Given this background of Indian ways, what might reasonably have been expected in the way of biracial adjustment? So little was the question of Indian welfare considered before 1880 that one cannot yet determine just what course might have solved the problem and brought about successful assimilation. First the English, and then the Americans, just muddled along, bribing here, cajoling there, and ultimately forcing everywhere, until this once proud and militant race was reduced to an inconsolable remnant, broken, defeated, and forlorn, but not forsaken.
Even when the white man’s heart was good toward his red brother there was conflict in policies. Some thought his only salvation was in the adoption of agriculture and stock raising, but such a program was ruinous to the fur traders. The natives were the sinews of that business. The contrast in economy and culture, rival claims to land, and mutual feelings of superiority presented a gulf too vast for peaceful desires to overcome. It was the realization of this fact that impelled the wise Alexander Ross to say, “Peace in reality was beyond our power; it was but an empty name.”[165] White men’s activities and aggressions, under whatever guise, progressively deranged the Indians’ economy. From every frontier came incessant demands for the reduction of Indian lands. Memorials to Congress, complaints to Indian commissioners, blistering editorials in local newspapers, all mark a stage in frontier development. Settlers were intolerant of checks upon their expansion, and few, indeed, were the officials who had the temerity to “arrest the tide of empire in the Territories.”
Against this ominous force the Indians could only writhe and twist. The uneven contest waged for two and a half centuries, extending from Jamestown to the Pequot War and from Tippecanoe to Custer’s defeat in the battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876. It is a tale of red fury and white vengeance such as might properly appertain to an age of barbarism but which presents an incongruous picture in a Christian land. It is correct to say that Indian-American relations were never improved but always embittered until the natives were reduced to the point of decimation.
Actually, the activities of fur trappers were not bitterly resented by the natives. Notwithstanding their excessive exploitation of the game there were compensations. A measure of accommodation resulted, which does not imply that there was any lack of violence. Theft, rivalry, and sheer joy of conflict were motives always operating. But there was a community of interest existing between the trapper and Indian which was impossible between the settler and Indian. Primitive existence was based upon tribal land and native game; both of these methods were denied by white settlers. Two types of economy were in conflict, and the red man’s sun was already beginning to set. The clash is brought into clear relief in the story of the buffalo.
The bison is America’s largest game animal, and for centuries it was most plentiful. Native to both plains and mountains it was a truly monarchial beast. A Spanish conquistador, Cabeza de Vaca, left an account of his observation upon the Texas plains in 1532: “The cows came from the north, and are found all over the land for over four hundred leagues.”[166]
Several years later Coronado’s report stated that they “had seen nothing but cows and sky.” Ample supporting evidence sustains the fact that the number was legion. In 1832, Captain Bonneville stated, “As far as the eye could reach the country seemed absolutely blackened by innumerable herds.” No census was ever taken, but competent authority suggests that sixty million head was a conservative estimate for the American plains in the early nineteenth century. Dependable calculations place the number persisting until 1870 at one fourth that number. At the end of the century the species was on the verge of extinction.
How did this remarkable diminution transpire? Here, indeed, is a roundup of mammoth proportions and far-reaching consequences. Bison were the natives’ base of life, their tribal grubstake, a divine heritage. Only by wise conservation of this wild animal wealth were they enabled to maintain such a free and easy life.
After the Civil War railroads were projected into the buffalo country. Construction camps employed professional hunters to provide fresh meat. William F. Cody held a contract for the Union Pacific. It was this circumstance that gave him the name “Buffalo Bill.” Such hunters set amazing records for a day’s slaughter. Wasteful as this practice was, much greater prodigality emanated from the camps of certain foreign and American sportsmen and celebrities. Russian grand dukes, English lords, German counts, and American “no-a-counts” were alike in their insatiable instinct of destruction.[167] In way of extenuation it is fair to state that the emotional strain of bison chasing was overpowering.
However, it was the railroad itself that dealt the deadliest blow. Bison robes were too bulky to be handled by pack train, and only marginal profits accrued to wagon masters, but the effect of the iron horse was revolutionary. During the early seventies several lines conducted hunting excursions at low rates, guaranteeing shots from the windows. These facilities, supplemented by horse-and-wagon outfits, made the conquest of buffalo easy, especially when a definite profit was in view. That condition developed when the tanneries discovered bison hides could be used in leather wear. Thereafter, hides sold from $1.00 to $4.00 each, and a party of six hunters could kill and skin fifty or more in a day. In 1873, the Santa Fe alone carried 754,529 hides to eastern markets.[168] The traffic in buffalo hides grew and prospered and finally degenerated into debauching butchery.
