Wild West Podcast
Welcome to the Wild West podcast, where fact and legend merge. We present the true accounts of individuals who settled in towns built out of hunger for money, regulated by fast guns, who walked on both sides of the law, patrolling, investing in, and regulating the brothels, saloons, and gambling houses. These are stories of the men who made the history of the Old West come alive - bringing with them the birth of legends, brought to order by a six-gun and laid to rest with their boots on. Join us as we take you back in history to the legends of the Wild West.
Wild West Podcast
Part Three: An Adventurous Pursuit of Buffalo Hunters and the Intriguing Mystery of Valuable Hides
What if you had the chance to step into the boots of adventurous buffalo hunters from the Wild West era? Join us as we step into the dusty livery stable and haggle over a hunting rig, questioning whether we can afford the price on our modest budget. Our story unfurls as we form a ragtag team with AC, Myer, and Nixon, each bringing their unique personalities to the rig.
In this journey, we reveal the details of our daring mission to fulfill a contract for 500 buffalo hides. Alongside the thrill of the hunt, we explore the intricacies of the human spirit and the challenges of the frontier life. From the suspenseful negotiation over the hunting rig to the intimate letter shared with a brother in New York City, we paint a vivid picture of the past. Will our doubts and suspicions about the mysterious allure of buffalo hides deter us from the mission? Tune in to find out.
It was not long before we made our way for the livery stable. There we found a wagon in the back lot, the team and a good pair of mules in the stable. When we looked over the well-appointed rig and made a rough estimate of its probable value, we began to fear that the owners would ask more than we could pay for it. I inquired to Jim with some puzzlement what do you think of the outfit, jim? It's one of the best hunting rigs I ever saw. Jim then hesitated, but I'm afraid it's too rich for our blood. Those mules and harnesses alone would be cheap at $250. The wagon's easily worth another hundred and there's no telling what the camp outfit cost. Why do you suppose these men want to sell at any given price? I asked. I asked Tom if he was willing to let us unload the wagon and look at its contents. We found it an extraordinarily complete outfit with many duplicate parts for the wagon a sibling tent, a sheet iron cook stove, a mess chest and a complete mess kit for cooking. There was a large number of provisions left over the wagon and the animals were good and the Broncos had saddles and bridles. While we unpacked the wagon, tom told us something about the trip which from the point of view of the hunters, had been very successful. Tom said the hunters came to Hayes because they ran ads in the Eastern newspapers about a new hide business back in England. This English tannery wanted to experiment with buffalo hides for a source of leather, so we took him out on the range to see the massive herds migrate in the South. They became excited about what they saw and wanted to get back east to share the good news.
Speaker 1:By the time Tom finished his story, the examination of the outfit was completed. Tom inquired what do you think of the outfit and what will you give me for the whole caboodle? It's a good rig, and no mistake. I countered with a seemingly hopeless sigh, but Jim and I are afraid we haven't money enough to buy it. The outfit was alright for our purposes but we'll have to buy a good rifle, powder and lead. I'm not sure if we'll have enough money left over after buying a team and camp outfit. To buy this outfit would clean us out. Well said Tom, make a bed for what you can afford to give, not what it's worth. They don't expect to get what it's worth. It sounds like a mighty small price, tom, and I'm ashamed to make you the offer. I said hesitatingly but $200 is as much we can afford to give and still buy our rifles and ammunition, which your men consider such a bit as that Boy is. That does seem like giving the outfit away and until I see my men I won't say whether they'll take it or not. But I'll talk for you a little and help you out all I can, said Tom. They told me to sell the rig for whatever I could get and I'll tell them that $200 is the best offer I've had. It's the only one. If they say it's a go, the outfit's yours.
Speaker 1:Jim AC, myer, nixon and I walked over to the saloon to make our offer to the Easterners. Three of us waited outside while Nixon played out our offer to purchase the wagon, mules and camp supplies. While waiting for Nixon's return I looked over to Myer's. I could tell by his actions he was a prince of a good fellow and a rare character in every respect. I asked Myer's how he came to know Tom Nixon. Myer leaned up against the wood pole support structure, taken in the shade of the overhang, looked down at his boot, kicked a rock between the boards and looked at me, squinting one eye as if he had serious intentions in regarding my question. I have respect for the man. Myer responded Not one to be reckoned with, but a man you can put your back to in a bar fight. He's from the south. He has somewhat of a shady past, like most of us out here in this godforsaken country. I know him to tell tales about being his prospector once. He's a family man now and owns a ranch about eight miles west of Fort Dodge. Myer then looked directly into my eyes and said I feel I have to do the right thing here, no matter the cost. It's about my integrity and honor. I need to tell you the second. Myer's was about to close his last words to us. Nixon busted out of the swinging hinges at the saloon doors you got the deal, boys. You got the deal, howl Nixon in a jubilant voice. Now let's go pay the man and put our marks on the papers. I stood up, smiled back at Jim, reached in my pocket for all the money I had and entered the saloon with a questionable smile.
Speaker 1:The four of us walked over to a table where the three well-dressed men sat. One of them, well groomed, stroking a cigar, had a dancehall girl in his lap. The man next to him, a white-bearded, older, distinguished gentleman, watched us approach with a questionable eye. His face was one of utmost assurance After a game this man played. He wasn't accustomed to losing. He smiled at me like a long-lost friend.
Speaker 1:He stood up as we approached, shook our hands and introduced himself as representing part of Mr Charles Rath. He told us Mr Rath needed 500 hides and he would offer me the contract to purchase the rig only if we fulfilled the hide order. He asked us to sit down at the table and offered us a drink. We had drawn out some papers in front of him and before our drinks were served he handed me a quilled pen. Will you agree, he questioned, will you agree to provide the 500 hides that Mr Rath needs at the given price of $2.25 per hide? The man paused, handed over the pen and pointed to a line on the parchment you get the wagon, mules and supplies you need for the hunt for $200, plus the money you split between the four of you for 500 hides. Jim, who sat next to me, placed his spencer rifle across his chest. Damn boy, get to signing. Give the man your money and let's get the hell out of here.
Speaker 1:We left the saloon in wonderment. I thought a little suspicious of the deal we had just made and wondered why they would allow us to pay just $200 for the rig. We went straight to the livery, picked up our new belongings, loaded the wagon, hitched up our mule team, purchased our rifles at the general store and drove to Fort Hayes. It was late evening when we prepared ourselves for the next morning hunt. We stayed the night in the livery stables. I took the time that evening to ride my brother, john, in New York City. In my letter to John I told him about my purchase of the rig, how we signed a contract to obtain 500 hides and planned a trip out to the plains. I concluded my letter with my suspicions about the hides and would he be interested in a shipment to New York City? I signed and sealed my letter to be mailed the next morning from the camp post. All of service.