called upon to submit an estimate of funds required to build a suitable inclosure and to purchase from 30 to 60 buffalo, with a view to starting a new herd of these animals in the park. The estimate submitted for this purpose amounted to $30,000. The appropriation which was made by Congress amounted to $15,000.

Mr. C. J. Jones (better known as ” Buffalo Jones”) arrived here on July 16, 1902, and in compliance with instructions from the honorable Secretary of the Interior reported to me for duty in the park as game warden. Shortly after his arrival here we proceeded on a trip through the park with a view to determining the best place on which to construct a corral or inclosure for the buffalo, and after carefully examining and considering all of the available places in the park we finally agreed upon the place which was originally suggested by myself to the honorable Secretary of the Interior as the most suitable point on which to locate the corral or inclosure.

It is situated about 1 mile from the Mammoth Hot Springs, and will afford considerable shelter and feed for the buffalo in the way of timber and grass during the winter. A fine stream of clear, cold water runs through it, and it is easy of access from this point at all times during the summer and winter. As soon as the location of the corral had been determined upon, steps were at once taken to proceed with the construction of the necessary wire fence. Proposals for the construction of the fence were solicited, but all bids received were so high that it was determined to purchase the material and set up the fence by day labor. Pending the construction of the fence, correspondence was had with all of the owners of pure-bred buffalo in the United States with a view to ascertaining at what price per head they could be secured and delivered in sound condition in the corral to be constructed.

The necessary Page woven-wire fencing was purchased, and the fence is now completed and ready to receive any buffalo that may be purchased. A contract has been entered into for the delivery in the corral of 15 cows from the Allard herd, located on the Flathead Agency in Montana, and three bulls from the Goodnight herd in Texas.

In addition to the large corral that has been constructed near the Mammoth Hot Springs, a small corral has been constructed on Pelican Creek, with a view to capturing therein the few remaining buffalo in

the park. During the past winter we succeeded in locating 22 of the, animals on the head of Pelican Creek, and there are probably a few more that we were unable to find. This herd is exceedingly wild, and

will probably never increase in size, and may possibly die out completely. It is thought that we can catch up some of the young animals of this herd during the ensuing winter, and bring them in to this point

and turn them out in the inclosure with the other buffalo that are to be purchased.

It is my opinion that if we succeed in raising a new herd of buffalo under fence they will become very tame, and when the herd is sufficiently increased in numbers we can gradually turn them loose in the

park and they will become so accustomed to seeing people about them that when turned loose they will not be frightened out of the country or driven into the high mountains by the appearance of the summer tourist.

It is considered desirable to introduce new blood in the new herd to be started in the park, and it is with this view that part of this herd purchased from the animals located on the Flathead Agency and part from the Goodnight herd in Texas.

This mixture of blood will further be increased by the capture of a few animals from the wild herd that we now have in the park. It is our intention to feed and handle the new herd of buffalo in the same manner that domestic cattle are handled in this country, and before turning them loose to brand them ” U. S.” in such a way that they can always be identified as United States property.

Since writing the above 14 buffalo cows have been received in fine condition and safely located in the inclosure built to receive them. Before turning them loose they were branded ” U. S.” on the horn, in small letters, and on the left hip in large letters, such as are used in branding Government horses.

These cows came from the Allard herd and were delivered under contract with Mr. Howard Eaton, of Medora, N. Dak.

Mr. C. J. Jones has gone to Texas for the purpose of selecting three buffalo bulls from the Goodnight herd, and they will probably be delivered in the park sometime before the end of October

The New Buffalo Herd.  1904

The increase in this herd during the past season has been very encouraging. And now consist of 39 animals and they are all in fine condition. The following table shows the yearly increase in the herd since its establishment, and also gives the number of males and females. The bull which is noted as having died, is the one which was turned out with the wild heard on Pelican Creek. He wandered away from the herd and died on the lake near the Thumb station. The cow which died broke her leg by stepping into a badger hole while running in the pasture. Every effort was made to save her, but it was impossible to do so.

RECORDS OF THE NATIONAL PARK SERVICE

Expenditures, Buffalo Corrals, Chutes, Fencing of Pastures, etc., 1907-13 (parts 1-2)

In the book “Buffalo Nation” by Valerius Geist, it states that the U.S. Army responded to the call from Roosevelt to help with the decline of buffalo on YN, by purchasing 14 cows from Pablo -Allard herd and 3 bulls from Charles Goodnight herd. “The army placed the bison into an enclosure along with some calves caught from the wild Yellowstone herd. This led to a “buffalo ranch” in the park that was run along military lines, with hay grown on irrigated meadows and some bulls being castrated and branded like cattle.”

YELLOWSTONE

The Bison of Yellowstone National Park
NPS Scientific Monograph No. 1

The Present Population

Origins

As stated previously, the Yellowstone bison of the present derive from two subspecies: plains bison from Montana (Pablo-Allard herd) and Texas (Goodnight herd), introduced in 1902, and a remnant of the original wild population of mountain bison. Skinner and Alcorn (1942-51) summarize the introduction, numbers, and subsequent management practices pertaining to the introduced herd at the Buffalo Ranch in Lamar. Population numbers are from that source and other official reports. Skinner also provides a resumé of official information concerning the wild bison, but does not attempt to evaluate the question of their survival. Information scattered in the diaries, reports, and correspondence of park personnel (Yellowstone National Park Archives) provides the basis for the following.

Before 1915, introduced bison of plains stock could not have escaped to form a wild group. The introduced herd was in a small fenced pasture at Mammoth from 1902 until moved to the Buffalo Ranch at Lamar in 1907. From 1907 until at least 1915, these animals were closely day-herded, and apparently put in a fenced pasture at night. Although one plains bull from the fenced herd was turned out in 1903, and one or two stray bulls were mentioned later in scout reports, these apparently never joined the wild bison. Twenty bulls from the Buffalo Ranch were driven 14 miles up the Lamar River in 1914; these all returned.

Members of two other small groups of semi-domestic bison, those of the Yellowstone Lake Boat Co. and some from Henry’s Lake west of the park, never mixed with the wild herd (Appendix III).

In spite of very low numbers and a pessimistic outlook, the original wild herd did persist, and gradually increased once protection from poaching was assured. The critical survival period extended from 1902 until about 1920; thereafter, groups of bison which did not frequent the Buffalo Ranch were more common. These probably contained escapees from the introduced herd as well as native animals. Table 2, from sources listed in Appendix III, shows dates, locations, and numbers for the wild herd from 1903-15. Later official estimates of wild herd numbers are not used, since there was some possibility of wild and introduced animals intermingling after 1915. The table shows clearly the presence of a remnant wild herd in Pelican Valley in winter, and on the Mirror Plateau in summer, as well as a few individuals elsewhere. There was a steady increase, indicated both by calves and by total bison seen. The known population more than doubled between 1903 and 1912. An actual count was difficult, as Nowlin (1912) of the Biological Survey found: “I have never seen buffaloes on the range so wary and difficult to locate as the wild ones in the Yellowstone Park.”

Official population estimates of the time did not allow for more animals than were actually seen; they were undoubtedly conservative. By 1912, as Nowlin’s classification of 35 animals shows, the survival of calves (8) and yearlings (7) was encouraging, and the potential for increase (13 females) was apparent. By 1915, the population may have been nearing 100. Known mortality is shown only in 1904. While winter loss probably occurred during other years, the death of many animals would surely have been observed and reported by Army patrols or scouts.

Buffalo Jones and Army Scout Holt with a captured bison calf on a sled.

Photo from Yellowstone National Park files.

Present composition

An estimate of the contribution of the two subspecies to the present population gene pool is, at best, rough but is preferable to having none. Table 3 shows the sex and adult-calf composition of the fenced herd from 1902 through 1915. The addition to this herd of four calves captured by Army scouts (Fig. 13) from the wild herd for the purpose of adding a second bloodline is also shown. From these numbers, Table 4 was compiled to show the age classes according to sex. The bulls 4 years and older were assumed to have done the breeding in this fenced situation, although younger bulls may have been physically capable. Females were assumed to breed as 2-year-olds and to calve at 3. From these assumptions and the tables, the wild strain in the fenced group was estimated at a maximum of 10% by 1910. Further dilution of the wild strain in the fenced herd was assumed until perhaps 1917.

TABLE 3. Composition of fenced herd, 1902-15

The Bison in the Yellowstone Park.—In his annual report for 1907 as Superintendent of the Yellowstone
National Park, General S. B. M. Young reports as follows on the Bison, captive and wild:
—
“The 29 Buffalo in the fenced pasture near Mammoth produced only 5 calves. One old cow in this herd died in June. The calves are hardy. This herd, with the exception of the two original old bulls, was safely conducted to the Lamar Valley on October 12 and 13, where there is superior grazing, and where they will be herded during the day time in fair weather and secured in the 600-acre pasture field during the night time and in foul weather. The grazing in the Mammoth pasture has not been excellent, and it has been necessary to feed hay to this herd all summer. The 28 Buffalo taken to the Lamar Valley in May last have not been fed hay and are in better condition than the Mammoth herd. The Lamar herd produced no calves. The united herd numbers 59 (25 males and 34 females), not including the 2 old bulls which
have been advertised for sale.

”Of the original wild Buffalo in the park signs of 6 are reported on the Madison Plateau, southwest corner of the park; 4 were reported seen in Hayden Valley, their old habitat, in August, and signs of 15 are reported on Mirror Plateau and Specimen Ridge, 10 miles south of Soda Butte. Total number estimated to be 25.”
New York, January 31, 1908. W. T. H.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle
Brooklyn, New York Mar 5 1904

BUFFALO JONES’ LECTURE.
Game Warden of the Yellowstone Tells of his Lifetime With Wild Animals

 Colonel. C. J. Jones, better known as “Buffalo Jones.” The game Warden of the Yellowstone National Park, and an author, hunter, scout and explore, delivered and interesting lecture last evening before the Men’s Club of the Church of the Pilgrims. Remsen and Henry streets. His subject was “A Lifetime With Wild Animals,” and he told of some actual experiences and thrilling adventures during his career. Colonel Jones is known as the preserver of the buffalo, and few persons are more familiar with the haunts and characteristics of North America’s wild animals. Colonel Jones includes in his topic on wild animals a reference to the American bison or buffalo, which he has been so successful in domesticating, that he drives 18 in harness and shows lantern slides of an actual photograph. Mr. Jones is known as the originator of a new race of animals known as the catalo, of which he showed several views. The idea of infusing the blood of some of the Hardy buffaloes into the American cattle struck him one day, and after many disappointments he finally accomplished the purpose and name the cross catalo, cat, from cattle, and also from buffalo. His trip into the arctic regions in search of the musk ox was in interestingly described.

The study of animal life and lore is so simple, said Colonel Jones, that one can almost understand what some of the animals are saying. Animals have instincts and they require little or no teaching from their mother, but the mountain lioness teaches her cubs to step in the exact tracks made by the dogs and by her, so that when the hunter comes across several tracks in each direction he is almost sure to be confused, unless he knows something about the characteristics and instincts of the mountain lion. He showed a magnificent picture of an American rattlesnake, the most dangerous pest in the rugged West. He said he and his partner had discovered that the buffalo has fourteen ribs on each side, where as all other animals of the same family have twenty-six.

“They are the most nimble animals I have ever seen, as far as their hind legs are concerned,” said Colonel Jones, “and I never saw a mule who could fan the air faster than the American bison “ when Colonel Jones went into North Canada in search of the musk ox, he said the Indian natives objected to having any of these rare specimens taken from their territory, as it was their believe that all other animals would follow. “They believe the musk ox is God of all animals,” declared the lecturer.

“I often wished I could go off on an old-fashioned wolf hunt in Russia or Siberia, as you all hear about, but, gentlemen, I don’t want any more of it. They came so close to me that I had to take my ax to them.” The speaker then took his listeners into Yellowstone Park and its wonders by exhibiting some rare views which Colonel Jones, as the government game warden, could alone secure. He said travel in the park was growing so enormously that the hotels are doubling their capacity. Then he showed views of a terrace, of natural water and sediment formation, that had with years assumed the shape of a pulpit. It was called Pulpit Terrace. Some fine views of the Yellowstone geysers admitting steam and water from the earth which such force that the roar could be heard for five miles, were shown. Yellowstone Lake, 8000 feet above New York city, was shown by the stereopticon. Colonel Jones secured a fine photograph of the den of a mountain lion under some timber which had been covered by willow sprays . In front of this animal retreat were the carcasses of nineteen elk which had been devoured by the lion.

“They lie in wait for an elk to come along,” he said, “and then spring upon the gentle creature until she drops. Then the lion digs out the liver of the elk. They are the greatest destroyers of game and can seldom, if ever, be seen in the day time in the park. The coyote is another of the worthless indestructible animals of the park who kill the elk and mountain sheep in great numbers. They have a howl which will greatly aid the hunter in capturing them if he can imitate the noise which they make and make them think that another coyote is near . Of course no hunting is permitted in the park, although it is necessary to shoot the coyotes and mountain lions occasionally. They have all sorts of bears in the park but, as a rule, they are quite tame. When a bear gets bad he drives the cook out of the kitchen and helps himself.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but we spank those bears when they do that. I get a block and fall and attach it to the heavy bough of a tree, leaving a loop on the ground, and when the Bears steps into the slip news we hoist him up head downward, get a good switch or stick and spank him severely. We crack him over the nose and then over the hind legs and actually make him think we are going to beat him to death. Then when he is lowered we have no fear. The last one I spanked, when turned loose, made a record mile down the side of Mount Washington and we never had any more trouble.”

Colonel Jones told briefly about the president’s trip to Yellowstone about a year ago. He found President. Roosevelt on the side of a hill, about sunrise.

“Ha, ha, “ said he, “I’ve got you now and I am going to shoot you,” said the warden.

“Wait a second.” said Mr. Roosevelt, as he threw back his coat, showing a large hunting knife. Then Warden Jones press the button and took a fine snapshot of President Roosevelt, which he exhibited last night. It would take a week for Colonel Jones to relate the many amusing anecdotes in his career. The views alone required much time to exhibit. He has been a feature of the Sportsman’s show in Madison Square Gardens which closes to-night.

Sometime between 1915 and 1920, intermingling of the introduced and wild animals began. At first this was probably gradual. Park records do not show the specific year, but after 1915 the close herding practices in use with the introduced herd were abandoned, and the animals were kept on open range all summer. Close account was kept of most of them for several more years, but there were some escapees. After 1921, with construction of a log drift fence across the Lamar Valley above Soda Butte Creek, deliberate efforts were made to keep the introduced herd on the higher summer ranges, where intermingling with the wild bison must have quickly increased.

Roosevelt & Carrie -King of the herd and the de-horned cow cir. 1907

Forest and Stream
April 13,1912

Where the Credit Belongs

Seattle, Wash. March 26 – Editor Forest and Stream: In the Sunday Evening Post, of March 25, there is an article. “The Last Stand of the Buffalo,” by Walter Noble Burns, that has an item wherein he says C. J. “Buffalo” Jones purchased the buffalo and transported them the Yellowstone National Park at his own expense. Nothing could be further from the truth.

There is a long story connected with this purchase, but I will not tire you with it, except to say that Colonel John Pitcher should have all the credit for the establishment of this buffalo herd in the park. The cows came from the Allard band and the bulls from the Goodnight herd. The Government paid for them. C. J. Jones was sent there with his brother to care for them at a salary of 1,800 per year, and that was all the interest he had in the buffalo in the Yellowstone National Park.

Every thing is of record at the superintendent’s office at Fort Yellowstone. The establishment of the buffalo herd is not the only thing that Col. John Pitcher should have credit for in connection with the park. There should be credit given where it is due, and surely Mr. Burns ought not to give it where it is not due. T.E. Hofer

The Independent Record
Helena, Montana Jan 9 1923

BISON FROM PARK PASS THROUGH ON WAY TO CLEVELAND

Livingston, Jan. 8. – Two items of expressage, weighing a ton each, arrived from Gardiner yesterday afternoon, en route to Cleveland, Ohio.

Carefully crated, with three bales of hay for refreshment along the route, two nig buffalo from Yellowstone park, were traveling toward their new home, the Brookside zoological gardens at Cleveland.

The animals were docile enough they could not be otherwise, in such close quarters. But it was no small task to move them from one train to another. Half dozen men with muscles stretched and straining, moved the heavy crates from the car to the trucks, which had been raised so that they were level with the car floor.

“It might have been worse,“ one perspiring man declared, when at last the crates were re-loaded on the eat bound train. “Two years ago they sent a couple of fellows down from the park, and the crates were so high they wouldn’t go into the car, and we had a lovely job, you bet. “

The act of January 24, 1923, recognized the authority of the secretary of the interior to “sell or otherwise dispose of the surplus buffalo of the Yellowstone National Park herd.”

Star Tribune 
Minneapolis, Minnesota Mar 21, 1923

HUGE BUFFALO A PARK TERROR

The Project Gutenberg EBook of “Down the Yellowstone,” by Lewis R. Freeman

Written April 1922 Skiing Through Yellowstone

It was but a few summers ago that old “Tuskegee” left the herd, charged a coach full of tourists, goring one of the horses so badly that it had to be shot. The big vehicle was nearly overturned by the plunging horses, while its occupants—a party of New England school-teachers—were driven into frenzies of terror. Neither the bullets from a nickel-plated revolver in the hands of one of the schoolmarms, nor the long stinging whip of the driver, nor even his equally long and stinging oaths, affected “Tuskegee” in the least. He continued butting about among the frightened horses as though the wrecking of a six-in-hand coach was a regular part of his daily routine. At last, however, the sustained hysteria of the females seemed to get upon the old fellow’s nerves. Wheeling about, he turned the stub of his tail to the swooning tourists and galloped, bellowing, over the hill.

An order was at once issued that “Tuskegee” should be shot on sight, and for a month a special detail from the Fort scoured the hills and valleys in search of the renegade. But all to no purpose. The old warrior, as though understanding that he was persona non grata with the authorities, retreated into the impenetrable fastnesses of the mountain spurs above Thorofare Plateau, and nothing was seen or heard of him for many months.

For two years there was an interregnum in buffalodom, during which the big herd gradually dropped to pieces and wandered about in leaderless fragments. Then, one day, a big bull elk was found, crushed and torn, trampled into the mud of Violet Springs, and the scouts told each other that the King had returned. A few days later a soldier of the game patrol, on a run through Hayden Valley, saw the reunited herd debouch from a canyon, with old “Tuskegee” puffing proudly in the lead. His tail was stubbier than ever, the grizzled red hair was more patchy on the rump and more matted on the neck, and a new set of scars was criss-crossed and etched into the old ones upon his flanks. The old fighting spirit still flamed, however, and the trooper owed his life to the fact that the snow was deep, the crust firm, the slope down and his ski well waxed. But a new superintendent was in charge, and his satisfaction at seeing the scattered herd once more united was so great that he stayed the order of execution. Since that time, strangely enough, “Tuskegee” has appeared to show his appreciation of this official clemency by behaving in a most exemplary manner.

I was endeavoring to get a picture of the main herd before it broke up, when Hope espied old “Stub Tail” in the rear of a bunch of young cows who were heading away for the hills. Shouting for me to join him, he gave chase. We gained on them easily in the heavy snow of the valley, and almost overtook them where they floundered, belly-deep, on their erratic course. Then they struck the wind-swept slopes of the lower hills, where the agile cows drew away from us rapidly and scampered out of sight. But not so old “Tuskegee.” Whether it was rheumatism in his stiff old joints that made him stop, or simple weariness, or, as is most likely, the unconquerable pride that would not permit him to turn his back upon an enemy, I shall not attempt to say. In any case, he wheeled and faced us, head low, hoofs pawing the moss, and snorting in angry defiance.

As he stood with his rugged form towering against the white background of the snowy hillside, two jets of steam rushing from his nostrils, his jaws flecked with bloody foam, his one eye gleaming green as the starboard light of a steamer, and his bellows of rage so deep that they seemed to come from beneath the earth, old “Tuskegee” might have been the vindictive incarnation of the spirit of all the geysers and hell holes in the Yellowstone bent on an errand of wrath and destruction.

Right then and there I forgot what I came for, forgot the picture I had intended to take, forgot everything but that snorting colossus in front of me and the fact that the hillside sloped invitingly in the opposite direction. Wherefore I tried to swing around, and in swinging turned too short, crossed my ski, and fell in a heap with my face in the snow.

They say that an ostrich will snuggle its head contentedly into the sand and let a band of Arabs with drawn scimitars charge right into its tail feathers. This may be quite true. Perhaps the climate of the Sahara has something to do with it. But it won’t work with a man, a bull buffalo and a snowdrift, particularly if the man is strapped to two ten-foot-six strips of hickory and the bull buffalo has a bad reputation.

The faith, folly, foolishness, or whatever it is of the ostrich would have saved me a lot of unpleasant apprehensions. Every moment of the time I struggled to unsocket my head from under the nose of one of my ski I was sure I was going to be gored the next. And I am certain I was down all of five minutes, notwithstanding Hope’s assertion that he had me straightened out and on my feet inside of ten seconds.

“Steady, young feller,” I heard him saying as I rubbed the snow from my eyes; “don’t lose your head like that again.” (I wonder if he meant that literally.) “Old ‘Tusky’ won’t hurt a fly nowadays. He’s just posing for his picture. Gimme that camera. Hold up there; tain’t nothing to be scared of!

That last was shouted at me as I gave a push with my pole and began to slide off down the hill out of the danger zone. Swinging round to a reluctant standstill, I meekly unslung my camera as Hope came down for it. Then, all set for a start, I watched him as he zigzagged back up the hill toward the buffalo. “Tusky” was blowing like a young Vesuvius, but the nervy fellow, not a whit daunted, edged up to within twenty feet of the steaming monster, waited calmly for the sun to come out from behind a cloud, and snapped the camera. Then we coasted back to the valley—I well in the lead,—leaving the resolute old monster in full possession of the field.

Inventory Records of the National Park Service

“Recreation Survey of Buffalo,” 1925

715-03 “Memorandum Report on the Proposed Buffalo Show Corral,” by George F. Baggley, 1930

715-03 “Bang’s Disease in the Yellowstone National Park Buffalo Herd,” by Francis D. LaNoue, 1933

H.R. 8773, Dispose of buffalo, 1937-38

Touring the Wild Life Trail-July 1930
(extract) by Irving Brant

But now, seeing a big bull bison lying down at a little distance, I decided to stalk him. He was a park animal, and ought to be safe; also he was asleep. I had just sense enough to keep on the leeward side, and to refrain from throwing a stone to make him raise his head. It was a shame to take a photograph which merely looked like a big rock, but there was something uncompromising about the fellow’s appearance, fifty feet away. The car was a quarter of a mile distant, and I had never made the high school track team. I snapped the shutter and left.

“What do you think?” I asked a park ranger that evening. “Would it have been safe to wake him up?”

“Well,” he said, “If I had my choice I’d walk up to any grizzly bear in the United States rather than monkey with a bull bison, especially one that has left the herd and come down the mountains in the summer. The bison isn’t afraid of anything. He knows that nothing can hurt him, and what he does depends on how he’s feeling. If he charged a bison soon gets tired, but while he’s going he can outrun a horse.”

When he added that four horses were gored to death by bison in one winter, I decided that any future excursions should be with the car door open and a short, clear line of retreat.

The idea that animals in national parks are tame, or nearly so, is based on the habits of those that come around camp-bear, deer and, at some seasons, elk. A “tame” bear, in truth, is more dangerous than a wild one, for nobody can get within several hundred feet of the latter, while one that is used to being fed from the hand will go straight after food and will injure anybody who tries to keep It away from him. No bear, whether used to man or not, will molest a car with people in or near it, but go away leaving food in a closed car and see what your automobile looks like if bruin comes along while you are gone.

The bison of Yellowstone Park are no more domesticated than their progenitor on the primeval plains. Yellowstone antelope, ranging remote from tourist centers, are far shyer than those on Wyoming ranches, which were slaughtered by the thousand in the six-day festival of blood last September. But tame or wild, they do not fear the automobile, and do not fear man as long as he remains inside.

YELLOWSTONE NATURE NOTES
Vol. XIV January-February, 1937 Nos. 1-2

BUFFALO IN YELLOWSTONE PARK
by
Junior Naturalist Frank Oberhansley

Aside from the fact that buffaloes (Bison bison bison) were at least moderately numerous in the region embraced by Yellowstone when this became our first national park in 1872, we know little of the early history of those animals in this region. This is not strange when we remember that there were still millions of buffaloes roaming at large in their native haunts. The supply as yet seemed inexhaustible. The early explorers and visitors were attracted here by the expressions of nature in the hot springs, geysers, and other natural wonders. It was natural that only their impressions and interpretation of the unique were written. Upon verification by the Geological Survey that such geologic phenomena really existed here, this area was set aside as a national park in order that it might be preserved in its natural state by the government for the “benefit and enjoyment” of all the people, forever. The thought of making Yellowstone a game preserve was incidental to the main issue.

From the time of discovery until 1886 hunting was deemed essential to the success of any expedition to this remote area. Market hunters were well established in the northern section of the park as early as 1873. The first superintendent, N. P. Langford, recommended that hunting be restricted to the needs of residents of the park and its visitors, but for want of any salary he was prevented from residing here and seriously checking these activities during his five year term.

In the pioneering venture of creating a national park, Congress overlooked the item of providing money for administration and protection; consequently for a period of five years no government funds were available and hunters had things pretty much their own way in Yellowstone. When money was first appropriated in 1877, the beginning of the end was in sight for the buffalo. At this time Superintendent Norris stated that thousands of hides had been taken out and that it was the practice of the hunters to poison the carcasses which were left as bait for wolf and wolverine. He predicted correctly that within the decade buffaloes would become extinct or exceedingly rare outside of this government area. It was estimated that there were three or four hundred head of the “curly, nearly black bison” (1) left in the park. They were described by Norris as being “smaller, of lighter color and with horns smaller and less spreading than those of the bison that formerly inhabited Colorado.” (1). Figgins described the mountain buffalo (Bison bison haningtoni) as being much lighter in color, “notably in the head, neck, and forelimbs” (2) than the plains buffalo (Bison bison bison). Grinnell stated that the “Mountain Buffalo” (3) was abundant in Yellowstone Park in 1875 and called attention to the terrible destruction of these animals for their hides alone. These mountain buffalo were considered to be more fleet and intelligent than the plains animals. Their hides were also more valuable as they were darker, finer, and more curly.

In 1880 Mr. Norris estimated 600 buffaloes for the park, 300 of which were only summer residents and having their winter range to the west in Idaho. The other animals ranged in the eastern and northeastern section of the park. During the year a game keeper was employed to assist Mr. Norris in protecting the buffalo and other animals. By Superintendent’s Order the buffalo was protected in 1879. Montana also provided a protection law that year.

From 1882 to 1885 we can learn nothing of the status of the buffalo in Yellowstone. Reports of slaughter moved Congress to replace civilian employees with Cavalry troops of the army, the commanding officers acting as superintendents for a period of 30 years when the National Park Service of today was created. Protective work was ineffectual as no suitable court or laws were provided for offenders. The work of the soldiers was augmented by civilian scouts acting in the nature of game wardens.

In 1886 all hunting in Yellowstone was prohibited by law but no court was provided to try cases, the only punishment being arrest and expulsion from the park and confiscation of outfit. This proved to be an excellent gamble for poachers with cheap outfits when a good head was worth $400.

Captain Harris estimated 100 buffalo in 1837. The following year he dispatched a patrol on snowshoes to the winter range with the idea of finding out how many buffaloes were left. This patrol encountered only three head. A later patrol in March succeeded in finding signs of about 100 animals that had wintered in the vicinity of Mary Mountain. During the following spring several buffaloes were seen along the Firehole River whose range was thought to extend across the Madison Plateau to the southwest corner. Thee total estimate was then raised to 200 head.

Captain Boutelle became superintendent in 1890. He observed a scarcity of calves and thought cougars and lions were preying upon them. Sensing the perilous plight of the buffalo, appeals were sent to the governors of the states of Wyoming and Idaho for protection of animals that might drift from the park into these states. Wyoming enacted a good protection law the same year but Idaho ignored the request and continued to harbor the most notorious set of poachers known, in the vicinity of Henrys Lake near the western border of the park.

From 1891 to 1897 Captain George S. Anderson served as military superintendent. He noted the activities of the merciless freebooters of Henrys Lake and learned of several heads being marketed in surrounding towns at from four to five hundred dollars. Several arrests were made in this vicinity, but no convictions were secured. During the winter of 1894 a notorious poacher from Cooke, Montana was arrested in Hayden Valley with six hides in possession. Scout Burgess and Sergeant Troike apprehended him in the act of stalking a small band of buffaloes. His final conviction was the first under the new protection law of 1894. A court was established that year in the park with John W. Meldrum as first United States Commissioner to try cases and assess penalties.

From 1891 to 1894 Captain Anderson estimated there were 400 buffalo left in the park when suddenly the estimate dropped to 200. Seventy five were counted on the west side and reports of many more in 1891. Evidently, the Idaho poachers were quite successful, for in the year 1896 it was estimated there were only 25 or 30 head left in the entire park, and doubts were expressed that they could be saved. Attempts were made to capture a few of them by providing hay in a corral in Hayden Valley but with no success. Hay was cut and stacked in Pelican Valley in hopes the buffalo would find it. Winter snows covered it so deeply, however, that even the scouts could not locate it. Special money was made available by the War Department in a final effort to save the buffalo from complete extermination. Experienced hunters and other mountain men were employed to assist the scouts and soldiers but their efforts were of no avail as the damage was nearly complete. Only the carcasses were left as evidence of the fact that buffalo had inhabited the southwestern and western sections of the park. Poachers had reduced the herd to an estimated 22 head by 1902.

With buffalo so near to extinction, it was decided to import an entirely new herd, and gradually release some of these animals, thus introducing new blood into the wild herd. Accordingly, 18 cows were secured from the Pablo-Allard herd in Montana and delivered by Howard Eaton. At the same time, 3 bulls were secured from the Goodnight herd in Texas by C. J. (Buffalo) Jones who was employed as game warden in charge of buffalo. These animals were kept in a large enclosed pasture one mile south of Mammoth until 1907 at which time the herd had grown in number to 61 head. Three calves were captured from the wild herd and raised by domestic cows. The pasture proved insufficient to meet the needs of the ever-increasing herd so a new site was selected on the present location of the Buffalo Ranch in Lamar Valley at the mouth of Rose Creek. Here a portion of the valley bottom was fenced off to protect the wild grasses which were harvested in the fall for winter feed. The north slopes of the valley including about 600 acres were fenced for summer pasture land. Comfortable living quarters were provided for the buffalo keeper at the present site.

As early as 1908 it was felt that there were too many bulls in the herd. They were constantly fighting and endangering the lives of the calves. In order to relieve the condition, fourteen bulls were separated from the herd and driven to Mammoth as the first show herd. Late in the fall they were returned to the main herd. The practice of maintaining a show herd at Mammoth continued until 1935 when a more suitable location on Antelope Creek was selected. Hundreds of thousands of visitors have thus been benefited; as buffalo could rarely be seen by them on the inaccessible summer range.

The Lamar herd had grown until in 1910 it numbered 121 head, 61 males and 60 females. The original summer pasture proved inadequate so the herd was turned out each morning to graze. At first they were herded carefully and driven into the enclosure every two hours in order to accustom them to being handled. Later they were herded during the daytime and returned to the pasture at night. This practice of day herding was continued until 1915 when it was thought to be unnecessary. Since that time, the herd has gradually reverted to a wild state until today the Yellowstone buffalo are perhaps fully as wild as the plains buffalo of old.

In December 1911, just after the buffaloes were taken from the range where they had been day herded during the summer, 22 of the younger animals (15% of the herd) died. Blackleg was at first suspected and fear of losing the entire herd prompted quick action. The disease was found to be Hemorrhagic septicemia, a blood disease for which the entire herd was vaccinated in June of that year. There was a recurrence of the disease in 1919 when 26 of the buffaloes died in spite of previous vaccinations in 1917 and 1918. A third attack of the disease threatened the herd of 578 in 1922. Fifty two of the animals died before serum could be secured from the Bureau of Animal Industry. The new serum of 1922 proved to be 100% effective in immunizing buffalo against the disease and from that time until the present a fresh supply has been available at the Buffalo Ranch ready for instant use.

In the meantime, the original wild animals were not molested by poachers. They ranged widely over the park country east of Yellowstone Lake and River, so wild that they were seldom seen even by the scouts or later by the rangers, except when special patrols were made. Seventy two head were counted in 1916 and 67 in 1917. Since that time there has been a gradual overlapping of the ranges of the two herds until at the present time they have thoroughly intermingled. There is still a tendency for the animals to winter in distinct herds. The main herd at the Buffalo Ranch is fed hay during the hardest part of the winter. Another group varying in number to as many as 300 animals, winters in the valleys east of Yellowstone Lake without artificial feed. During the past two two small herds, numbering 36 and 35 were separated from the main herd and turned loose in Hayden Valley and the Lower Geyser Basin, respectively, in order to reduce the main herd and at the same time establish the buffalo on his former range. These animals seem to be doing well in their new locations. Twenty eight were counted in Hayden Valley in September while thirty were seen in January in the Lower Geyser Basin.

The early problem of surplus bulls in the herd was partially met by establishing a show herd at Mammoth, through live shipments, to public parks and zoos and to private estates for exhibition purposes. As early as 1904, attempts were made to rejuvenate the wild herd with new blood by liberating one of the new bulls in Pelican Valley. This venue was a failure as the bull was found dead near Thumb station the following spring. Subsequent attempts were made to reduce the number of bulls by driving them from the Buffalo Ranch anticipating that they would join the wild herd, but fortunately for the wild herd they always returned to the Ranch. Finally, permission to slaughter and sell the meat of surplus buffaloes was granted by Congress to park officials so in the event that live shipments do not balance the herd against feed and available range, there is always a way provided for a sound management program. It has been established that facilities in Yellowstone are adequate for approximately 1000 buffaloes and for the best interests of the park as a whole this figure has been adhered to rather closely during the past few years. In 1918, 66% (44 head) of the male calves of 1917 and 1918 were castrated during the vaccination of the herd for Hemorrhagic septicemia. These steers and others following were slaughtered at the Buffalo Ranch, the meat in later years having been donated to relief organizations and Indian agencies in the states bordering the park. Total live shipments to zoos and reservations from the park number 1351 to date.

From the small herd of eighteen cows and three bulls established in Yellowstone in 1902 plus the remnant of the original herd which was assimilated in later years, the present herds total approximately 1000 head, while a total of 2182 surplus animals have been disposed of. Many fine herds have been establish throughout the country from the Yellowstone surplus.

Under the sound management program of late years, the future of the buffalo in the park has never been brighter.

References for the above article:

1. Superintendents’ Annual Reports

2. Figgins, J. A., Bison of the Western Area of the Mississippi Basin, Vol. XII, p. 30.

3. Grinnell, George Bird and Ludlow, Captain – A Reconnaissance from Carroll, Montana to Yellowstone National Park in 1875.

Disposition of Quarantine Facility Study Bison Oct 2014

QFSBisonDisposition draftEA (public-pdf)