Murder & Mob Law in the Big Horn Basin Part 4: Range wars escalate into increasingly brutal violence

Nearly three months after the Basin jail was stormed, Big Horn County was still struggling to reconcile outrage with restraint. What began as an act many residents initially justified as frontier justice slowly revealed itself as something far more troubling. When known murderers James Gorman and J.P. Walters were killed by vigilantes, many good people could look away. But when Deputy Sheriff Price was killed while defending those same men, outrage was ignited.

Even among those who sympathized with the mob’s motives, there was broad agreement on one point: Price’s killing could not go unanswered.

But for weeks afterward, no one talked. Dozens of men were involved, many of them well-known and respected. Silence offered protection. In a county built on long memories and shared labor, testifying against neighbors carried consequences few were willing to face.

That silence finally began to fracture when William H. Smith, racked with guilt, stepped forward before the grand jury. Smith admitted his own involvement and provided details of the raid, breaking the wall of secrecy that had protected those involved. His testimony opened the door for others who had been present with the mob, though not inside the jail, to come forward. Some cooperated in hopes of avoiding prosecution. Others spoke cautiously, selectively, or only after considerable delay.

By late October 1903, a Big Horn County grand jury returned eight indictments connected to the lawless mob killings of James Gorman and J. P. Walters and the murder of Deputy Price. Despite this apparent momentum, the case soon narrowed. On April 22, 1904, County Prosecutor John P. Arnott dismissed the murder charges against five of the eight accused men.

The Newcastle News Journal reported that county officials had made a deliberate decision. “In order to make the cost of the prosecution as light as possible,” the paper wrote, “the authorities propose to concentrate their entire efforts to convict alleged leaders of the mob.” Those identified to bear the brunt of the prosecution were Colin Mackenzie, a prominent rancher from Shell; George H. Saban of Horse Creek; and James G. Tatlock from Ten Sleep.

Price’s family pushed hard for justice. His uncle, described in the press as a man of means, publicly vowed to spend $10,000 if necessary to identify and prosecute his nephew’s killer. But the will to prosecute was not matched by a willingness to testify. 

When the trial opened, public interest was intense. Yet, somewhat surprisingly, another case on the docket that spring week drew even greater national attention: Buffalo Bill Cody was also in the Basin Courthouse, filing for divorce.

The divorce proceedings quickly became complicated. His wife, Louisa Cody, ultimately had the case moved to Sheridan County, arguing that she could not receive a fair hearing in Big Horn County. Buffalo Bill was deeply admired in Basin, celebrated not only for his fame but also for the irrigation projects that were beginning to reshape the region and bring a measure of order and prosperity to the area.

The trial against the vigilante murderers, however, had become increasingly predictable. Prosecutors quietly reshuffled the docket, pushing the cases against Mackenzie, Tatlock and Saban further into the future.

Most potential witnesses were personal friends, reluctant to testify or unwilling to implicate others. On April 27, 1904, after only a handful of witnesses were heard, the prosecution abruptly rested and asked the court to dismiss the case. Judge Stotts instructed the jury to return a verdict of not guilty.

Newspapers differed slightly on how the case collapsed. The Cheyenne Daily Leader blamed the failure on the state’s inability to secure testimony. The Sheridan Post reported that the defense successfully discredited the prosecution’s chief witness. Either way, the result was the same. The three men walked free.

The Butte Miner reported the acquittal the following day with blunt clarity. “The prosecution dropped the case owing to its inability to get witnesses to testify and the court instructed the jury to find for the defendant,” the paper said.

Rumors of witness tampering circulated openly. On April 28, 1904, the Laramie Republican reported that “it is alleged that many thousands of dollars were expended by members of the mob in getting witnesses out of the country and closing the mouths of others.” 

The acquittal effectively ended the prosecution. Concluding that any further trials would be futile, the county attorney dismissed all remaining charges against every defendant. No one was ever convicted for the deaths of Deputy Price, James Gorman or J.P. Walters. In the end, money and influence prevailed over justice.

The Basin jail raid left Big Horn County with more than unmarked graves. It exposed a painful truth about the fragility of law in a frontier society, where personal loyalties and economic power could outweigh legal obligation. The county’s young institutions, including its sheriff, jail and courts, proved too weak to withstand community pressure when justice required neighbors to testify against neighbors.

The message was unmistakable. On the open range, murderers were rarely brought to justice and when they were, convictions were unlikely. In the years that followed, violence bred more violence.

Violence escalates

Between 1904 and 1909, the long-simmering conflict between sheepmen and cattle ranchers in Wyoming escalated into open warfare. Historians estimate that at least 15 murders during this period were directly tied to the Big Horn County range wars. Numerous other raids, assaults and acts of large-scale livestock destruction went unpunished. The following incidents illustrate the intensity of the conflict.

In late August 1905, the sheep camp of L. A. Gantz was raided at night by masked attackers. The raiders burned the camp, shot a team of horses and either shot or maimed an estimated 4,000 sheep.

The violence continued into the summer of 1906, when approximately 400 sheep owned by John Linn were driven into a ravine. The attackers then threw dynamite among the animals, killing many outright.

One of the most brutal attacks occurred in March 1907, when 12 masked men assaulted a sheep camp owned by Hugh Dickie in the Owl Creek area southeast of Meeteetse. The raiders threatened the herders with gunfire and forced approximately 8,000 sheep over a cliff into a ravine. Of those animals, roughly 4,000 were either shot, clubbed to death or had their legs deliberately broken. The attackers then burned the camp wagons and piles of sheep carcasses.

In April 1907, another sheep camp was raided on Trapper Creek near Greybull. Masked men held up the herders, tied them to a wagon and used dynamite to destroy bands of sheep. The attackers also burned the camp wagon, along with supplies and harnesses. Three explosions were set off, killing several groups of sheep. Although one herder was knocked unconscious by the blast, no fatalities were reported.

As the attacks continued, the violence became increasingly open and savage, reaching a horrifying peak in the early morning hours of April 2, 1909. At least seven armed cattlemen descended on a sheep camp along Spring Creek, just south of Ten Sleep. The camp was operated by sheep herders employed by sheepman William Laycock.

The men were attacked as they slept. Five herders were in their wagons when the assault began. Three were trapped inside a sheep wagon that the attackers deliberately set on fire. As the men screamed and tried to escape the burning wagon, they were shot. When the bodies were later recovered, one was found outside the wagon, badly burned but having managed to break free. The other two were burned alive.

The violence did not end with the killings. Sheep dogs were slaughtered, dozens of sheep were killed and wagons, supplies and livestock were destroyed, resulting in thousands of dollars in losses. The sheer brutality of the raid stunned the region and drew national attention. More than an isolated act of violence, the Spring Creek Raid marked the bloody climax of Wyoming’s long-running war between cattlemen and sheep herders.

Across the nation, newspapers carried the story, bringing unwelcome attention to Big Horn County and the state of Wyoming. The violence could no longer be dismissed as isolated or inevitable. Public pressure mounted, and with it came a growing recognition that change was finally at hand.

Some historical notes:

1. Despite its enduring reputation, the 1892 Johnson County War resulted in only three confirmed deaths, while the later sheep–cattle conflicts centered in Big Horn County unfolded over years of repeated violence, culminating in far deadlier and more destructive raids.

2. On February 15, 1909, just two months before the Spring Creek Raid, the Wyoming Legislature voted to split off Park County from Big Horn County. It did not become official, however, until January 9, 1911.

3. Buffalo Bill’s 1904 attempt to divorce his wife, Louisa, failed. The judge ruled that “incompatibility was not grounds for divorce.”

4. There is a historic marker at the site of the 1909 Spring Creek Raid, located about seven miles south of Ten Sleep along Wyoming Highway 434.