Quotes About Bison

I would love to have a battle of wits with you, Bison, but I doubt it would be a fair fight.' 'Shut your face.' 'Exactly my point.

My great-grandmother grew up in a sod house in Nebraska. When she was a tiny girl - in other words, only four human generations ago - there were still enough wild bison on the Plains that she was afraid lightning storms would spook them and they would trample her home.

Hiver bouclé comme un bison, Hiver crispé comme la mousse de crin blanc, Hiver aux puits d'arsenic rouge, aux poches d'huile et de bitume, Hiver au goût de skunk et de carabe fumée de bois de hickory, Hiver aux prismes et aux critaux dans les carrefours de diamant noir, Hiver sans thyrses ni flambeaux, Hiver sans roses ni piscines, Hiver ! Hiver! tes pommes de cèdre de vieux fer! tes fruits de pierre! tes insectes de cuivre !

I would love to have a battle of wits with you, Bison, but I doubt it would be a fair fight.' 'Shut your face.' 'Exactly my point.

I first suspected something was amiss when I exited the coffee shop on Greenup Street and was knocked down by a herd of bison.

To use the power of the bison, I had to perform that part of my vision for the people to see.

I know now what this meant, that the bison were the gift of a good spirit and were our strength, but we should lose them, and from the same good spirit we must find another strength.

But those wild eyes met his, as the bloodshot eyes of the prairie wolves meet the eye of their leader, ere he rushes on at their head in the trail of the bison; but, alas! only to fall into the hidden snare of the Indian.

In an early version of the story, I thought Aang could shepherd a herd of twenty bison.

The post-Columbian abundance of bison," in his view, was largely due to "Eurasian diseases that decreased [Indian] hunting." The massive, thundering herds were pathological, something that the land had not seen before and was unlikely to see again.

Friend, I am grieved when I find a venator or hunter of your experience and observation, following the current of vulgar error. The animal you describe, is in truth a species of the bos ferus or bos sylvestris, as he has been happily called by the poets, but, though of close affinity it is altogether distinct, from the common Bubulus. Bison is the better word, and I would suggest the necessity of adopting it in the future, when you shall have occasion to allude to the species.

Ah, me! Roll them back, you ruthless harvester of the years. Give back to me Nat-ah'-ki and my youth. Return to us our lodge and the wide, brown, buffalo plains.

I know now what this meant, that the bison were the gift of a good spirit and were our strength, but we should lose them, and from the same good spirit we must find another strength.

If there be no place for wild bison in all of Montana, then surely we have crossed a line between the Last Best Place and the the Once Best Place.

To use the power of the bison, I had to perform that part of my vision for the people to see.

In the year 1377, a poet in what is now Germany speaks of entering the Great Wilderness, an unbroken forest that took three days to cross and was home to bison, wild boar, wild horses, wolves, bears, lynxes, and wolverines: "Pleasantry and laughing had become hushed," he writes.

There is precisely zero scientific evidence demonstrating wolves, unlike ourselves, have ever driven any species to extinction. Of course, no antiwolf advocate points to the unrestricted slaughter and habitat reduction, not by wolves but by humans, that speeded the demise of those great herds of bison, deer, and elk reported by Lewis and Clark.

Of course, no antiwolf advocate points to the unrestricted slaughter and habitat reduction, not by wolves but by humans, that speeded the demise of those great herds of bison, deer, and elk reported by Lewis and Clark.