Every winter the small town of Gardiner, Montana, welcomes Native American tribal members from around the Inland Northwest. Hospitality businesses are happy to see them arrive during the off-season, but they’re not the only ones – ranchers are thrilled.

The tribal members are there to hunt American bison (or buffalo) that wander out of Yellowstone national park to find forage during winter. Bison are naturally migrating animals, and as the frozen snows of winter make finding sustenance difficult and competitive, herds start to head to lower elevations to seek sufficient feed.

The north entrance of Yellowstone is at the edge of Gardiner, and the wild roaming bison that leave the park often walk right into town or on to private property. That’s when the interests of the bison and private landowners begin to conflict.

On top of safety concerns and property damage that have some residents wanting them removed, nearly half of Yellowstone’s bison carry a non-native disease called brucellosis, originally transmitted to them by European cattle more than a century ago. While it does not affect bison, it can cause pregnant cattle to lose their calves.

It’s theoretically possible for the disease to be transmitted from wild roaming bison to cattle, although there have been no documented cases of it. The likelihood of transmission is very low: a cow would have to eat grass on which a buffalo calf was just born on to be contaminated (transmission occurs with the ingestion of birthing fluids).

Nonetheless, fears of brucellosis caused the state of Montana to sue Yellowstone on behalf of the livestock industry in 1995, eventually forcing the park to agree to cap its bison population at around 3,000 animals – about half the population Yellowstone can sustain before significant habitat damage and overgrazing would begin to occur. As a result of the mandated population target, the Park Service now has to kill several hundred bison annually to even approach that population goal.

In 2015, the bison population in Yellowstone National Park reached 4,900 animals, approaching the park ecosystem’s sustainable carrying capacity. This year, federal agencies are calling for the removal of up to 900 animals. Most of the animals are rounded up into holding pens and shipped to slaughterhouses, with the meat distributed to Native American tribes.

The decision outraged conservationists around the country, with many claiming that the federal government is simply acquiescing to the private interests of the livestock industry, rather than managing wildlife for wildlife’s sake.

Amid the feuds between conservation activists and natural resource management agencies, however, one story is getting lost. That is the story of the American bison’s most prolific natural predator: the Native American hunter.



As late as the mid-1800s, millions of bison roamed the Great Plains of the American west, and were a staple food for countless Native tribes. Prior to colonization they were even found east of the Mississippi River, and the Eastern Woodland tribes used to travel to places like the Ohio River Valley to hunt them. Every one of them viewed the animal as a sacred “brother” essential to their survival.

This changed with American settlers’ westward expansion and their Manifest Destiny. Knowing the tribes relied on buffalo to feed themselves, the US government initiated widespread slaughter in order to wipe out the food supply of the tribes fighting against the invasion of their homelands. Between 1820 and 1880, tens of millions of bison were slaughtered. Millions were left to rot dead on the plains, with no regard to utilizing them for food.

The American bison went nearly extinct, much like the tribes who had resisted settlement of their territories.

‘Every living thing is our relation’, says hunting party leader Nick Eastwood, a Confederated Umatilla tribal member.

By 1902, Yellowstone’s bison herd had been reduced to 25 animals. But as the Theodore Roosevelt era of romantic western nostalgia and conservation began, there came a public push to not only preserve places like Yellowstone National Park, but to restore wild bison. Eventually, parks worked with the help and advisement of Native Americans to restore park herds.

Hunting had been banned within Yellowstone by the congressional act that created the park in 1872, and during the late 1800s the US army was even used to evict and ban Native Americans from the park to keep them from hunting there.

But after the government initiated the brucellosis culls, tribes who signed the treaty of 1855 saw a loophole that could once again allow them to hunt wild bison. Their treaty promises the perpetual right to hunt and fish in all the “usual and accustomed places” they had historically done so, and specifically names buffalo.

In 2006, treaty of 1855 signers successfully petitioned the government to allow them to hunt from within the cull numbers. This would be the first time they had hunted buffalo in more than 130 years.

Nez Perce, Umatilla/Cayuse and Salish tribal hunters wait for a herd group to travel into the hunt zone.

As a result, some conservation activists have accused tribal hunters of being pawns of the government and the livestock industry. Hunters such as Nez Perce tribal member James Holt, who helped initiate the hunts, take exception to such claims: “I find that idea offensive and revolting. I go there fulfilling the legacy of my ancestors; the dialogue dominating bison mismanagement does not quantify my relationship or spiritual beliefs with Brother Buffalo.” Holt decries the limited conditions, locations, and times they are allowed to hunt in, and believes wild bison need to be allowed to migrate freely and recover in all of their native habitat.

On the day of the hunt, we drove to Beatty Gulch, part of the narrow swath of land outside the park where buffalo hunting is authorized. On the left of the road is Forest Service and private land. On the right is Forest Service land.

When the bison leave the park, hunters must wait until they travel about 300 meters above the road on the right side before they can begin the hunt. As the herd groups come out of the park they will often linger by the road for hours, or even bed down on private and Forest Service land. The hunters will sometimes wait fruitlessly throughout the day for the herd to begin to make their way to higher ground and into the designated hunt zone. Tribal game officers prefer not to haze the animals and let them travel naturally into the hunting area.

Historically, a hunt may have looked somewhat similar to the photograph above. Buffalo are practically a fearless animal and in traditional bow and arrow hunting, the challenge might not have been as much in getting close to the animals as it was getting them into a position that allowed the hunters to take several animals down before the herd spooked and ran.

Nick Eastwood: “Any sustenance we harvest whether it be a root, a berry,or even a buffalo, we give thanks to it for it having given its life to sustain us and treat it with the utmost respect.”

Wolves hunt similarly to this, and wait while others work to move a herd of bison or elk into a “kill zone” for them to attack. An area with a limited escape path that would herd the buffalo a certain way is the optimal position before the hunt begins.

Those techniques would have been particularly necessary for tribal hunters before the arrival of the horse. As far back as prehistoric times, another tactic known as the “buffalo jump” was also used to take down multiple animals for multiple tribal members at one time. The end goal would be to funnel the herd at full stampede to the edge of a cliff or precipice which many of them would fall off of and die, allowing the hunters to find and butcher them afterwards.

Of the seven-member hunting party in Gardiner, five were designated as “shooters”. In two days of hunting, each party member was able to take one buffalo home to feed themselves and their family, and four additional buffalo were taken to share around their community with people in need of food.

As the butchering of the first buffalo begins, Nick, the hunting party leader, reminds the hunters to be praying to themselves or out loud as they work. Tony, the elder of the group and Nick’s uncle, begins singing a song to honor the buffalo and thank it for providing sustenance to his family.

A tribal game officer watches closely as the hunters go about their work.

These men do not take part in this practice as a matter of sport. There is no celebration in the loss of life for this animal they deem so sacred. Rather, the celebration is in the sustaining of life for their families, tribe and culture. Hunting has always been simply a matter of subsistence for Native hunters. Certainly there is honor in accomplishing a difficult hunt; but, it is not done for recreational pastime it is done for survival.

Umatilla tribal officials set strict guidelines for the hunts. Every single part of the animal must be taken except for the gut piles. Traditionally all parts of these animals would have been used for food, hides and tools, and ceremonial religious practice. Each hunting party member has to apply to join a hunt, and each hunt is assigned a party leader (similar to the way their ancestors traveled to this country to hunt buffalo).

The Confederated Umatilla tribes prefer to hunt wild roaming bison, rather than have them penned in domestic herds like cattle. They feel strongly the animals should be allowed to roam wild and free until the moment they fall to feed their families. Tribal officers check each kill to ensure the proper guidelines are followed.



Confederated Umatilla tribal member Travis Eastwood carries and drags meat back to the truck.

Taking part in the hunt was Lucas, 15. Like most teenage boys, he spends much of his time thinking about girls, sports, music and friends. This was his first buffalo hunt, and the older hunters in the group took on the job of teaching him the practices that were taught to them and the value of digging in and getting your hands dirty in the effort to sustain the lives of family and tribe.

A lot of good-natured ribbing took place about the clean state of Lucas’s clothes, and his initial hesitancy at some of the difficult and gory tasks involved in skinning and gutting a giant buffalo.

On the first day of the hunt the party worked nonstop in below-freezing winds from 6am until darkness fell, not even breaking to eat until the work was done. As the day wore on, Lucas embraced his role as contributor to the group and his hands and clothes became increasingly stained.



Each hunting party member took enough meat home to provide for their family for a year, as well as share and distribute some around the tribal community. Tribal members try to utilize subsistence hunting and gathering as much as possible, not just to sustain traditional cultural practices, but for their health and survival.

Lucas carrying the head. The usable meat will be eaten, and the skull will be decorated and used for religious ceremonial practice.

Many tribal members also feel that utilizing wild food in a sustainable way reduces the impact of industrial agriculture; not just in livestock production, but in the destruction of natural habitats for large-scale vegetable and fruit farming operations. They do not ascribe more value to one life than to another, and it’s for this reason that Native Americans sing songs and prayers of thanks when they harvest roots and berries the same as they do when they hunt buffalo.

Hunting party member Steve Filkins, who says his doctor recommends he eat only lean wild meat, shared a story about when he first learned to hunt:

“My uncle told me that I was to give the meat away. We took the meat by the quarter to those elders that were in need. I still recall stopping at one elderly lady’s house and we gave her a back strap and a hind quarter. She was very thankful and offered me a half gallon jar of huckleberries. I politely refused her offer. I got back to my uncle’s truck and he gave me one heck of a scolding, telling me that I had just insulted that lady by not taking her offer! I have never forgotten that.”

After returning home, Steve took two quarters of buffalo to that very uncle who taught him the important values and traditions of tribal subsistence hunting.



At the end of each hunt day, Nick would direct the group to line up and face east, the direction of the rising sun which gives sustenance to all life on Earth. He would then lead the group in songs and prayers thanking the Creator and the Spirit of the buffalo for a successful hunt and for the gifts that sustain their lives and culture.

Each member of the group was offered a chance to say their own words and prayers of gratitude and sing their own songs (I did not photograph these ceremonial activities because I was participating in them. Those moments are also not meant to be photographed out of reverence and respect).



On the third day of the hunt, it was decided to take a drive through Yellowstone, which now lets 1855 treaty tribes enter without a fee.

As we passed through the Lamar Valley, a wolf was spotted loping through a small herd of buffalo as they barely paid the predator notice. We quickly stopped and piled out of the truck to watch. Members of the hunting party began to howl at the wolf as it made its way about its wolf business. It stopped immediately and answered, as did an entire pack somewhere off in the forest.

It was surreal standing there with a bunch of Native buffalo hunters howling at a pack of wolves who were howling back at us. It was a moment of timeless interaction between the buffalo and its two natural predators, all of whom are native species to that land.

I felt grief for the lives I had seen lost in the preceding days, but also recognized I had witnessed a time-honored story of the comings and goings of life on this ancient landscape. It was a circle that was bent, but not entirely broken – and that moment between the wolves, tribal hunters, and those buffalo, helped complete my understanding of that.

Celebrations back home in Oregon honor Brother Buffalo.

Back in Oregon, members of the Confederated Umatilla and Nez Perce tribes participated in the annual Tamkaliks Celebration, which commemorates a cultural return by Chief Joseph’s people and their relations to their homelands in north-east Oregon. They still honor the buffalo in their regalia and ceremonial items, such as horns in dancers’ headdresses. The buffalo spirit has kept their culture alive and strong throughout history. Even during the years when their ancient relationship was severed, they continued to honor him with their ceremonies.

Now that their people are traveling over the Continental Divide to once again bring home buffalo sustenance, their cultural rebirth grows stronger. This is how tribes continue to claim their place, not in some sad forgotten history, but as a relevant part of the land that make the United States of America what it is today.



