The Buffaloes of Goodnight Ranch
Showing the Only Herd in the World Owned by a Woman
By E.J. Davison
Taken from The Ladies’ Home Journal February, 1901
Charles Goodnight
The herds of buffaloes and elks owned by Mrs. Mary A. Goodnight, of Goodnight, Texas, besides being one of the most interesting sights to later-day tourists in the Southwest, is the only herd in the world owned wholly by a woman. The animals have the run of "the park," a tract containing two square miles of land, which offers abundant pasture, except in the winter season when the herds assemble at a common feeding-place where fodder is supplied them.
Mary Ann Goodnight
The buffalo herd,
now numbering about
one hundred head -
several animals have
been sold to owners
of private parks and
to zoological gardens
- had its origin in
June, 1879, when Colonel
Charles Goodnight, "The
Father of the Panhandle
of Texas," "roped" two
buffalo calves and
gave them to his wife.
She was much interested
in the little waif
of the plain, was greatly
delighted at the lacrity
with which they learned
to drink milk, and
surprised at their
appetites, which seemed
to be insatiable, one
of her pets taking
as much as three gallons
daily. Under such care
they grew rapidly,
but the one with the
voracious thirst for
milk acquired the knack
of breaking down fences
with great dexterity
and committing other
and similar depredations,
and he was turned into
beef - nearly a ton
of it. But there were
two or three calves
left, and visitors
to Goodnight Ranch
shared their owner’s
admiration for the
pretty, odd-looking
baby bisons, and as
it was becoming apparent
that the buffalo would
soon become extinct
unless steps were taken
to prevent the herd
and protect them from
the hunter.
Two years later a
neighboring ranchman
captured two full-grown
buffaloes and presented
them to Mrs. Goodnight.
Three calve were
also added to her
little group - the
present of a brother.
From that time on
the herd has grown
and multiplied. Of
the one hundred head
more than half are
pure bred, the remainder
being "cataloes," as
a cross between a
buffalo and a Galloway
cow is called. The
cataloes have the
same hump as the
buffaloes, and shaggy
hair, but their color
varies from jet black
to light brown, and
they are most readily
distinguished from
the pure bred by
their horns, which
are longer. The cataloes
are also much more
tractable, and can
soon be taught to
eat out of one’s
hand. One brindle
catalo, which was
named "Sister" was
found with a herd
of cows, and is very
gentle. But the full-blood
buffaloes - of the
Goodnight herd, at
least - never repose
full confidence in
man. Big and powerful
as they are they
are timid and run
away at the slightest
alarm, although they
have taken food from
their owner’s
hand from the opposite
side of a fence;
nor will they attack
unless wounded or
driven into close
quarters. Even with
this reputation for
timidity Mrs. Goodnight
does not regard the
pure-bred buffaloes
as trustworthy, and
does not consider
it safe to go among
them on foot.
"We have about fifteen elks," Mrs. Goodnight explains in talking of the herds, of which she naturally is quite proud, "and have had them about ten years. We started with one, and in a year bought three more. We have deer and antelopes, and did have wolves, taming the latter with the idea that we might employ them to decoy wild brethren within gunshot; but the domesticated ones became such a nuisance that we killed them. Like the elks, the deer do not thrive well, and the antelopes generally die before they are a year old. Captivity is fatal to them. I have never known one to be domesticated."
In the great park each animal herds with his kind. Even the pure-blood buffalo looks with a royal contempt upon his plebeian half-brother, the catalo, and the two keep wide apart in separate and distinct groups.
To see the herd of buffaloes assembling at their accustomed drinking-place in the morning is to have an experience that is met with in very few places in this country. From every section they come, the old bulls walking along like so many elephants, stopping now and again to paw up the earth and wallow, or to bellow defiance at some rival in the herd. Such a sight arouses much interest on the part of the "tenderfoot," but to the old settler it only feebly suggests the past, when buffaloes literally swarmed over the plains - by tens and tens of thousands.
Top of Page