One by one the Indians would offer to the trader, who was often an unscrupulous cheat,the beautiful soft furs which had been secured by trapping and shooting amid the dangers and the hardships of the cold and lonely North. Gaudy calico, cheap blankets, or the bad combination of bullets and whisky, were given in exchange for the valuable pelts. To such traders, to certain selfish and designing settlers, and to some of the government agents, who have steadily driven the Indians back and back from wide prairie to a hunting ground, and then to a reservation, the red man owes much of the degradation and humiliation which overtook him.
As we look curiously at the straggling herds of buffalo, deer, and antelope in our parks and preserves to-day, we can scarcely realize how abundant was the game which the early hunters and trappers found roaming over the “Great American Desert.” There is evidence of one herd of buffalo that made the earth brown for a stretch of country seventy miles long by thirty miles wide. On one of the first railroads to be laid across the plains of Kansas, a train was once held up for nine hours while a herd crossed the tracks. Both whites andIndians slaughtered these vast herds carelessly and wantonly, using a variety of methods. A government report of 1875 speaks of one hundred thousand buffalo that were killed near Dodge City, Kansas. Only the saddles were used for food. The same report says: “It is known that south of the Arkansas River, west of Wichita, there were from one to two thousand men killing buffalo for hides alone.” At one place on the south forks of the Republican River in 1874, there were six thousand and five hundred carcases from which the hides had been stripped.
Towers for religious purposes, or medicine lodges, were built by the Indians with the horns of buffalo, antelope, and deer. Some of these towers were so high that they could be seen for many miles. Father De Smet speaks of seeing one of them from the Missouri River as he made his way westward in the year 1846. As a result of this enormous destruction of the herds, the hide markets became so glutted that the skins of bulls brought only one dollar, and the hides of cows and calves from forty to sixty cents each.
Just outside of the city of Fort Benton there was pointed out to Brother Van a famous cliff about one hundred and twenty feet high and rising sheer from the river. There the Indians were in the habit of killing buffalo by a method that is interesting if brutal. A fleet, active young man of the tribe would disguise himself as a buffalo by wearing a buffalo skin with the head attached. He was possessed also of a “Iuis Kini” (i uis-ki ni) or buffalo stone, which gave power to call buffalo. Before a run to a “falling place,” he spent the night invoking the aid of the gods by burning sweet grass and sweet pine to draw the spirits. He purified himself by passing through the smoke of this fire.
When all was ready the buffalo hunter would attract the attention of the herd by strange antics, and then begin to call: “Hoo-hoo-hoo-ini-uh-ini-uh.” Men and women concealed behind rocks began to yell; and the buffalo, terrified, ran with ever increasing speed toward the decoy, who led them toward the precipice. The herd, which might vary in number from one hundred and fifty to tenthousand, would rush blindly forward and plunge over the wall to death in the shallow water beneath. The decoy would dodge into a crevice previously chosen in the edge of the cliff.
Brother Van had arrived in this interesting country of Indian exploits just before an eventful day, the Fourth of July. He was invited to the Fort as a guest of the non-commissioned officers. The Stars and Stripes fluttered over the rude barracks every day, but in the town the flag was displayed to show that it was a holiday. Wild scenes were enacted in the saloons, and Indians, who were waiting with their hard-earned furs, learned of the white man’s “fire-water,” which was used freely in the celebration.
Out in the stockade of the fort a feast was spread. The boat had brought bread and dried fruit, both of which were great delicacies. These, combined with the usual western fare, made a sumptuous repast. The western fare consisted of “jerked buffalo,” which is simply dried buffalo meat, fresh antelope meat, a great delicacy even to the westerner, and the best dish of all, dried buffalo tongue.
Speeches were made and weird stories told of the warfare with the Indians. The eastern youth listened and wondered, and on that day he pondered over the subject of the red man’s condition. Later he decided the matter in his own mind; he knew that the Indian had been more sinned against than sinning, and that the original American had been greatly misunderstood.
Those days of tarrying were fruitful days for William Van Orsdel. Not only were the cowboys and freighters won to friendship by his sympathy, but the Indians’ confidence was gained. Friends, whose helpfulness was to last through his busy lifetime, became interested in him. Young Tatton, a tall, vigorous, fighting scout, a member of Company B of the Seventh Infantry, was one of the men who became one of Brother Van’s fast friends in those days. He knew the West and understood its joys and privations thoroughly. He had noticed the new preacher as he faced the motley crowd that first day in Fort Benton. Though Tatton was a Roman Catholic, he admired the zeal which had found a way and aplace for religious services on the very day on which the missionary had set foot on the new soil. With leveled eyes the soldier scout had watched the crowd as they listened to that first earnest sermon of the eager newcomer, and to Brother Van he gave his support and a loyal and lasting friendship.