On the Future of Bison
Guest post by Clemson Montana Summer Program student Libby James
It never ceases to amaze me how our group can drive over a
border from one state to another and the land will transform before my very
eyes. Driving this past week from Montana to Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, then to
the Black Hills and Badlands of South Dakota, I witnessed a change in
topography and in wildlife inhabitants that I have never experienced before.
The land gradually shifted from the Rocky Mountains and grasslands of Montana
to rolling fields and hills of a brilliant green shade that are scattered with
ponderosa pines in Wyoming and South Dakota.
One of the greatest changes in spending time in both the
Black Hills and the Badlands of South Dakota was the chance to see bison for
the first time in my life. Movies I have seen depicting the American West will
often display how they were in the past – entire herds consisting of hundreds,
if not thousands, of bison dominating the plains. I learned of their
extirpation from the West as a student in elementary school. I can recall the
impact it had on me – the fact that humans could almost completely wipe bison out
from an area that once held nearly 30 million. Seeing these magnificent
creatures up close, it hit me how few are left compared to how many there were and
how different this land is without so many bison. I count myself truly
fortunate to have been able to witness these animals, both those existing as
wildlife in parks and those raised on a ranch, up close. I also found myself
thinking of what the future holds for bison here on the Great Plains.
It is one thing to witness a bison on the screen or in a
picture and it is something else entirely to witness one in person. There is an
initial, instant amazement you feel upon seeing a herd from a distance. They
may cover a hillside or a field, but they never venture too far from each
other. They stay in a fairly tightly knit herd for protection, as opposed to
cattle, which might spread out a little more. Upon getting closer to the herd,
you begin to pick out each individual bison – the calves from the adults, the
bulls from the cows, the yearlings and two-year-olds from the older adults.
What struck me was how each bison looked different from the next. Collectively,
from a distance, they seemed to work and move in one unit and all appear very
similar. However, driving through a herd you notice the many differences in
size, coat, and even in color. I had an instant respect for all of these
animals, as if they knew what their ancestors had endured and they knew that
they were the survivors remaining from that turmoil.
There are even differences between the wild bison we
witnessed in both Custer State Park and Wind Cave National Park and the bison
raised in a ranch-type setting. The wild bison can be observed from a safe
distance of always at least 25 feet away. They are accustomed to humans, but
not enough so that they always tolerate our presence. Keeping a safe distance
and observing from afar equals something akin to a mutual respect between
humans and bison. The bison on Dan O’Brien’s ranch, however, were fairly well
accustomed to humans. Riding through a herd of bison in one of his pastures,
some were quite curious about the humans disturbing their grazing on a Friday
morning.
It was after talking with Greg Schroeder, Chief Natural
Resource Manager at Wind Cave National Park, and Dan O’Brien of Wild Idea
Buffalo, that I realized the future of bison here on the Great Plains most
likely lies in conservation via private ranchers. Dan O’Brien is a strong
believer in this idea. The only issue is selling the idea to other ranchers who
either do not feel strongly enough on the preservation of bison or see them as
an issue rather than a possible source of income. Bison in national parks are
slowly becoming fenced in, one park at a time, so it seems that their future on
the Great Plains overall will be fenced in as well.
