By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Columnist

When I'm rummaging around for information, I always find out something else that's more interesting than what I wanted to look up in the first place. That's how I discovered the names of the first paniolos, the cowboys of Hawai'i.

There I was, cranking through microfilm, looking for an item I can't even remember anymore, when up popped a story in the Sunday Advertiser of Sept. 4, 1938, under the byline of Eben P. Low, senator, sailor and legendary cowboy.

His nickname was "Rawhide Ben." He lost his left arm when he got tangled up roping a wild bull on the slopes of Mauna Kea. But with his right arm, he could lasso and hog-tie a wild steer faster than most cowboys could with two arms.

I don't know what prompted Low to write this article. Maybe it was just to tell some history before he died. "The first two head of cattle, a bull and a cow, were landed at Kealakekua by Captain Vancouver and presented to King Kamehameha I," he wrote.

"From the progenies of these two head and later shipments from Southern California came the famous herd of thousands of the wildest cattle know to man on the great mountain of Mauna Kea.

"These cattle became a menace and cowboys were called upon to destroy them. But the country was so large, and so full of dense forest and underbrush, that it became quite a problem. ...

"When Kossuth, Ramon and Lauzada, three of the greatest ropers and riders, arrived from Mexico at the invitation of Kamehameha III in 1832, they were sent to Waimea and began teaching Hawaiians the art of roping."

The wild cattle were slaughtered for their hides that were shipped to the Mainland, the meat left for wild dogs. Shooting the cattle with rifles was not allowed. Bullet holes ruined the hides and shots scattered the wild beasts into inaccessible places.

Paniolos lived in tents on the mountain while hunting wild cattle. Hides were brought in on pack animals every second and third Saturday. The ranch paid a bonus of $1 per hide. Most of it went for drinks and good times before the men returned to the mountain.

According to Low, the best paniolo was William Purdy, father of Ikua Purdy, who went to Cheyenne, Wyo., in 1908 and took the world championship roping contest. Low said William Purdy was only 165 pounds and 5 feet 6. But he could come down the mountain in three week's time with 100 to 150 wild bulls for slaughter.

Low writes about his epic capture of an 1,800-pound bull with a red streak down his back and a formidable spread of horns. The brute had escaped from two top cowboys. At about 7,000 feet, Low was riding his dark chestnut, John L. Sullivan, when he saw the bull leading a herd into a gulch.

Low threw his lasso and it dropped around the bull's neck. After a wild ride, Low subdued the bull, sawed off one horn as a souvenir and turned the bull loose to give somebody else a chance at him. Ikua Purdy caught him again four years later.