lEGENDARY Tales
"Buffaloed!!"
Submitted by: DBStory Time Frame: 1914
“Oh, the buffalo is after Dad!!!” That got the three generation group right out into the yard. Of those there I was the youngest, four years old, big-eyed, and scared blue. My Grandfather had ridden horseback down the meadow road a while before. He hated to leave his house, which was full of visiting relatives that Sunday noon. But he had to check briefly about the hay on the “island”. He was riding “The Crosswhite Mare”, (the only name that skittish critter ever had). The family what lived in the big buildings to the West, went in for a small game preserve. The deer pasture had a twelve foot fence with the barbed wires close together. Mountain goats would walk along the ridge pole of the huge barn. But on this day the bull buffalo chose to stay uncontained. Fences slowed him down, but little. When Grandad started back from the “island” he saw the buffalo coming toward at a steady walk. Mom’s Dad decided to retreat gradually. But the big bull suddenly charged. The young mare, who could run fast, decided NOT to do that. She began to buck instead. She pitched with such vigor that Grandad forgot about almost everything else in his determined effort to stay aboard. At the last second The Crosswhite Mare broke and ran. With the shaggy, angry beast in tow, she made for the ranch buildings. She was just barely in the lead as they approached the bridge across the ditch just below us. But the nearness of the buildings with the people in the yard caused the threatening brute to pause. One blast from the shotgun, even at that distance, persuaded him to stop pawing the ground and ramble off down-river. We were all happy to have our leader back safe and sound. His daughter remembers that he was “as white as a sheet”. This grandson well recalls how hard he was breathing from the excitement. A call to the buffalo’s owner led him to get rid of the big animal which had caused trouble before. A friend of his was a hunter and a taxidermist. He had a large collection of mounted animals and of heads, but no buffalo. He had said in the past that “if anything ever happens to that big fellow I want his head to mount”. Soon he had the head. But the taxidermist could not display his prized for several years. He could not get the artificial eyes for it. The only ones of those to be had were in Paris. And France then was fully occupied with World War One. After 1918, though, glass eyes were obtained to complete the work of art. For many years, looking down the length of an insurance office, was the head of that buffalo we had all seen chasing Grandad.
“Oh, the buffalo is after Dad!!!” That got the three generation group right out into the yard. Of those there I was the youngest, four years old, big-eyed, and scared blue. My Grandfather had ridden horseback down the meadow road a while before. He hated to leave his house, which was full of visiting relatives that Sunday noon. But he had to check briefly about the hay on the “island”. He was riding “The Crosswhite Mare”, (the only name that skittish critter ever had). The family what lived in the big buildings to the West, went in for a small game preserve. The deer pasture had a twelve foot fence with the barbed wires close together. Mountain goats would walk along the ridge pole of the huge barn. But on this day the bull buffalo chose to stay uncontained. Fences slowed him down, but little. When Grandad started back from the “island” he saw the buffalo coming toward at a steady walk. Mom’s Dad decided to retreat gradually. But the big bull suddenly charged. The young mare, who could run fast, decided NOT to do that. She began to buck instead. She pitched with such vigor that Grandad forgot about almost everything else in his determined effort to stay aboard. At the last second The Crosswhite Mare broke and ran. With the shaggy, angry beast in tow, she made for the ranch buildings. She was just barely in the lead as they approached the bridge across the ditch just below us. But the nearness of the buildings with the people in the yard caused the threatening brute to pause. One blast from the shotgun, even at that distance, persuaded him to stop pawing the ground and ramble off down-river. We were all happy to have our leader back safe and sound. His daughter remembers that he was “as white as a sheet”. This grandson well recalls how hard he was breathing from the excitement. A call to the buffalo’s owner led him to get rid of the big animal which had caused trouble before. A friend of his was a hunter and a taxidermist. He had a large collection of mounted animals and of heads, but no buffalo. He had said in the past that “if anything ever happens to that big fellow I want his head to mount”. Soon he had the head. But the taxidermist could not display his prized for several years. He could not get the artificial eyes for it. The only ones of those to be had were in Paris. And France then was fully occupied with World War One. After 1918, though, glass eyes were obtained to complete the work of art. For many years, looking down the length of an insurance office, was the head of that buffalo we had all seen chasing Grandad.