Cosley made quite an impression on the denizens of the north county, and was described by Albertan rancher Bud Spencer as “tall, dark, and handsome as agile as the mountain lion and with eyes twinkling with the freedom of the mountain stream.” A local paper detailed the appearance of the man known as “The Wild Horse Buckaroo” as including “a long black forelock, and a goatee that would make a mountain goat ‘go way back and sit down.’” He made it to Kalispell in time for the big party celebrating Montana’s entry into the Union as the 41st state in late1889. Joe left home at the ripe age of 17, reportedly headed to Arizona before wandering the west and making his way north to punch cows in Montana. One paper listed him as graduate of the Carlisle Indian School, but as with much of Joe’s life, there is little that can be corroborated. No record of his education is available other than suggestions that he received additional instruction at various convents, but his poetic writing and oratory skills reveal at least some form of continued learning which led Cosley to be described as “college-bred”. Cosley attended school with his 10-12 siblings at the Shingwauk Residential School from the ages of 8-11,and was then called Sahgahnuhquudo or “Cloud Appearing”. Joe himself was often referred to as Oneida, and was once listed somewhat oddly as “an Irish Breed about three quarters Irish.”Īlthough Joe claimed his father was descended from Spanish nobility (odd but not unheard of for a Frenchman), his occupation is commonly listed as fisherman, farmer, and trapper. The genetic combination was referred to at the time as “Métis”, or more offensively as half-breed. Joseph Clarence Causley (he later changed the spelling) was born on the Seven Nations Reserve in Ontario to a French-Canadian father and an Indian mother described alternately as Algonquin, Ojibwa, Cree, and Spanish.

Gordon Edwards.Īsk a more pointed query to that same savvy group, one invoking the search for the most colorful character in the history of Glacier Park, and the results are immediately reduced to a single, fascinating figure: Joe Cosley, the Panther-on-Snow-Shoes. The hiking and climbing crowd might split in twain over the original exploits of Norman Clyde versus the instructional bent of J. Surely there would be a vote or two for the renowned naturalist, Morton J. Another faction could reasonably chime in for Louis Hill, the great promoter of the Park in hopes of profits for his railroad and hotels.

Perhaps the “discovery and protection” orientated among the group would declare for the sainted George Bird Grinnel, while others might point out that the Blackfeet and other native tribes have existed here for over 12,000 years. If you were to approach a gathering of true, die-hard Glacier-philes and demand of the party a single pick for the most important person in the Park’s history, you’d likely be met with a squabble or at the very least a lack of consensus.

Snappy trap