Bowhunting Bison

Neilson  Thursday, March 10, 2011

Adventure Review

Cruising through the Safari Club Convention I kept coming back to a bison mount hanging from the back of a non-descript booth along a side wall. Dan McFarland of Hawkeye Buffalo Ranch sat, momentarily alone in his booth with a photo album of previous hunts and a brochure about his ranch. I passed the booth twice before striking up a conversation with Dan. I found him to be not only a provider of trophy bull bison hunts but also extemely knowledgable about bison and their role in the lives of Plains Indian tribes. I booked a trophy bison bowhunt with my longbow right there on the spot. I chose an open date that not only allowed me to travel to Iowa during my Christmas break but also coincide with the first day of winter.

When I finally arrived at Dan’s place he showed me around the ranch and the hunting area. Over dinner, Dan not only talked about how I would stalk the bison, but also the history of bison, Native Americans, and his local history. Dan houses his hunters in a house that was well over 100 years old. Before retiring for the night, Dan performed a ritual of blessing the hunters with a some burning prairie grass. Sleep came reluctantly that night because of anticipation.

Morning dawned bright, clear and cold. The temperature hovered around zero. The snow on the ground was 6 inches deep and as dry as sand. Walking on the snow was like walking on styrofoam packing peanuts. It didn’t take long to see that the herd of bison would hear us long before I could stalk into longbow range. Dan along with my hunting buddy Brent Bohbrink came up with a plan to have me stalk alone with them following me behind at least 50 yards or so. A few hours later, the bison began to move towards the open giant cottonwood trees that dottted the hunting area. Most of the property consisted of open prarie grass, wide-open cottonwood trees and large hunks of multiflora rose bushes.

There were two especially bison close to the 2,ooo pound range that caught my eye. As I guessed the probable path of the bison, I tried to squeeze myself into the bark of the tree behind me as the bulls came into range. When the first bison came by I aimed carefully as the bull walked past and promptly shot behind it. This was tougher than I thought. I made a mental note of the deceptive size and speed of a walking bison. A few minutes later the second big bison came by and I focused intently on the vitals. I froze as the bull stared intently at the lump attached to the tree near it. When the bull turned slowly to walk away, I released my arrow. The striken bull ran out into the prairie a hundred yards and slowed. Finally the bull laid down and expired. It must be noted that bison are big and they don’t give up easily. When the bison had expired, Dan, Brent and I moved in to perform a tobacco ritual thanking the bison for his life, to mother earth and to the spirit of the animal.

The hunt was much more than just the killing of a bison. It was an opportunity to participate in rituals, share some comradre with fellow hunters and a chance to reach back in history.