Next, he tried marketing buffalo products. Goodnight promoted the therapeutic and curative powers of buffalo fat, which, he contended, when made into a medicinal soap, would cure rheumatism. When he couldn't get doctors to endorse his claim, he changed his tactics and started marketing buffalo fat as a machinery lubricant and silver polish. Goodnight remained a valiant booster for the bison.
C.J. "Buffalo" Jones also experimented with crossbreeding buffalo. By mating a female buffalo with a domesticated cattle bull, Jones came up with a mix he called a "cattalo." Bulls born of this type of crossbreeding were usually sterile, a problem that Jones chose to ignore. His purpose in breeding cattalo was to create larger animals with the disposition of domestic cattle. This, he figured, would yield larger and finer-quality buffalo robes. He claimed that a first-generation cross was bigger than either of its parents. Although this was probably true, the greater size that resulted from the "hybrid vigor" of the first-generation crosses diminished with each successive cross.
Jones also tried to "break bison to the harness" and use them to pull wagons. A relentless self-promoter, he was often pictured in a buckboard pulled by "Lucky Knight," a bull that had killed its previous owner. The ensuing publicity that Jones could tame a buffalo, particularly a killer buffalo increased his reputation considerably. He was successful with a few animals, but the practice never really caught on as anything more than a stunt. Other people also tried to domesticate buffalo. Some had dreams that one day buffalo would pull plows on the prairie. And though young calves could sometimes be trained to accept a harness, once hitched to a wagon they would go wherever they pleased.
As a young man, Michel Pablo earned his living as a buffalo runner, shooting the animals for their meat to feed the crews building the transcontinental railroad. Not until much later in life did he realize that the buffalo were nearing extinction, a situation to which he had contributed. Pablo wanted to make amends, and he and a partner started to build a herd. They obtained free pasture rights on the Flathead Indian Reservation in Montana, and as their herd steadily grew, they sold buffalo to parks, zoos, and ranchers.
In the early 1900s, Pablo approached the United States Congress with an offer to sell the government seven hundred buffalo to expand the herds already living in protected park lands and preserves. Theodore Roosevelt and other powerful conservationists favored the transaction, but members of Congress objected and blocked the purchase. They didn't feel that buying buffalo was good use of federal money, especially money that came mostly from taxing the eastern states. Pablo then went to the Canadian government. The superintendent of Rocky Mountain Park in Banff, Alberta, recognized the opportunity and lobbied the Canadian parliament to purchase the buffalo. Pablo's entire herd was bought and relocated to Elk Island Park in Alberta.
Scotty Philip was another fascinating character associated with the move to save buffalo from extinction. Born James Philip in Scotland, he came to the United States in his teens to build a fortune. He tried his hand at many occupations, from gold miner to army courier. Ranching proved to be his path to success, and he became one of the wealthiest and most influential ranchers in South Dakota. He raised thousands of cattle on his many ranches and started raising bison as well. By 1904, Philip had a herd of about eighty buffalo.
Perhaps the best-known escapade associated with Philip was the "Bullfight of the Century," a fight between a Mexican fighting bull and an American bison. The event came about after a Mexican dignitary had visited Philip's ranch. During the visit, both Philip and the Mexican dignitary had made exaggerated claims about the abilities of their respective favorite animals. A friend of Philip's suggested that they arrange a contest to settle the dispute. Hearing of this idea through a network of friends, the manager of a bullring in Juárez, Mexico, soon issued a friendly challenge. Word of the contest spread far and wide, and on the day of the event, the bullring was filled to capacity, mostly with Mexicans who looked derisively at the bison bull sitting calmly in the ring.
The Mexican fighting bull pawed and snorted and charged the bison from the side. The bull, however, had never fought a bison before. Fighting bulls pivot and turn on their hind legs; bison pivot on their front legs because of the massive weight of their shoulders and hump. In a blur, the bison spun around and met the Mexican bull head to head. The fighting bull bounced off. The bison stood his ground with little reaction. And so it went each time the fighting bull charged. Finally the fighting bull was on the ground, exhausted from the one-sided battle. The owners of the Mexican bull were embarrassed and enraged. They claimed that the bull was not a good one and wanted to bring in another, meaner bull. In all, two bison bested three Mexican fighting bulls. The men from Philip's ranch returned to South Dakota with more than enough winnings to pay for the trip.
The Bullfight of the Century makes an unforgettable anecdote in the annals of bison history, but Scotty Philip's real contribution to bison ranching was his dedication to pure bloodlines. Unlike many other ranchers of the time, Philip did not like cattle-bison crossbreeds. He culled them from the herd during roundups and sold them for meat. His foresight proved a great asset. Many herds today trace their lineage to Scotty Philip's ranch and his pureblooded stock. When Philip died in 1911, he owned the largest bison herd in North America, numbering approximately one thousand head.
Philip was a rancher and a businessman, but he was driven by more than just the desire to turn a profit. He had great respect for bison and admired their strength and loyalty. "If a man wants to get a fine lesson in the advantage of 'standing together,' he need only watch a buffalo herd in stormy weather," Philip was quoted as saying. His high regard for the bison is echoed by modern-day ranchers. Most bison ranchers I have met are motivated by more than just the bottom line. They see bison ranching as a way to preserve a national inheritance, at the same time providing an endowment for the future of the species.