Twenty years hence, when not even a bone or a buffalo-chip remains above ground throughout the West to mark the presence of the buffalo, it may be difficult for people to believe that these animals ever existed in such numbers as to constitute not only a serious annoyance, but very often a dangerous menace to wagon travel across the plains, and also to stop railway trains, and even throw them off the track.  The like has probably never occurred before in any country, and most assuredly never will again, if the present rate of large game destruction all over the world can be taken as a foreshadowing of the future.  In this connection the following additional testimony from Colonel Dodge ("Plains of the Great West,” p. 121) is of interest: 

“The Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé Railroad was then [in 1871-’72] in process of construction, and nowhere could the peculiarity of the buffalo of which I am speaking be better studied than from its trains.  If a herd was on the north side of the track, it would stand stupidly gazing, and without a symptom of alarm, although the locomotive passed within a hundred yards.  If on the south side of the track, even though at a distance of 1 or 2 miles from it, the passage of a train set the whole herd in the wildest commotion.  At full speed, and utterly regardless of the consequences, it would make for the track on its line of retreat.  If the train happened not to be in its path, it crossed the track and stopped satisfied.  If the train was in its way, each individual buffalo went at it with the desperation of despair, plunging against or between locomotive and cars, just as its blind madness chanced to direct it.  Numbers were killed, but numbers still pressed on, to stop and stare as soon as the obstacle had passed.  After having trains thrown off the track twice in one week, conductors learned to have a very decided respect for the idiosyncrasies of the buffalo, and when there was a possibility of striking a herd ‘on the rampage’ for the north side of the track, the train was slowed up and sometimes stopped entirely.”

The accompanying illustration, reproduced from the “Plains of the Great West,” by the kind permission of the author, is, in one sense, ocular proof that collisions between railway trains and vast herds of buffaloes were so numerous that they formed a proper subject for illustration.  In regard to the stoppage of trains and derailment of locomotives by buffaloes, Colonel Dodge makes the following allusion in the private letter already referred to:  “There are at least a hundred reliable railroad men now employed on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé Railroad who were witnesses of, and sometimes sufferers from, the wild rushes of buffalo as described on page 121 of my book.  I was at the time stationed at Fort Dodge, and I was personally cognizant of several of these ‘accidents.’”

[Illustration:  SLAUGHTER OF BUFFALO ON THE KANSAS PACIFIC RAILROAD.  Reproduced from “The Plains of the Great West,” by permission of the author, Col.  R. I. Dodge.]