Prairie Dog Chronicles

Step back in time to the American frontier of 1872, where massive buffalo herds still thundered across the plains in their ancient migration patterns. Through the eyes of George W. Brown, we witness these magnificent beasts as they moved with the seasons—northward in spring to the Dakotas and Canada, then southward again as winter approached, seeking shelter in the river valleys of the Great Plains.

Brown's tale centers on a hunting expedition along the Smoky Hill River with his colorful companion, Dave "Prairie Dog" Morrow. As they track buffalo herds through territories known to be hunting grounds of the Cheyenne, Brown uncovers the entrepreneurial spirit that earned Morrow his unusual nickname. From catching and selling prairie dogs to eastern tourists for five dollars a pair, to developing increasingly sophisticated trapping methods, Prairie Dog's business ventures reveal the speculative mindset that drove many frontier entrepreneurs until competition inevitably flooded the market.

The narrative takes an unexpected turn when Prairie Dog mysteriously vanishes one morning, leaving Brown to encounter other characters like Thomas Nixon—a former Nevada miner who claimed to have killed over 2,000 buffalo in just over a month. These personal stories unfold against the backdrop of a rapidly changing West, where railroads were pushing into new territories and the massive buffalo herds that had dominated the landscape for centuries were facing their final days. This episode offers not just a glimpse into the practical aspects of buffalo hunting, but also the camaraderie, competition, and challenges that defined life on America's western frontier during this pivotal era.

Chapters

• 0:00 Buffalo Migration Patterns
• 1:56 George Brown's Buffalo Hunting Expedition
• 2:54 The Prairie Dog Business
• 5:20 Nighttime Reflections at Camp
• 9:21 Nixon's Frontier Enterprise
• 11:15 Prairie Dog's Mysterious Disappearance

Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:04

Music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music, music.

Speaker 1: 0:28

When the spring migration started with the greening of the grass, the first buffalo would appear singly and in groups of two or three. An advance noticed to hunters that the herd was moving. The size of the groups increased in their numbers until finally, as far as the eye could see, the whole country was covered, with them moving slowly towards the south, grazing as they went. A hunter could stand on the ridge or other high spot and the herd at first appeared to be a solid mass, but looking more closely he saw the herd was divided into small groups, 25 to 30 buffaloes spread loosely over an acre. They drifted along, thousands of them as far as the eye could see, and Hunter never ceased to be thrilled at the sight of them. Each spring, as grass-growing weather moved northward with the sun, the buffalo herds followed to spend the summer in the Dakotas, montana and Canada. With the approach of snow to the northern plains they turned south again to winter in the valleys of the Republican, the Smoky Hill, the Solomon, the Arkansas, cimarron, Canadian and the Brazos rivers. They were more valuable to the hide hunters from September to March than in any other season, for they had come into their heavy winter coats, the buffalo grazed on succulent buffalo grass, not much to look at, either green or cured, but very nutritious.

Speaker 1: 1:56

We begin our story in early June of 1872. Two hunters are tracking a large herd of buffalo along the Smoky Hill River and its tributaries between Fort Hayes and Fort Wallace. The region was well known by experienced hunters as the special hunting grounds for the Cheyenne Indians. My name is George W Brown and I'm here to tell you more of my story. What I am about to tell you is when I quit buffalo hunting to become a merchant for a whiskey-selling enterprise. This is when I had a speculative turn of mind, a time when most of the buffalo herds north of the Arkansas River were but very few.

Speaker 1: 2:34

In early June of 1872, dave Prairie Dog Morrow and I were hunting buffalo in the vicinity of Fort Wallace. We hired two men to go with us. The first man, our freighter, was Charlie Stewart, and the other, our skinner, was a young man by the name of Billy Tyler. This happened the year of the big hunt. Now. Prairie Dog Morrow was quite the character, an excellent shot, and when he leveled his piece on a dearer buffalo, it was sure to come down. I can say from the first time I met up with him he's a man who worked hard at charming others. He's the kind of man who makes business a delight and individuals who know him enjoy his wits. But on the other hand, he's a lot like me. He rarely lasted long at any one job.

Speaker 1: 3:23

As we traveled together following a herd of buffalo south of the Arkansas River, I asked Prairie Dog how he got his name. Well, my friend, he replied with a great deal of laughter. Some say it's because I became so fond of a pair of prairie dogs. Well, it's true, he said he pulled his horse alongside of mine. No-transcript. One day I caught me two prairie dogs around Hays City and tamed those little fellers, he said with a smile. I used to keep them in my pockets and go down to the rail station and greet passengers from the east. I would show them my little dogs and tell them how lovable they were to have as pets. To my surprise, one of the passengers offered me five dollars for the pair. So that's how I got into the prairie dog business.

Speaker 1: 4:13

As he snickered the last words under his breath, we continued traveling south and during this time of silence I began to think about prairie dog story and a question came to my mind. Well, I asked what do you mean by going into the prairie dog business? It was at the time we came to the Arkansas River. There were so many buffalo they seemed to knock all the water out of the river when they'd plunge in headlong to swim across. It's like that. He said. Like what I asked, like those buffalo down there on the river that are having a hard time crossing over to the other side, he said, as he pointed in the direction of the buffalo crossing the stream, I would haul barrels of water from Hayes City to a nearby prairie dog town. He said with a smile. I'd find a crater and pour water down the hole. This would flush these critters out the other end. I'd just get at the end of the exit hole and grab them. When they came out the other side, like those buffalo, he said, furry Dog kicked his horse with both spurs to the hindquarters, riding down on the herd like a wild Indian, screaming out but we're going to kill these critters. As he opened up the first shot, onaked them out to dry the hides.

Speaker 1: 5:49

That evening, with the campfire glowing, crackling into the night air. I watched the smoke rise into the star-spangled sky above us. I began to think more about the prairie dog business and looked over to our wagon where Charlie Stewart and Billy Tyler slept. Prairie dog sat next to me, slumped over the fire, warming his hands, looking out over the shadows of glowing coals in the direction of Prairie Dog. I asked I'm curious about how you got out of the Prairie Dog business. Prairie Dog did not look back at me with this question but started over the fire into the dark of night, silent in his thoughts. Too many competitors, he said. You know that water business of flooding their holes and picking up these little prairie dog critters as they floated by was slow. Plus, it was hard work, he said. It took much water and a great deal of time. Dave picked up a nearby branch and started stirring the fire, causing a glow to form around his face. I decided to invent a better prairie dog trap his face.

Speaker 1: 6:49

I decided to invent a better prairie dog trap. It included a barrel of sand open at one end. I would place the barrel over the prairie dog's hole open and down. I could see the smile on his face as he continued to poke at the fire. As the sand flowed into the hole, the prairie dogs would surface through the sand into the barrel to find themselves trapped. Well, I can say, within a few weeks my prairie dog business was booming.

Speaker 1: 7:15

Now, dave, this does not answer my question. How did you get out of the prairie dog business, I asked. Well, as with any good thing, competition was just around the corner. I had hardly established a monopoly in the field when other men entered the business. Soon the prairie dog enterprise at Hayes City was glutted. Dave threw his stick into the fire as if he was disappointed with his story. I wanted to prompt Dave's disgusted mood, so I asked him so you quit the business because the competition was outdoing your catches? No, not at all, he replied.

Speaker 1: 7:52

The going price for a pair of prairie dogs dropped from five dollars a pair to a dollar, then fifty cents, and I gave up when the market hit a quarter. I then laughed at the story Prairie dog Dave. I said what's so funny about my name and my story? He snapped you know, a man can't live on a quarter for a pair. At that price trapping prairie dogs is hardly worth it. Besides, I'm here with you now? Aren't I Killing buffalo for a living? I laughed once more at Prairie Dog's story.

Speaker 1: 8:23

I stared out into the darkness seeing multiple campfires across the prairie like lanterns leading the way into heaven's horizon. With Dave's story still on my mind, I crawled into my bed sack, snickered once more and hearing one last howl of a distant cry of a coyote, I slumbered away into the night. The next morning, the birds over my head swam against a flood of air like tiny ships. My eyes glazed into the sunlight, awakening me to the first sign of day. The sun, in my eyes, appeared like a mosaic of a hundred thousand jewels. I rubbed my eyes clear of the moisture, stood up with a hard stiffness running throughout my body and stretched out into the sight of a desolate rocky hills rolling out like a solid wave along the horizon. I looked over in the direction of the campsite where Prairie Dog had been sleeping. His bedroll was gone and so was his horse. From a distance I heard shots ring out from the valley just across the south side of the river. Mounting my horse, I told Billy Tyler and Charlie Stewart to keep the hide stretched before riding out onto the old Santa Fe freight road that ran up from the bottom of the river.

Speaker 1: 9:40

I got up to where the stakes were laid out for a new railroad tracks, just north of the Arkansas River and about five miles west of Fort Dodge. There I found a sturdy, dark-haired man stacking hay. He stated his name was Thomas Nixon. He told me he had been in Nevada and was a former miner, turned freighter. I was curious about this man, nixon. How'd you come to be in these turned freighter? I was curious about this man, nixon. How'd you come to be in these parts? I asked. I'd been freighting along the Santa Fe Trail for some time when I heard the railroad was headed this way, nixon said, as he threw a large bale of hay into his wagon. I've been out on this location for a few months due odds and ends for the Army. Nixon stopped his work and pointed in the direction of a sawed house. I built that sawed house with my own hands, he said. Nixon used his sleeve to clean the sweat from his brow. When I'm not hauling hay and shucking corn for the government, I operate a blacksmith shop on the side, he said.

Speaker 1: 10:35

Nixon said he was a buffalo hunter himself. Nixon said he was a buffalo hunter himself and bragged that he'd killed over 2,173 buffalo in 35 days. He told me he happened to be hunting buffalo on the south side of the river, at the head of Rattlesnake Creek. A man with him, a skinner by the name of Masterson, claimed Nixon killed 204 of the hairy beast in one stand. Nixon prepared his buffalo hides for sale by placing them in the location of a new town site. He said he happened to be waiting for the arrival of the railroad with hopes of selling his hides to a buyer and having them freighted by railroad car.

Speaker 1: 11:11

I went back to camp that evening and found no sign of Prairie Dog. I asked Billy Tyler if he had given any notice of his whereabouts. Billy Tyler said he had just disappeared that morning. He never said a word of where he was headed and he never returned. We camped out one more night on the edge of a high point on the prairie. The next morning Billy, charlie and I loaded up our wagon with buffalo hides for the market. Billy rode off to find Prairie Dog and Charlie and I decided to unload our hides under the care of Nixon and move my team east to Fort Dodge. Thanks for watching.