Buffalo Girl and I hopped into the Buffalo Mobile and headed out to Bud Cotton Buffalo Paddock alongside Camp Wainwright, just off Highway 14.
We even pulled over and got out of the car, but we didn't see any Buffalo.
This was going to be tougher than I first thought.
We entered the military base to see if we could get a better vantage point. We still didn't see any Buffalo.
We decided that the conditions weren't conducive for sighting Buffalo and returned to base.
This time we took the Buffalo Mobile a little deeper into Buffalo Territory. We took the track that skirts the Bud Cotton Buffalo Paddock down past cow region, past horse area, past Elk territory way out onto the Buffalo plains.
We managed to get a pretty good parking spot, which is always a bonus, then we headed off on foot.
We searched and searched and searched, but we still didn't see any Buffalo.
Once again we returned home to base disappointed.
Still no Buffalo. We headed even deeper into Buffalo Territory. Our hopes rose momentarily when we spotted what we thought were fresh Buffalo tracks and then saw some movement in the trees, but it turned out to be a pair of Elk.
We saw the Buffalo Camp from the 1912 expedition, some Buffalo skulls and even experienced
some Buffalo weather, but still no sign of living Buffalo.
We continued on and
eventually reached the Buffalo waterhole at the foot of Dead Man's Hill. Here we
saw some real Buffalo tracks and
even a few Buffalo turds, but they were a day or two old. Perhaps they'd got wind of us and moved on.
It snowed. We dared not venture out into the near blizzard conditions.
Instead we visited the Wainwright Museum to see what we could learn of the history of Buffalo in the area.
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There were many pictures, relics and artefacts relating to Ernie, his Grandfather Eric the Buffalo, who ruled the herd with an iron hoof at the turn of the century with his wife Granny, and details of the "Cattalo" breeding experiments which failed due to the male offspring of Buffalo and Cattle being sterile, not to mention very ugly. We also saw one of the largest collections of spoons in the Northern Hemisphere. |
We took our tracker dogs out to search. This turned out to be a big mistake. It only served to rile the Buffalo. One of the dogs got a scent and ran off into the woods ... there was mayhem. When she finally returned, she was a mess. We cleaned her up as best we could physically, but mentally she would never be the same. All the same, we knew we were getting close.
We spent the rest of the afternoon at the local native reservation, speaking to the tribal elders. They taught us the sacred buffalo dance to be performed at midnight under the full moon. Things were turning our way - the full moon was due that night. |
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The dance to call the Buffalo involves 3 stages.
First, the dance must be performed at midnight, under the light of a full moon.
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Second the correct apparel must be worn. A Native American garment called "Nickerpoopoo" should be worn on the head. If this cannot be obtained then the nearest compromise is to wear your underpants on your head - make sure you turn them inside out first and point any skid mark's to the front! |
Thirdly the dance steps themselves must be performed
with precision. |
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The dawn broke and we rose eagerly. The events of the night before had left the group with a new enthusiasm. The snow from day four had melted and the sun shone brightly. There just seemed to be an auspicious feeling in the air. Once again we entered the Bud Cotton Buffalo Park and headed down the Buffalo trail. We reached Dead Man's Hill, which we had explored the base of previously, and decided that the only way were we going to find the Buffalo was to conquer it. We made a slow ascent at first, then 3/4 of the way up, we couldn't believe our eyes. Just over the peak we could see three Buffalo.
Unfortunately when we got over the peak the rest of the herd was nowhere to be found. It was starting to get dark. Our only hope was to camp out overnight and continue the next day.
Back to the top.After a nervous sleep, with each of us taking a turn at guard duty, we rose at first light. We packed up the campsite quickly and headed off. We were venturing deeper into the woods than any white people since the legendary Bud Cotton in the 1920's. Eventually we spotted them ... not 1, not 2, not 3 - it was the whole herd!
As we moved closer the older Buffalo began to circle to block our path, then all of a sudden they parted like the red sea and through the gap came Ernie, striding majestically like the King of the Universe. It was then apparent why he has disappeared and taken the rest of the herd with him, for in the distance through our field binoculars we could see some of the female Buff's, among them his partner Emily, sheltering young calves. There must have been 3 or 4 of them.
Ernie was protecting them from the glare of publicity that was enevitable had he stayed closer to civilization.
It was clear that we weren't welcome and so we slowly backed off. Ernie watched us, as we carefully climbed Dead Man's Hill and headed back towards the Buffalo Mobile, happy in the knowledge that Ernie was safe and well, and that he would return in his own good time.
There were no wild celebrations in the town of Wainwright that night, but the air was warm as the entire community let out a cumulative sigh of relief. The whole town slept well, safe in the knowledge that the Buffalo would soon return.
