Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1880-06-11
ON THE BUFFALO RANGE,

between the half-breedS who form a
large portion of the population of the
settlements of the Northwest, along the
Red River of the North, and their neigh
bors, the Sioux, exists a bitter enmity.
Peace is seldom declared between them,
and when parties of Sioux and half
breeds meet, bloody battles are the result.
Although the half-breeds are more civ
ilized than the Indians, and live in viii
lagos, generally near the forts or trad
ing posts, they depend largely upon buff
falo-meat for their winter food, and upon
bufalo-robes, for which the traders give
them guns, powder, shot, blankets, tea,
coffee, sugar, and other necessari9s and
luxuries of their life. To obtain this
meat and these robes they organize grand
buffalo hunts every summer and fall,
each of which lasts for several months,
and in which hundreds of men engage.
The hunters travel from their homes to
the distant hunting grounds on horse
back; but they take with them long
trains of very curious-looking ox-carts,
in which the women and children, who
go with their husbands and fathers on
these long trips, ride, and in which the
buffalo-meat and hides are carried home.
The oxcarts, or "Pembina buggies, "
as they are often called, are very strong
and clumsy, and are made entirely of
wood, generally by their owners. The
wooden wheels, turning on the ungreased
wooden axles, make the most horrible
creaking and groaning; and when, as is
often the case, several hundred or thou
sand of these carts are in one train, the
noise they make can be heard for miles.
Each cart is drawn by single OK,
attached to the rude shafts by simple
and homemade harness of rawhide,
with the aid of which the patient beast
draws load of thousand pounds for
hundreds of miles, at the rate of twenty
or thirty miles day.
As they approach the buffalo range,
where they expect to find their game, the
hunters know that at any moment they
may run across hunting parties of the
Sioux, and for them they keep sharp
lookout night and day.
Some years ago brave hunter by the
name of Jean Bedell, whose home was
in Pembina, Joined one of these great
hunting parties, taking with him his
wife and their little child, a baby of but
a few months old. The party to which
Jean belonged was SO large that they
had but little fear of Indians, and did
not guard against being surprised by
them as carefully as usual.
One morning as the brigade broke
camp, and the long line of carts moved
slowly away toward DeviPe Lake, which
could be seen cleaning in the distance,
and near which the hunters teIU sure
they would find buffalo, Jean Bedell
found that portion of his harness had
given out, and he must stay behind and
mend it. He had just finished his task,
and started on after the carts, the groan-
ing and screeehing of which could still
be heard in the distance, when other and
more terrible sounds, borne clearly to his
ear, caused him to come to a sudden
halt.
The sounds that so startled him wer
quick shots, almost as steady as volleys
of musketry, and the terrible yell with
which the Sioux charges upon his enemy.
Far down the valley the hunter could see
sharp flashes of fire pierce the cloud of
dust that hung over the train of ox-carts,
and the dark mass of Sioux warriors
charging down the hillside, lashing
their ponies, firing and yelling as they
went.
Alone, and cut off from his compan-
ions, with his wife and baby to protect,
Jean Bedell had nothing to do but lie
down, with his trusty rifle in hand, pow
der and bullets by his side, and wait,
determined to sell his life as dearly as
possible if worst came to worst.
For hours thehunter watched the fight,
while his wife crouched in the bottom
of the cart, with her baby in her arms.
He could see that the carts had ben
formed in semicircle, and from behind
them his comrades withstood charge
after charge of the Indians, who would
dash up to the barrier of heavy carts,
pour in volley, and sweep away beyond
rifle range, until their guns were re-
loaded.
At last, late in the afternoon, the bat
tie came to an end. The Indians, find
ing it impossible to drive the hunters
from behind their barrier, suddenly
withdrew, and taking their dead with
them, disappeared over the hill down
which they had dashed in the morning.
They might make another attack, but
for the present all was safe, and Jean
Bedell might rejoin his friends. When
he reached them, he found though they
were rejoiced to have driven off the hated
Sioux, their JOY was mingled with much
sorrow, for there were many dead to be
buried, and many wounded to be cared
for. Among the dead were several oi
the little children, to whom stray bullets
had found their way; and when Jean
Bedell and his wife saw the poor little
bodies, they were thankful that, on ac.
count of broken harness, their OWL