Tale of waste and missed opportunities

By the late 19th century, the American buffalo, once a symbol of the boundless West, faced near extinction in a feverish slaughter that reshaped the Great Plains. John W. Mooar, a pioneer of commercial buffalo hunting, witnessed this era firsthand. His account, shared from Colorado City, Texas, reveals not only the scale of destruction but also the squandered potential for preservation that could have altered history. The following narrative summarizes that account:

The buffalo slaughter began in earnest in 1870 and ended by 1877, though smaller-scale hunting had occurred earlier in states like Nebraska, Kansas, and Texas. Before 1870, hunters sold choice cuts of buffalo meat to government posts or local markets, discarding the hides as worthless. This changed when J. Wright Mooar, a young New Yorker, arrived at Fort Hays, Kansas, in 1870. While supplying wood to the fort, Mooar met James White, a buffalo hunter who discarded hides after selling meat. Intrigued by the potential, Mooar proposed an experiment, shipping twenty-one hides to his brother in New York. Though initially unsellable, a Pennsylvania tannery evaluated them, leading to a contract for 2,000 hides at $3.50 each. This deal sparked the commercial hide trade, with other tanners, including an English firm ordering 10,000 hides, soon joining the market.

The buffalo range became a battleground of commerce. Hunters faced challenges, including the need for effective weaponry. Mooar and White collaborated with manufacturers to produce the “Big Fifty,” a powerful rifle, followed by the popular Sharpe’s 44. By 1871, hunting outfits flooded Western Kansas, but by 1872, some ventured into West Texas, a prime buffalo territory. Indian uprisings, including those by the Kiowas and Comanches, forced hunters to take a circuitous 1,000-mile route through Fort Dodge, Denison, and Fort Griffin to reach the plains. Traveling with ox and mule teams, they crossed a wilderness teeming with antelope, deer, turkeys, and wolves… wildlife that would soon vanish.

In 1872, the first permanent buffalo camp was established at Big Lake, near modern Knox and Haskell counties in Texas. That winter, hunters killed over 20,000 buffaloes, curing thousands of pounds of meat. The resulting hide-and-meat train, with oxen pulling wagons stacked high with dried hides and meat, stretched over a mile. The sight of this caravan entering Denison was unforgettable, though local buyers, overwhelmed, sold the haul to Leavenworth, Kansas, via telegraph.

By 1873-74, hunting outfits proliferated, including George Causey’s massive operation, which skinned 75,000 buffaloes in the Yellow House Canyon during the 1876-77 winter. Sam Carr, a legendary solo hunter, could kill and skin 35-40 buffaloes daily, focusing solely on hides. By 1875, merchants funded anyone with a wagon, gun, and ambition, flooding the range and hastening the buffalo’s demise.

The waste was staggering. Of millions of buffaloes killed, only about 5% of the meat (primarily the humps, tongues, and hams) was cured. Buffalo meat, prized for its quality, briefly gained popularity, but overproduction crashed prices, with hides dropping to seventy-five cents and meat to 1.5 cents per pound in distant markets. Tallow, of inferior quality, was largely ignored.

After the slaughter, railroads penetrated the former buffalo range, sparking a “bone boom” around 1880. Tons of bleaching bones littered the plains, especially on killing grounds where hunters had mastered “holding the herd” to slaughter hundreds at a time. The first major bone shipment, from Abilene, Texas, to New Orleans, fetched high prices, triggering a rush. Texas alone shipped hundreds of thousands of tons at $1.50 per ton, though overharvesting and prairie fires depleted the supply, collapsing the market.

Buffaloes were remarkable creatures, migrating south to the Rio Grande in winter and north to Canada in summer. Herds varied from hundreds to thousands, often grazing or moving in unison. Mooar noted two breeds: mealy-nose (yellow-nosed) and black-nose, along with rare white and blue buffaloes. White buffaloes, sacred to Native Americans, commanded high prices, while blue buffaloes, with silvery-black coats, were prized for robes. Calves, born red, later turned dark brown.

Amid the slaughter, opportunities for preservation were overlooked. In 1876, Englishman Charles Tasker envisioned a buffalo park in Texas’s Blanco Canyon, a fertile valley ideal for enclosing a herd with stone walls. He acquired thousands of acres but squandered funds on stone buildings before starting the fences. By the time he was ready, Tasker was bankrupt, and the buffalo was nearly gone.

In contrast, Colonel Charles Goodnight’s wife, Mary, urged him to save orphaned buffalo calves in 1878. Goodnight roped and raised a small group on his Quitaque River ranch, using milk cows and strong fences. This modest effort founded the Goodnight herd, preserving a sliver of Texas’s buffalo legacy.

The buffalo slaughter was a tragedy of waste and shortsightedness. Vast tracts of land, available for pennies, could have been game preserves, potentially making visionaries like Tasker millionaires and global icons. Instead, the buffalo vanished, leaving only bones and regret. Thanks to Mary Goodnight’s foresight, a remnant herd survived, but the slaughter remains a stark reminder of a lost opportunity and a national calamity.